Friday, 29 January 2016

PAPA MMESO: HARMATTAN AGAIN!

Even before the alarm clock shattered the peaceful night, I shivered. The cold woke me up. I pried my eyelids open and it hit me. Malaria! Chai not this time o. I have been receiving treatment since December 2014 till the end of last year. God you should be kind to me…God I deserve a break.
caboose.org.uk
I had to get up – fearing the worst. How would I start explaining to the principal at this moment? I hate making excuses. Writing letter of excuse has not been my strong point from day one.
I struggled to my feet and went out to pick my towel. The punch hit me hard. A well connected sucker punch. It was cold again…thought harmattan has gone for good. I grabbed my towel and dashed into the house. Lasgidi has failed me at the time I needed it most. Thank God it wasn’t Malaria after all.
I use to pride myself on bathing with cold water but today was a different ball game. I gritted my teeth like a man who had a bullet been pried from his shoulder with a knife as I poured cold water over me.
I had a feeling that God must have had his 9,000000 horse power air-condition fixed for good this time. I exhumed my pullover, got dressed and headed out into the cold.
Couple of minutes later, I was in a Keke Napep heading towards Costain. The driver was an astute guy, I ran into him with no passenger in the cab but before we could get to Bode Thomas junction, we were packed full.
I was gritting my teeth as we zoomed down Eric Moore Street, when I saw her. She was bundled up in a sweater, couldn’t make out the type. She had a torch tucked into her hair firmly held down by a piece of cloth as she was pealing potato. The trailer was her only buffer against the cold. I pray she hasn’t cut her hand yet.


I am not a magician but I can swear with little room for error that they is a child/children somewhere she’s got to feed. Why must it be women all the time? I watch ball a lot and one thing I have come to hear from them most of the time is their mum did this, mum did that. Where d’hell are the men?
I used to ask myself where the menfolk are. Seems I have to believe in reincarnation. If not for anything else maybe so that I can be a woman in my next life. I can’t just let it go – women stealing all the praises. Even when we (the guys/fathers) spend hours outside the home trying to make money to put the house together.
What is it that men has got wrong? Is making money a bad business now? Or shall we all just come home, babysit the child and let hunger wipe us all out? Why do children especially the male ones fly after their mum like a piece of metal after a magnet? I know men who leave home as early as that woman just to go make ends meet. Why must women cheat us on this? Does it have anything to do with their nature? Is there something we (men) are missing they are spot on?
I felt for her. I knew what it means to wake up as early as 4:30 am when sleep cranks up its gear and the human body settles in for the sweetest ride.  She’s doing it for Mmeso. How many Mmeso does she have at home? Are they as small as my Mmeso?
One thing I have come to appreciate about women is their innate ability to dispense with logic and their tenacious trust to that firm belief that things will work out as they have planned it. Maybe men have got to learn from this too. Most guys would beat Aristotle in a logical bout if such an opportunity ever materializes.

I got to school by 6:20 and headed for the chapel to thank God for mummy Mmeso peeling potato along Eric Moore road. Lo they were before perfectly seated listening to the reading…future mummy Mmesos in the making.
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