THE CHILD

The Child

With the winds against them
They trudged along the lonely road
Homewards where there was hope
A hope of warmth and shelter from the devil in the winds!

Mother and child they appeared
But from the fifteens' in her cheek
Where stood tears upon her tender face
You could tell the child who bore the child
As they staggered through the journey!

It was a bitter weather
And the temperature had dropped a bit lower
Forcing the young mother on such a night
To visit the apothecary uphill
For a solution to the infants malady!

She too had a ruckus in her chest
But for tender sake and pocket driven fear
She considered the life of her replica
Swaddled in the thin blanket!

Like the Sire of this little thing
Her family too disclaimed her
That she was a disappointment
Having gotten green malt in the floor!

Back to where she called home
She takes a seat in the corner
Rocking her infant child who relentlessly cried
Shooing the little one as the stern faces of her family watched her
From every corner of the living room!

A tune she hums her gaze focused on the branches near the window
With the infant lying in her lap
Now drowsy owing to the potion
Administered by the man uphill
For two hundred naira
The only money she owned!

Looking into the face of her child
Curled up in a ball

The child shed tears in silence
As she silently wished she was older
Or that she had known the guile of men!

The candle standing in the bowl on the dresser
Slowly gave out a bright light
As it went out in the wind
Leaving the humming mother and child in the dark!

The moonlight shone through the shutters
Illuminating the snoring bodies about the room
She quickly set her wrapper in the corner
Carving a niche for herself and child
On the cold cemented floor of the living room/makeshift bedroom
From where in tears she made her way to dreamland
Where the bitter reality of life was momentarily taken away!

From as Life as I know it!

By
John Martins Agba