A Quick Stroll Through The Past...

I don't know what you did or will do for Mother's Day but after my kin gave me a day off, I found myself retracing some thirty plus years back as I had a quick visit to where I was born.

A simple walk through familiar but differentiated space is quite an effective way to unlock a buried past.

The first memory was the smell of fried eggs masking my mother's screams as my stepfather physically abused on an early morning after she asked where he had spent the night. I was eight. I hated him for a long time for it. I still hate the smell of fried eggs to day.

I eat mine boiled. Or in crepes. Mandazis. Or pancakes.

I pushed that one behind as I passed by where we lived when I was 13. The dark memories associated with that place are too raw for these pens to poke. I shivered.

Then the memories of using that road thirty years ago while going to school flooded my mind. The fun ones like skipping rope while going back home on good days. Eating mangoes. Running in the mud and rain. Singing gospel (singing anything else was a crime punishable by a few slaps from any adult passing by).

The bad ones... The tension that came with being late for school. And I often was. We were nomads because my mother had to work so public transport was usually involved. Ours especially back then was a huge joke.

The dark ones that I am yet to find the words to describe.

The funny ones like old orthodox church and how they once had the slowest priest ever. His love for children was beyond anything I had ever seen though.

There is a small valley in the photo above... Those trees stand as a fence to the primary school I went to and the village's chief camp. There used to be a seasonal stream that would fill up then overflow and branch into smaller streams that would bring the cleanest water I have ever seen to the field I was standing on as I was taking this.

And because this field is a proposed stadium and has been one for a long time, then it would be off limits. No one would pass through it. It would turn green for months at a go but not anymore.

Human traffic is deadly. And for the past two decades, the formerly spacious settlements have seen an increase in population like ten times the number. This is thanks to expensive housing and birth rates.

Imagine having a small piece of land and squeezing yourself in it with your grown sons and their families because there's no where to go.

Last photo. I just wanted to say that when I was growing up this field was carpeted by some beautiful green. Nothing like these brown bruises.

My favourite girl remains are also buried here somewhere. I say somewhere because it is a public cemetery and wherever they are, they are either below other remains or over other remains. Also it was unmarked in a month. People use the wooden crosses as fuel after they steal them in the dead of the night.

We steal even from the dead.

But when I go there, I feel her energy even though it's fading now. But the best part is I can still visualise her in my mind going about when she was raising us. And that means a whole lot.

Enough of the opening up... thanks for coming to my eventful share ♡

The photos are all mine. Taken with a Nokia 6 phone. The first one, the sun decided to show up for a second and then left me a second later fighting some sudden dark clouds with my 'camera.' The rest three have been edited with Photoshop Express a bit to look 'presentable.'