I have met a dozen ladies, beautiful ladies, size yangu as they say! The fast I see them, the faster they dissappear from my radar. Maybe I’m jinxed, I can’t tell or maybe I’m so ugly coz I can’t remember the last time I checked myself in the mirror…
Since Akello left, I have never healed, it’s over a year now. The white lady, Pam too came but since she flew back I’m at loss, I talk to her on phone but still I feel lonely, I miss her but I can’t afford an air ticket…
I checked on the map of the world to see the location of Canada and realised I can not ride a bicycle over the water, only Jesus could and even if I could, I might be sixty when I finally get there and she would be married with a couple of kids to take care of, what would then become of me? Maybe get deported back to Africa to find my people old and some dead… My used to be home now nothing but a farmland.
I’m getting older, fast approaching thirties and the years are now showing. Everyone asking me to get married but who do I marry?
Then on this very day, I was sitted in my shop chatting animatedly with some shosho. She was giving me a flashback of her youthful days, life was good!
Eighty years of age, but she looked stronger for her years. She was now a widow. Her husband died twenty years ago and left her with only one child, a son, who also died ten years ago and left behind a son, her grandson. His sons wife had ran away leaving her with the boy who was ten years by then. Though her face now wrinkled, you could tell she was a beauty during her reign.
“I was the queen of my village,”she asserted. “Men fought to have me and I loved it!” she continued, her face beaming.
She went quiet for a while, she was deep in thought, the brightness was replaced by deep sorrow…
She was married at age sixteen as I gather from her, after she came back from the deep thought.
At this point a van painted yellow and with ‘Orange’ written on the side, passes along the murram road in front of my shop, music blaring from the loudspeakers mounted on its roof. It comes to a stop just a few metres past the school gate (remember the school where the mysteriou chopper landed?). The door opens and a few ladies and boys alight, they all had black T-shirts with ‘Hello’ written on them. They were doing a sales promotion for the ‘Orange mobile network’ as I later learnt.
One of the ladies walks right up to my shop, she has blue jeans, and a Beyonce’s body, you know what I’m talking about right? She looks at me, smiling. The usual sales tactics, make you feel like they have a big crush on you, just to make you buy their product.
She arrives, shakes our hands, introduces herself and starts explaining about the offers they were giving with each simcard bought. I wasn’t interested in buying but she kept pushing me. No matter the excuses I gave for not wanting to buy the more she insisted. I knew I wouldn’t resist anymore so I decided to purchase one on condition that she gives me her number. Suprisingly she did!
What followed still baffles me to date; WE FELL IN LOVE!!
But just like the other ladies, she vanished, vanished like the Malaysian Plane… Leaving my heart broken into pieces.
‘Why are all these good girls taken every time… Every time I say ‘Hello’ then they say ‘Goodbye’…’ I sing to this lines of ‘Good Girls by Joe’, all the time.
Posted by Mr. Jagweng