EPISODES: 2. CHAPTER ONE ♠ Kobi dressed for dinner with a trepidation that worried her. It was Naeto and she enjoyed being with him. She liked him. There was even an unconscious attraction but… but there were no deep feelings. … Continue reading
JETH always believed that when he was ready for love and for marriage, he would feel a certain kind of quickening in his spirit. A foreknowledge elucidated by a possible growing feeling of an emptiness that hadn’t been there before and that required filling. It would be nothing impulsive, nothing unanticipated and definitely, nothing sudden. It would instead be a slow, steady and meditatively thought out feeling and he would find himself prepared, in every way, to take whatever steps were demanded of him.
He had thought like this most of his adult life. Well, not quite most of it. But long enough that he couldn’t recall never thinking that way.
But he was not thinking love… or marriage, when he roused from his bed that morning. They still were not conceived in his thoughts when as he knelt for his morning devotion, his heart quickened with these words: ‘trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.’
Jeth pondered why, when those words from the book of Proverbs were not part of his morning inspirational word, would skip into his heart and persist there. He had his bath, his morning cup of ginger tea and still, the words lingered and repeated themselves again and again in his heart.
Unable to stop himself from doing so, he mulled over them as he drove to church for the nine-thirty a.m. service. But once inside the church, and service opened with songs of praise and worship, he cast off the ponderings, buried the words, and immersed himself in worship.
My sincere apologies for having not been here the last two days. Life has just been hectic. Please bear with me. And I also apologise about not updating Who killed Dana Bala? A whole lot is going on now and I do apologise but I have to put a break on it for a couple more weeks. Thank you for your understanding.
JUST AS SHE’D PROMISED she was right over after church service. The kids were in the living room, watching television and looking a whole lot better.
“Miss Elizabeth, good afternoon. We’ve been waiting for you.” Rukky jumped down from his seat and ran over to give her a hug.
“You have?” She smiled stooping down to wrap her arms around him and then slipped a hand to his forehead to feel his temperature. He was still a little warmish but not as yesterday. “And why is that?”
“Good afternoon, Miss Elizabeth.” Stella greeted stepping over to give her a hug too. She was beginning to feel much more comfortable with her, especially after yesterday. “Because we are hoping you’ll make us lunch again.” She answered her question.
“Yes. Daddy is preparing stew but we don’t want to eat rice.” Rukky stated. “We want to eat something special and delicious prepared by you.”
“One day in my kitchen and you knocked me off my position as greatest-cook-ever.” Caleb said strolling in through the kitchen door. “What have you to say in your defence, Miss Harcourt?”
IT HAD BEEN A CLEAN-HOUSE MARATHON since Rukky woke up that morning, bright, early, hyperactive and with a solemn-faced announcement that they were going to clean up every inch of their house.
And true to his word, no part of the house had been left out – bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchen –even the veranda and garage had not been spared. Right now they were in the living room, where they’d been dusting, adjusting, re-dusting and resetting all furniture.
Stella was not only tired but thoroughly exasperated.
“I am tired and I need a break.” She glared at her brother who was dusting for the third time the silver, steel-frame TV stand and all its occupants.
“We can’t take a break until we have finished.” Rukky replied using his finger to check for dust as he’d seen grandma do a couple of times. There were no dust flecks on his finger tips but still he smoothed the off-white napkin over the surface of the TV screen.
“We have finished. We are just repeating ourselves.” Stella retorted wearily, letting the wet napkin in her hand drop to the rug.
THE LITTLE ROOM WAS like the toy factory, flamboyant with vivid, rich colours. Except that it was smaller, like just a tiny spot in it. The little boy had on this midnight-blue T-shirt with bright yellow flowers on it over a pair of magnolia-white shorts. He was on his knees, his head bent over something he had in his hand which he appeared to be trying hard to fix. The object in his hand was obviously broken and he was trying to put it back together. He made mournful, tearful grunts as his small hands twisted over and over the object.
She walked towards him, her eyes fixated on his squatted tiny, helpless frame. As she got closer the grunting sounds became louder and more mournful and… heartbreaking. They quickened her footsteps to his side.
She bent over and reached out her hand slowly to touch his shoulder. He twisted his neck around and looked at her with a tear-stained, doleful face.
“It is broken and won’t come together again. Help me fix it please.”
SHE QUICKLY WROTE UP another example on the whiteboard and turned to face the class.
“And what would be the answer to this sum?” She asked moving towards the rows of chairs, her eyes skimming from face to face. “If n = 4, b = 3 and y = 6. What then is n + b?”
She regarded several raised hands with speculative eyes as she glided in between the rows. They were the usual hands that are always up whenever a question was asked. Today she wanted someone else. She stopped beside Femi’s chair.
“Femi, do you want to try?” She asked gently, smiling encouragingly at the boy who was looking up at her with slightly nervous eyes.
Femi dipped his head in a nod and then pushed back his chair, rising to his feet. He studied the quantitative reasoning sum on the whiteboard with sombre concentration.
Elizabeth stepped back a little to give him room to be comfortable and waited patiently. Most of the kids have put down their hands, except for Nina and Nora, but then they were an over-enthusiastic pair.
“I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE you are bullying me into going with you.” Elizabeth grumbled behind Tonye, making faces at his back as they marched into the living room.
He’d won the Scrabble game of course and was now using boss-card to make her go with him to Calel Graphics and Print Limited, the mischief-making devil.
“I’m not bullying you, Eliza. I just gave you an order… like a boss.”
Tonye laughed at her narrowed glare.
“Besides you should think of it as your charitable contribution to this year’s Youth Congress.”
“I’m making a monetary charitable contribution already.” She snapped laying down her handbag on the dining table to centre her skirt.
“And now you get to make a much more personal contribution – the sacrifice of your time and your person. Think how proud God will be?” He gave her a cheerful wink and strolled over to sink into the leather sofa.