The lost mzungu and other short stories- The tale of catherine

pg 5

My second born was born not so long after my first. Another boy, a blessing to be the mother of two beautiful boys. For one so young, the child could drive you mad with his talent for wailing. The months of his infancy were long, and the nights deprived of any peace or joy. For my child, as if possessed by a demon of torment could not stop crying; be it day or night. My efforts to silence him came to naught, and no offer of milk or lullaby could quiet this bundle of joy. But the years soon passed away, and the inevitable changes soon came and with them joy as plenty as the waters of seas.

I remember a time, when my boy was in elementary school and a bicycle ran him down. I remember he worry that invaded my gut, so strong and nauseating with a sense of dread. I still feel the anger, deep and unrelenting, at the rider who dares to harm my innocent angel. the love we feel for our children, the knowledge that no sacrifice is too big to make for their survival. And I go to my grave, still perturbed by the failure to comprehend why this feelings are not given to a few of the female kindred. A few who would lay down the lives of the innocent at the hands of surgical butchers or in the waste buckets of the street; to be devoured by all manner of unholy creatures. But perhaps such is the way of the world, for the bible prophesied it best, that both wheat and weed must coexist till the day of judgment.

He grew up tall and strong, and his devotion to hard work matched only by my own. Though rebellious in every way to authority, his attraction to work is like a dew that washes over the grass; while the sun still shies away from the sight of mere mortals. But our insistence saw him finish schooling and now pursues a vocational skill to prepare him for a future of responsibility; to family, nation and God.

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