The Sweeper!

 

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The grotesque sweeper ploughed down the street, I stopped on my tracks to be sure it was real before I fled to my room. I heard my mom arguing on the phone, she’s uptight today, I told my dad she worked too hard but nobody cared to listen.

But my problems were far from over, the looming sound seemed to burst through my ear drums as the sweeper made its way down the front of our house, when my parents made no attempt to calm my frayed nerves, I ran down the stairs and hid in the cloak room, though it was dark, I felt safe, then I heard my mom calling my name and I began to cry.

She hurried downstairs and brought me out of my darkness, her pretty face a beehive of worry. She loved me, I know but sometimes, I get the feeling, they don’t believe me when I tell everyone who cared to listen that I hate the sound of ‘The Sweeper.’

”It’s all right baby Lou,” she said and straddled me into her arms but there was no stopping my wailing, I hated when she calls me ‘baby Lou’ and I hated the sweeper. My dad came to meet us downstairs and I went straight to him. He cuddled me and called me ‘tiger,’ I kind of prefered tiger to ‘baby Lou.’ I love the sound of trains trudging down the tracks, I love the booming sound of aeroplanes but not the sweeper!

Ten minutes later, I felt better and slowly made my way to the living room, ‘Mickymouse’ was singing on the TV, life is good, my only fear in life is the sweeper! My name is Emmanuel David and I am twenty-five months old!

 

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I just had to post this, my son hates the sound of the street sweeper and it beats me! I reckon trains and aeroplanes are scarier than the dingy engine sound of the street sweeper!

This is a classic example of what we fear, as adults, we are more afraid of the mundane things in everyday life, the snide comments of haters, or what people think… maybe, the house we live in or our jobs, our relationships with others might cause a great amount of scrutiny but I say, forget such people exist! There would always be haters, live your life as if you’re in paradise.

Just like the lady in the above picture, laugh your problems away! Life is good if we allow it to be so, it’s our reactions to problems that matter most, not the problems!!

Thanks friends for reading my post!

Love, always!! 🙂

 

 

 

The Listener’s Dilemma.

 

George Popa!

( Photo credit: George Popa)

”I stayed true to my first love,” Hannah’s soft voice droned on and I was held spellbound by the simple life she’d lived. A life of dedication in the face of outright betrayal.

”I fell in love the first time I saw Michael,” and her face soften at the memory with traces of a smile lurking at the corner of her mouth, ”my dad worked for the KGB then, he’s now retired, he was  absolutely furious when he knew I was dating ”an alien.”

My eyebrows shot up at the ‘alien bit’ and she laughed when she saw the expression on my face.

”A nonRussian is an alien to my dad,” she explained and continued, ”when it was obvious our relationship would face outright persecutions, we fled Russian and came to London, got married and life was good. It was rosy for the first five years and then the late nights began, I tried to question his erratic behaviors but the back of his hands was my reply.

I was on the edge of my seat and Hannah’s voice was becoming strained but I said nothing still, just listened.

”The trips to Ghana was a surprise at first, and then when it continued I became worried. Money was not our problem, I would have lived in Ghana if he wanted me to but he said no. Ten years later, still no kids and we were still married. You can imagine my frustration and failure that I couldn’t give my husband what he wanted. I left everything for him, my family, my friends… everything!

There was silence, it was as if she was reliving the horror of it all. I said nothing still.

”One of his friends came to our house one summer evening, as usual, he’d travelled, and he told me Michael was celebrating his tenth year wedding anniversary, he brought the family pictures as proof and my world fell flat. Michael had five children for his other wife, he’d built his family a beautiful house in Accra! When he came back, he had the gut to call me a barren woman.”

”Where is he now?” I finally found my voice.

”He’s gone to the office and you know what?”

”What?”

”I’m pregnant, at long last… and the beatings has stopped.”

”Have you forgiven him?”

”No, but I still love him which was why I wondered at the true meaning of love. I can’t leave him…I’m forty-five years old and I’m pregnant with my first child.”

”What about his other family? That’s bigamy! Are you okay with that too?”

”We don’t discuss it.”

”Do you think about it?”

She nodded and that was it, we heard the sound of a car pulling up at the drive way, that was my cue. I stood up and Hannah gave me a bear hug then asked, ”If you were in my shoes, what would you have done?”

I couldn’t answer her question. I left her house dumbfounded and sad at the same time, no wonder the poor woman thought love was non-existent!

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That was the concluding part of ‘The Listeners,’ I hope you like it!

Thanks for reading my post, love always:)

”I Got You!”

Rainbow field

I’d totally prepared another post when I decided to take a little nap and my 2-year-old son sauntered after me. I groaned inwardly knowing my quick ‘shut-eye’ was fading into the shadows. Well he’s my son and I love him so we played on the bed, rumpled the sheets and like I suspected, he soon got bored and went back to the living room to watch ‘Agent Oso,’ on the T.V and play with his ten-year old brother.

I had settled into a blissful sleep, you know that kind where you feel as if you’re been rocked and your bed was moving in consonance to your breathing? Well, I was in that threshold when intuitively, my eyes flipped open, my son had climbed my bed and was sitting precariously near the edge, it seemed as if he was navigating a rugged mountain by the look on his cute face, and everything happened in a split second…

If my son had fallen from that bed, I’m sure the Queen would have heard his wailing in Buckingham palace, so I was not about to let that happen; his head had almost reach the floor when I caught hold of his ankle.

”I got you!” I said breathlessly and put him down, he smiled and disappeared from the room, calling out his brother’s name.

This incident brought this thought to my head, in life, we’re surrounded by loved ones, friends and family members who are always around when we are happy, sad or… just been alive. I think we should appreciate them more, you know my saying, life is too short, let people around you know you care… And just as we marvelled at the beauty of a rainbow, let us marvel at their love for us because they always got our backs!

Thanks for reading my post!!

Men, Brawls And… Nothingness.

Sunday Prayers

Sunday Prayers (Photo credit: Steven Leith)

This unfortunate incident happened late last year and anytime I think about it, tears usually welled up in my eyes.

It was a Sunday morning, we were sleeping soundly when I heard a loud banging at the door, still in my sleepy state I leapt up from the bed but before dashing downstairs my husband caught the tip of my dressing gown.

”Where on earth do you think you’re going,” he asked with a frown before standing up, then he released my dressing gown.

”I heard a loud banging and I decided to check who was at the door,” I explained with a yawn and that was when we checked the wall clock. It was a few minutes after six in the morning. I crawled back into bed, grateful for a strong man in the house but some  days were just horrible.

Seconds later, I heard a man talking rather loudly downstairs but my husband was trying to pacify the caller. It was obvious my beautiful sleep had been abruptly terminated for the day so I decided to check who the unreasonable caller was.

I slipped into my slippers and padded downstairs and then I saw him. He was fuming and gesticulating with his hands, the only words I heard was this,

”I have sent her packing out of my house,”

I hissed and went back to my room shaking with what I surmised must have happened and my heart went out to my friend and I could just picture her tear-stained face. Her beautiful, clear skin marred with mud and blood, her finger nails cracked, her heart-broken into a million fragments. And I offered a prayer for her safety.

The caller was a violent egocentric maniac whose wife was a very good friend of mine. She was very secretive, evasive about the bruises, when I asked she never could explain why she kept falling on the stairs every week, was she blind? And the babies? The miscarriages, the constant admissions, scans, the endless sorrow but she is free at last, safe from the beast in human form, safe from the fear, safe from the heat and the fury.

He is empty, worthless than a speck, and he is in a prison of his own madness.

What can I say? My friend is free from the brawls, and from that emptiness of a marriage. I believe in everlasting love, a love without fear, without sorrow…