Tag Archives: Kenya

Blossoming Weariness

I went outside today after being holed up inside like a hermit for the past two days. I turned the corner towards the recycling bins and the rain began, little trickles like gentle ripples in a waterbed and then bam the ultimate English shower shooting thunderously like bullets. Suddenly a line pops into my head and I recite it out loud.

In sooth I know not why I am so sad, it wearies me, you say it wearies you.

Shakespeare, I never got along with him at school. He didn’t make much sense when he spoke to me so I refused to listen and took him no further than the compulsory play each English class had to take part in. I was appalled that my class didn’t get Romeo and Juliet. I think a love story would have been right up my street but alas we got The Merchant of Venice instead.

That one line, the very first line of the play has stuck with me all these years. It pops into my head sporadically at random moments and everytime I grin like a chesire cat in awe of myself for still knowing it ‘this, however many’ years later.

Today I calculated it at 16 years. Boy does that make me feel old! I remember when if I was to say 16 years ago, I was talking about my birth or my baby years; not sixteen years ago I was entering my teenage years, studying Shakespeare.

It was strange that the line fell from my lips in full old exam recital mode as I have felt weary and sad so many times throughout my life, in fact even only a day ago and yet today the Shakespearean quote makes its appearance when I am wholly euphoric.

I, me, yes… I, have ‘possibly’ found a way to return to my beloved Kenya with my son in tow and to top it off enter upon a magical place. Instead of just going and visiting family and living just as mundane or stressful a life as I lead here I have stumbled across a place that seems heavenly. This will be a real adventure, of travel and exhilaration and exploration. I am so excited I could burst and it isn’t even official yet!

So, maybe Shakespeare is quite insightful after all as The Merchant of Venice character begins wholly weary but finds love and adventure as I may be doing again with scouring long stretches of beaches and trailing through green paths towards an ultimate waterfall. What more could a girl want than to travel through the country she once called home with new eyes and see the most amazing things. I shall let the happiness flow through me as my path begins a woeful one but merges and blossoms into a fairy-tale.

I shall ride the wave of euphoria as long as it shall last for I know that at some point my fears and anxieties will kick in and until then I want to enjoy the imagination, the dreaming part of those first steps along the road of travel. This right here is where it begins, in the discovery of planning and dreaming.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/recite/

You Shall Not Pass

I walked to the door and as my hand floated in the air, ready to push it open, he came up close beside me. My hand frozen, resting on the door I turned to look up at him.

‘I can go to the toilet by myself.’ I told him. ‘I am not a child.’

He looked a little perplexed but smiled and pushed the door open, standing in the doorway as I made my way through the grasses towards the outside toilet.

I had grown accustomed to my new partner accompanying me to the toilet at night and had welcomed its feeling of safe security and love but tonight, in order for my plan to work, I needed to be alone.

I sensed his eyes on me, watching, as I picked my way through the night and over to the corrugated iron cubicle. I stepped tentatively up to the wooden door, turned around and knew that as I could no longer see the house, he couldn’t possibly see me either.

In one fluid movement I leapt and sprinted under the tree that stood tall over prickly thorn shrubs. I weaved in and out to stay as hidden as I could without daring to glance back at the house that was now in view. I fled out the gate and up the trail of earthen soil. I had only the stars to light me in the blanketed blackness of sky that surrounded me but somehow I saw it all. I was like an athlete, so far ahead of the race than any stragglers behind had no chance of catching up with me. I had no idea how my once asthma ridden, poor excuse for lungs were open enough to let me run on. I wasn’t even the slightest bit out of breath, gazelle like in my ability as I cantered up the mountain.

I had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do once I had made it to the village, all I knew was that I had to escape this hell I was living in and there was no one else around to help me but me.

I paused as I made it to the gap that led out to the smaller, steeper stretch of climb to the mountain top. I could hear voices. My heart, that had been serenely silent until this moment, began thudding, trying to pound its way out of my chest. I tried to rationalise the thoughts spinning around in my head. It was OK, no one could stop me? No one WOULD try to stop me. Only them I had left back at home. Strangers wouldn’t bother with me. I tried to stay calm as the voices drew nearer.

I saw them before they saw me and I felt like I had died a thousand deaths. It was our very own maid, making her way down the slip path. I hadn’t even known she was due back from visiting her family. Another silhouette followed her footsteps. I recognised him too, the man from the village who always wore sunglasses. He was wearing them now as he carried her small son on his shoulders. They made it to my stretch of earth, stopped stunned and stared at me.

‘Where are you going?’ the maid asked.

‘Just to the village.’ I said, trying to act nonchalantly as I prayed they didn’t hear the thunderous sound of my heart beating inside my chest.

‘It’s very late.’ the man added. ‘Where is your husband?’

‘Oh he’s just at home. Yes I know it’s late. I won’t be long.’

The two of them had created an almost barrier in front of the pass opening.

‘I don’t think you should go alone.’ the man said again.

‘It’s alright. I won’t be long. I’ll be back.’

My heart was sinking as I knew they knew something was wrong and my unconvincing lines were having no affect.

The man walked towards me, having put the little boy down.

‘Please let me go.’ I said, almost hysterically whilst trying to speak as calmly as I could. ‘I promise I will be back.’

‘What are you going there for?’

‘Just… you know…’ but he didn’t know and neither did I.

The maid had moved forwards and was on the other side of me. I made to run but the maid grabbed me hard and held my arms to my side.

‘Let me go!’ I screamed.

I tried once more to convince them.

‘I’m really just going to the village. I will come back, I promise.’

She didn’t ease up on her grip.

‘Let me go!’ I shouted, panicked. ‘You can’t keep me here.’

The man tried to calm me, talking in soothing tones, although I have no recollection of what he was saying.

‘I’m not a prisoner.’ I shouted defiantly. ‘You can’t keep me here!’

My partner’s first wife was running up the hill towards us. The grip on me hadn’t loosened and I felt more and more frightened. They all spoke as if I wasn’t there, in their own language as I all I could do was stand stock still, imprisoned by those clutch of hands. The first wife began shouting obscenities at me, telling me I was an awful wife to my husband and that he didn’t love me. My mind blocked her words, I knew them to be untrue. I began begging to be let go as the wife continued her tirade of abuse. I was trying to let as much slip off me as I could but then something struck.

‘If he loved you. Where is he? He didn’t come to get you. He is sat at home, uncaring.’

I pulled violently and after standing still for so long it had shocked the maid enough that she wasn’t gripping tight enough. I stepped backwards out of her reach. The three of them encircled me in seconds and I had no way out.

‘Please.’ I begged. ‘Just let me go. If it is true what you say, then you will let me go.’

The wife shouted at me once more.

‘He told me he doesn’t care where you go and that he is happy for you to leave!’ she shouted at me.

My wall had been broken and everything inside me seemed to fade as the wife took hold of my wrist. I let out the most ear wrenching shriek, it shocked even me.

‘I HATE YOU!’ I wailed into the night.

She gasped, stunned and as she paused I threw her hand from its grasp around me and flung myself backwards to the floor. I felt as each jagged stone etched itself into my back and felt the thud as my head hit the ground. They stayed in their circle around me, unmoving and I lay still, staring up at the black sky, broken.

I heard a voice calling my name, making its way through the harsh words being yelled down at me. My eyes flickered forwards and I saw him in the distance making his way towards us. The circle began to part as he neared and I stood, flying past them, into his arms.

He did love me. Here was the proof. He had come for me. Didn’t that say it all?