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The Ambulance

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Melting Ice Towers

I had just woke up. The time was 05.30hrs. My ever-Busy wife was still sleeping. At the corner of the spacious bedroom, I sat on a low-height jewel locker with my iPhone on my right hand as I watched her. Her face soo innocent and beautiful as her eyes closed firmly. The blankets on top of her rising up and down in response to her unfailing healthy lungs. I recapitulated in my short term memory of the episodic matrimonial day when I looked her straight in the eyes and kissed her full eager lips in front of a huge congregation. It was an awesome thought. The first few months haven’t been hard as people say about marriage.

So today was to be a huge day for us since a certain Cabinet Secretary was to hold a Welcome-Home ceremony to his Abroad kid who would be arriving in the country in a few hours. My wife and I were qualified photographers who were well experienced and had degrees in photography too. We would be called in almost all the big events due to the sensational images and our daring professional prowess to impress on such events. Our work was a sure gate pass.

I looked out of the large bedroom window and gazed at the city roads. The city looked beautiful. There was no traffic jam at the time. Some mega supermarkets and stores were still operating. Thanks to big business investors who understand the art of making money and satisfying their clients.
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BRUNT: THE PIMP’in VOYAGE

[THE DANGEROUS LIVES OF LONG DISTANCE TRUCK DRIVERS   ]

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Mombasa (Kwakiziwi Region)
Issa rolled on his king-sized bed with a bat’s eye and stretched his arm to the left switching off the noisy alarm. The time was 2am on Wednesday morning. His right hand was numb due to the spooning posture he had lain with his wife Alika. Alika in Swahili means ‘most beautiful’. He stealthy removed his arm from his wife’s bosom and sat on the bed; His feet touching the cold linoleum floor. He needed to be on his truck by 3am to kick off the long journey to Uganda. He was a truck driver whose return to home formulae had been critically disorganized. The last time he had managed to be home was 3 months ago. He had just arrived the previous night to meet his family; wife and two kids who are in nursery school. He had not even spent 24hrs at his vicinity. He was now getting ready to take off. Before he got out of the bed, Alika, his wife, tagged him using her leg.

‘Hey Babe? What’s up?’ she asked as she rubbed her eyes due to the effect of the bright fluorescent tube above them.
‘I have to be going. This is what we live on. It’s where I get my income.’ He responded as he stretched his hand and beckoned Alika to come closer. She was accustomed to these kind messages for some time now. She could not imagine the solitude-ness and how hard it was to stay without her husband for months. She had survived all the times. She felt it as a heavy burden on her. All in all, she had to agree to that fact.

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My 14th Day In Prison

Article by: (Ken & Speranza)

jail

I reminisce the days when I arrived home in the evening and hugged my beautiful wife. The days when I opened my car’s front door and my kids rushed to hug me calling me ‘daddy’ as they ransacked through the shopping paper bags in a bid to get what dad had brought for them. How we watched TV together as a family as we laughed our ribs out in the living room. The great moments when we ate together as a family at the dining table at the Centre of our home are still fresh on my mind. I miss the many times when I slept on the same matrimonial bed with my wife. We occasionally gazed at each other and had some ‘extravaganza’ episode before we slept in a very cordial pose. In the morning, I would take both my wife and my kids. I would drop my kids to school as I drove my wife to work at a certain corporate company.

 

All that familial happiness ended in a single day when my ‘40’ days were over. It happened in a flash such that upto now, I cannot explain it.

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