I time travelled
I moment moved
Through freezing fog
Through stilled air

Where dreams blend with reality
Where souls battle in serenity
In the deep of the night
In the depth of despair

I crossed the seven hills
I crossed the seven seas
Where lost souls hover endlessly
Where cursed souls wail in peril

I saw where the earth
And the heaven unite
There my journey begins

The Other Woman (1)

Prompt: Three children are sitting on a log near a stream. One of them looks up at the sky and says…

“It ends today”, he said, his eyes fixed on the shadow he had been chasing for ten years. His heart was thumping madly in his chest but he kept running. He tripped and grabbed the nearest tree for support. And then he heard the laughter, like the sound of water flowing from a bottle. It was so disturbingly familiar. It was all he could hear in the silence of the night when sleep took its flight and during the day when he was alone in his thought.

He was on a gentle rise with trees closing in around it from all sides. He turned around, straining his ears for any sound that would tell him where it might be, nothing except the gentle flow of a stream down the slope on his right. He had lost it again. His legs wobbled slightly as he trudged toward the stream. “Strange,” he muttered. “I have been here before.” He frowned as he searched his mind for when. He just knew he had been there with someone but who? He kept walking toward the stream, he had to get closer, even though he felt faint he had to. There was a log by the stream, it wasn’t there before. It was as if he conjured it up himself when he thought of resting. He sat on it, he just knew he should. The sky was grey, but the sun was still there fighting to take control.

He was rocking to the steady flow of the stream when he heard something. He turned and saw her standing about ten feet from him. The gentle breeze gave life to her powder blue gown, swaying to its beat. He got up and walked toward her. Her hair, woven in thick braids was tied at the nape of her neck with a white ribbon. Her eyes were huge and dark. “You are a woman” he said.
She cackled “And you’re always so slow. I see nothing has changed.”

His eyes hardened, “Why have you been tormenting me? Slowly she turned and melted into the breeze. He blinked, and she was perched on the log, staring at the sky. He frowned and followed her gaze. There was a very bright star in the sky, sparkling and beside it another one pale and fading. When he looked down at her again, she was a child of about eight years. She had the same face but her eyes were sad. Her face was glistening in the dark and when he peered at them, they were tears. She got up and started to walk away.

“Stop! Who are you? Why have you been haunting me?” She turned and resumed her pose on the log. He didn’t want to move closer to her, she might disappear again. He had to put an end to his misery and solve this mystery “for ten years you have tormented me, why?

“You are still slow, I have been teasing you all your lifetime.”
“What does that mean?
“It means it’s what I do, dreams notwithstanding”.
“This is a dream?
“Of course, Bablo, otherwise I wouldn’t be here”.
His eyes grew round and their brows went up. “How do you know that name? She smiled. “Speak now …”
“Or what? You are always all barks, Tade. And teasing you is my pleasure. It’s all I have now, unless you tell me to leave,” she said sashaying toward him with each word.
“Who are you”?
“What! I can’t believe you ask me that, she said, pouting. It hurts.
“Who are you”!
She shook her head “You have to remember me, Bablo. You have to.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You have to remember me, before it’s too late.”

“I can’t believe you lured me here for this child’s play. I had hoped baba was right about me having a woman in another realm, and I almost believed him for a while. Leave me alone, woman. Go, and never come back.” She shrank back, her dark eyes turned green and glowed. The little girl vanished and in her place was the beautiful woman with pink lips and fiery red eyes.

The pink lips opened and she spoke in a hoarse voice “There will be a time when you would need me. You would seek me but will never find me” there was rustling of leaves and trees and she was gone. The log sank into the ground and disappeared as well as the stream. When he looked at the sky there was only one star and then it was gone and so was the night.

He suddenly felt lonely. He placed his right palm on the left side of his chest and rubbed gently. “I didn’t mean it,” he said to the wind and the sky. He felt as sad as the woman and was surprised when tears dropped onto his chest. “Please, come back”.

He looked up to see his wife hovering over him her hands on his shoulders. “Wake up, Tade. Are you alright”?
“I think so”. She called me Bablo. How did she know my childhood pet-name?
“The dream again”? He nodded and rubbed his eyes.
“Did you dream too?” She shook her head

She swallowed hard and blinked back the tears. If Baba was right then she would never know the joy of motherhood. The woman in her husband’s shadow would never allow her to conceive. Her offspring would be limited to the three children playing by the stream in her dream. If only she could share his dreams.

“You must find out who she is and what she wants.” He nodded as he pulled her closer. For the first time in their seven years of marriage, he hid the dream from her.
“Do you think baba is right”? she asked after a while.
“No. We don’t need to worry about that now.” She rested her head on his chest, wondering who she was.




This post is part of the East Africa Friday Feature entry.


Read Other Stories from Participating Bloggers

Alien Abduction

The Hyena’s Marriage – Day 12



Let It Out

Let it out
Let it flow
Let it glow
On your cheeks
Down your chest
Be mad
Be sad
Scream some
Wail loud and long
Like a banshee
Let the wind
Ferry your fear
Far, far away
Give your grief
Worries and sorrow
To the breeze of the night
Roll them all
Into the trash
Throw them out
And let them go

I Remember (1)

I remember her eyes. There was something eerie about them. I can almost see her now like I did four years ago. She was dark and thin, but there was strength in those eyes, in their depth. The way she blinked and widened them….I still get goose bumps whenever I remember them. She was feeble but her upper arms were strong; thin, but steady like her icy eyes.
I was about to jump into the waiting cab when they flung opened and our eyes met. Mine held, even when hers dropped to straighten her floral skirt. I hardly stare or take much notice of strangers but for some reasons I was glued to that spot. I was frozen. Now, when I think of it, I still have no idea why I paused.
When she looked up, I looked away, embarrassed like a child caught peeping through a key hole. Then I saw a young man, maybe her brother judging from the same set of full upper lips and oversized nose. He looked worn out in a dirty jeans and faded t-shirt holding her wheel chair. I stepped back to give him room, just realising then that I was blocking the way. I couldn’t stop myself from watching their well mastered performance of moving her from the car to the chair. How she folded and shrank her body into a ball, her hands hugging her chest to make it easier for him to lift her into the wheelchair. I was enthralled. Then our eyes met again. I turned and hurried on to get another cab even as the driver was calling me to come back. As I was about to to step onto the cab, I glanced back and our eyes met, again. Hers hardened and then widened, with contempt? I have no idea. I wondered why at first, then I realised she must find it irritating. I wished then that I could show her my thoughts. Or maybe she was offended that I didn’t take the cab? I sighed and closed the door.
I tried not to look to my right as I rode to lecture. But I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering to her. I pictured her bathing, dressing, growing from girlhood to womanhood. I wondered if she had a boyfriend. Will she have children, know the joy of motherhood? Then I saw another boy hopping on one leg and a wooden crutch. I wondered what happened to him too, was he born that way, or an accident? How does he survive every day knowing tomorrow would be the same? What does he do when in danger? Who looks out for him? Who takes care of them all? I didn’t have to wait for long to find out. As I didn’t return to my home or bed until four months later. I spent those months in a surgical ward with a front row view watching “Behind the Scene of an Amputee Life”.
Now, I know.

My Yesterday

Yesterday, I didn’t know I’d be here
My day was so peaceful and gay
I had no inkling of this moment
Oh, I long for my yesterday

Now, when I pause to think of it
How could you be so tricky?
If you’d warned me I’d be ready
For this moment in my today

Suddenly, I’m not where I used to be
Clearly, I’m not where I wanted to be
Where are you taking me today?
So punic you are my yesterday

The Woman in the Mirror (1)

I saw her today, this morning. I have seen her every day for as long as I can remember. But today, I really saw her, the woman in the mirror, when she told me her story.
When she was a young girl, she would only look in the mirror to check if her hair was well brushed. To see if her appearance was modest enough for the church. She couldn’t stay too long because it was vain. When she became a lady, she would sit in front of the mirror to admire her beauty. She would stare just to revel in her freedom to do so for as long as she could. She would squint, then widen her eyes, pout and pucker her lips, roll her tongue and finally gently applied her make-up. She would take extra care on her big black eyes and sumptuous lips. And then she would stare some more to admire her handiwork.
Today, she looked nothing like the girl or the lady. She is a woman. A woman who stared long and hard in the mirror but saw nothing of her exquisite beauty. A woman who now looked into the face in the mirror, beyond the face, into the woman to see her soul, her heart, her journey. A woman who bears no resemblance to the girl or the lady.


Like a merry-go-round
I’m travelling in circles
Trying to find my way to me

I used to think everybody
Is moving on without me
But we’re all the same person
Moving in circles

Like a merry-go-round
I’m travelling in circles
Trying to find my way to me

What if the ride
Is not the way to me?
What if I don’t have
To come back to me?
What if the road to me?
Is to lose myself
Inside myself

All I’ve been doing
Is traveling in circles
Like a merry-go-round
Trying to find my way to me

Ride me home
I’ll never let go
Till I know
If this road
Leads to me