ILLUSION

''Life is an illusion, she said. Whatever you see does not exist. It is the figments of your imagination. The problems, the pains, the uncertainty are not real; you just believe them to be so."

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Kelvin bolted into consciousness only to find out that it was a dream. The same eerily visions and statement he had had in weeks.

The night was deep, cold and scary. The room was so silent that he could hear every fetch and miss of his breath. For a moment, he thought she was right there with him. Her presence felt so heavenly and divine, as if her soft palms exacted solace to his being, reaching down to his cheeks to wipe the growing tears in his eyes. For it was very natural to cry. Hunger and loneliness was of great assistance if he were to cry, so the tears flowed with ease.

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Kelvin had lost the sense of living ever she left; the sense of existence was his only knowledge of the world.

"Why not take me along with you" he said in measured silence amidst tears.

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On a second thought, he would not want to be there with her. But he knows too that he wants not this life of his. Truth is, he really doesn't know what he wants.

If indeed there was a God, He had forsaken him. Help comes not from the west, nor succor from the south. He turns north, only to meet abyss. Down East is the dome of Hades.

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He had never believed in prayers, but in this state of deep desire for comfort, it seemed to be his last resort.

Then he stood, calculatively lowered his knees to the earth, and in gentle strides bowed his head. His comment was an incoherent mutter;

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"God, give me strength to face that which I cannot overcome" soon afterwards, nature took its cause.

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The life of man upon this earth is warfare, till he becomes a reluctant participant in an organized burial. _ Job 7 v 1.

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Back to the years__ Kelvins thoughts go wondering. Back to the Golden years of his thin but short youth. Life hadn't been fair, but it was generous to provide him a loving home. His home was not what anybody could ask of being perfect. As a matter of fact, they were poor, bereft of the necessities of living. However, that which he lost in common amenities, he found in love.

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His mother was his only known guardian growing up. A devout Christian she was. Outstanding in character, a born hustler who didn't deserve the background she got. Blame it on poverty; she had no benefits of a good education.

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The shoddy knowledge he had of his father was that of a man, conscripted into the army just months after marriage. He was caught in the pangs of war, and died for the well being of his country and family. His tales of bravery in war made him Kelvin's dead and living hero. For his strength had brought Kelvin into this world and in same, he lives still.

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Kelvin grew up as a single child, with the support provided only by his mother, through the thick and thin of the seasons, she provided food, shelter, and clothing.

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Her Providence of meals was not what one might think of being a good food. Nevertheless, Kelvin basked joyfully with smiles of the habit of a square meal in every twenty four hours. It was never enough, but neither did he grow an impious and profane attitude of asking for more. That will be insensitive.

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Shelter was a make-shift of a room apartment, made and constructed with the remains of zinc garnered from different building site. They learnt how well to adapt with various elements and weather condition. The days of the rain, being most tedious to live with, but as kid, Kelvin loved the adventure. The effect of the weather however, is leaving Kelvin in a structure and situation not comprehended, compatible and foreseen by his mother. He was allergic to cold, and with no money to visit the doctor or a hospital, she would knee beside him all night, her Rosary over his head and wrapped in her hand. She would pray for healing and begged him not to die. Death would be a double blow to a sincere soul. He, being the only companion that life afforded her, would not want to give up. That would be cruel.

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His clothing was worn out wears from children born with a silver spoon. Children, whose parents could afford getting new ones at the thought of them being old. His mother, being skilled at mending, channeled her handiwork to revamping these clothes. He wore them with pride, and talked about the love in every of her stitch. For not been grateful would be ignoble.

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Kelvin, like his mother could not afford the luxury of an education. School was for those few privileged that God had blessed to know its joy. The same God his mother prayed and made supplications to. He had developed a curious and pensive mind about the unfairness and partiality of this God. But at each instance he walked up to his mother to question the reason the same God which they worship in church with others, would provide more for others and deprive them of these common necessities of life. The mother, with a gentle and soft tone, would tell him about the great and massive wealth that awaited them the other side of this life. This however, soothed his pain temporary and being just a child, he would think of the life of future wonders.

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Though, Kelvin do not ever maintain that being born in this particular circumstances and situation was the most ill-sufficient and ill fated deed to befall any human being. For he still had the companionship and love of an improvident mother, that was all that matter. He had learnt to savor the pains of always wanting, as well as impressing himself with the idea of being rich and comfortable in the afterlife. This was his view of life and that which his mother had thought him from the Holy writ. One which he never thought he could question until tragedy struck.

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Kelvin was still young. He still had the protruding stomach of a child, but has known the ungodly knowledge of being naked and he afforded not taking his bath in the open anymore, but on the secret and dern places that adults would hide their birthday suit. His mother was on her way back from the day's hustle. Her head wrapped in a scarf, and was donned with a shabby but neat blouse. Her skirt was as long as the height of Kelvin. Her shape had not been corrugated by child bearing or the agedness of the years. She had looked remarkably beautiful for a woman in her circumstance.

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The weariness of the day was telling on her. From the looks on her face, her sole desire was rest and food. Kelvin had been fortunate or rather unfortunate of staying outside their make-shift shelter, when he saw the mother. The little strength of the meal which he had eaten the previous day and the prospect of an incoming food at the sight of his mother was a strong motivation for him to run across the road to welcoming her.

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The mother, overwhelmed by the joy of her incoming child, fixated her eyes intently to the boy, oblivious of the necessary danger of not looking out before crossing. The boy approached at full speed and hands spread from distance, in joy of his soon to be satisfied organic need and knowledge of the satisfaction of his other needs, such as love and companionship. Then the impact! Not of the gentle and warm hug from a mother to son, but that which was straight, forceful and direct from an incoming car. The victim was a woman whose sin was to be caught in the moment of perfect unionism with her approaching child.

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The car stopped abruptly. The figure that stepped out of the car was awestruck by the collision and event that just happened. He tried approaching the victim, but did a double take. Against his better judgment he ran back into the car, and then absconded.

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Kelvin, too shocked to respond in instant approached the dying mother on the floor, and held her hands. Her head bled from the impact she made with the floor. He tried to call out mother but was numb, silent; eyes wide open in burgeoning tears. His hands moved in frantic act to stop the stream of blood from her head. Perspiration etched on his fore head and in no time, he was soaked in sweat. And the last statement he heard from her was;

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'I love you son, but God loves you more' with that she took the final straw of breath of a cruel world and her head dropped. His soul took the same last straw of breath with her. He had been living ever since but has found no reason to keep on keeping on.

The truth is, in the death of his mother, Kelvin died.

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Kelvin is every little child whose life is nothing but the reject of an orphan. Kelvin is every little child in the street coming to you with the aim of being blessed by your generosity. He is that little child who finds no reason to believe in God yet he was thought the same divinity who allowed this harshness on him is all benevolent. Kelvin is just a kid who wants the normal life of every other child. And the rough but infallible question is; is it too much to ask?

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THANKS FOR THE READ

Check out my last work; Vanity

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Image source: Pixabay