Friday, 19 August 2016


I saw her today. It’s been weeks since our path crossed or since I came to Saint Dominic’s Catholic Church – our rendezvous point.

A lot of goodies had passed her way as far as my eyes could tell, ranging from an appreciated body mass, the slight chubby face to her little brother who’s growing by the day.

I knew lady fortune has gone overboard lavishing them with the best life can throw at sweet innocent children.
She got me thinking again.

She figuratively held my hands and took me down memory lane’s dusty street – into the past, present and of course the future.

The result of this thinking process gives me hope – a kick in the heart that makes it bit faster with excitement.

I would say her presence is akin to a key that’s ignites the engine of my thinking faculty.

I think about me, my world view, my experiences, what has happened to me in the past. It is more like a life evaluation process with an examiner whose face drips with nothing but pure maternal warmth.

It has been the same me all through these years – from the moment I became conscious of myself till date.

Often I can vividly remember events of my childhood. But most of the time, I rely on other people’s information to fill up the void.

Some of the memories are worth dreaming about while some, I would prefer burying ten feet below the ground. Together, they paint a clear picture of who I am.

Ten years to come, it is still going to be the same me plus a bit of beards maybe the white ones too shooting of hither thither but still the same me relieving life experiences.

Forgotten I was in the church. Mmeso is really messing with my mind with all this thinking stuff.

She is growing bigger by the day. Today was a testament to the fact. Stupid I, instead of focusing on the mass was busy admiring my little lady.

Whenever I see her, I think about the future – maybe it is a sign that I will be a good dad. What else does a doting dad think about if not the welfare of his lads and lasses?

Imagine Mmeso in the next five or ten years. What would she look like? What would she be thinking about – her future, boyfriend, career path etc.

How rich would her experiences be or worth?

Has opportunity knocked at her door? How many times has she accepted or rejected its invitation?

It is indeed a seducing thought. I was an artist, I would have painted lovely pictures of what I’d wish her.

Quiet a sobering experience I dare to say.
She unconsciously reminds me that tomorrow as pregnant as it may be is determined today.

I left the church much sober than a drunkard who woke up on a pavement in an unknown street.

Mmeso left without saying goodbye. Can't blame her though...

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