The evening was peaceful, cool, and beautiful. One of those friendly evenings in Africa when the breeze gently flirts with the skin. I was still in Secondary School at the time, I came back from School for Christmas full of hopes and merrily gay for Christmas. That night I was summoned before the elders in my family. It was two weeks to Christmas. My Mum was the only face that was visible to me at the time I entered the big passage that serves as the family parlour. The Sun was just retiring to its nest so the passage had a little illumination.
I observed from the ray of light that the thatch roof would
allow, that my mum was robbing her face with a two-piece wrapper. My mind raced
back to when my Dad died five years again.
What is happening again, has anybody died again? no, not my little brother.
