Monday, 23 February 2009

The Hospital

Samalie kept her eyes on her mother, wondering what would have happened if her aunt had come a few minutes later. The drugs had knocked her out. The doctor said it wasn't bad. Could have been but it wasn't. She just needed a lot of rest. It was the diabetes and stress.The old lady had fallen asleep at the wheel. Luckily she wasn't driving fast when a few minutes later, her car made contact with the one in front of her. The insurance company would have to be contacted, the other driver was raising dust.

It was a large ward, lots of beds, so many sick people. How did so many people get to be this sick at the same time. The atmosphere was heavy with fear, sickness and death. The old lady would have to be moved.

The two sleepless nights were beginning to take a toll on Samalie. She decided to take a stroll, the smell of medicine and vomit from the other patients in the large ward wasn't helping either. Just then she passed by the bed of an old woman or man the disease, must have been AIDS, had so ravaged the body that all Samalie saw was skin thinly stretched of a skeleton. She turned her face away and hurried out, trying to ignore the sight around her.

Outside, finally. The sight of death sickened her. Funny how just the night before she had longed for the veil of death to close her eyes. She was looking for peace. No one on those hospital beds looked like they were heading for it though. It looked like torture. She leaned on the railing.

How did she get here? She couldn't remember exactly. But it must have been that night, the first time they'd met.

Thursday, 19 February 2009

The Beginning

There was a sharp knock on the door, it roused her from her pilgrimage to the past and her eyes began to focus again on the drugs in her hand. How many were they? 20? 30? She didn't know. How many were enough to ensure you never woke up? That knock on the door again. Irritating but I suppose if your going to die having a few visitors doesn't hurt. The pills were dropped into a drawer in the desk along with the empty can they came in.

"Just a minute,"she shouted at the door, got up from the chair and stumbled to the mirror. She looked terrible, the make up from the day before still on, in smudges. She turned on the tap and bent over into the bath tub, letting the water run over her face and her hair, grabbed a towel, rubbed briskly before looking into the mirror again. Not much improvement. The knock on the door again.

"I said am coming!",she roared, hurried to the door and pulled the door open to reveal the plump figure of her bewildered aunt. Her eyes widened at Samalie's ghastly sight, it took her a moment before the urgency of her errand took over.

"Its your mother, she's been in an accident."

Tuesday, 17 February 2009

All Grown Up

I have loved seeing you become the man you are now. I'm amazed at the things you do, the decisions you make, and boast about your wisdom. Its been a pleasure to watch you succeed and see failures push you to make something better of yourself. I've watched as you put medal upon medal on your wall, everything from best golfer to employee of the year and I am proud of you, son. But watching your heart get crushed makes me long for the time that you were young so I could make the pain go away with just a word.

I wish I could make you stay and never grow up but I've watched year after year as the puppy fat fades away and the youthful fantasies dwindle to be replaced with an edge of bitterness only life can give and I hate that life has robbed you of your dreams. I wish to still time, to beg it to not take you away from me.

I long for the days when the promise of ice cream was all it took to bring back your smile, when being rich consisted of having shs500 in your pocket, when another episode of scooby doo was all it took to make you forget the scolding you got earlier.

I long for the days, you could run around in your underwear and not have anything to be afraid of, when comic books and spider man costumes was what our hearts longed for and becoming a superhero was your life's ambition. In a way you are a hero, but you found , like most of us have, that sometimes you can't save yourself.

Now I must admit that you are a man and though I wish to hold you and kiss the pain away, hide you from the world a little a longer, I know I cannot ease your broken heart and I must let you make your own choices.

Selfish mother that I am, I must learn to let you go, to let you discover the thorns among the roses. I must let you love and be loved and if you get hurt again, to let you find your way like you always have. I must trust that you will be fine, that I raised you right. So I will let you grow up and I will be a mother to a man and not to a little boy.

Friday, 6 February 2009


I watched as you slowly stripped me of any animation
Petal by Petal fell off this rose till I stood empty and alone.


I watch as you slowly coax my emptiness back to life with a smile
and the flickering embers of my dying heart to a burning flame.