Chapter 4 : The move
604 Words
I heard footsteps slowly approaching our little shack. Slowly opening my eyes to see Chris with some twigs for the fire. He lit the fire place and the dark room illuminated with light. We cuddled and slept soundly until dawn.
" Chris wake up..., we have to take the bus by 6:30."
Just like a kitten not want his sleep disrupted he lazy got up. We got busy packing the few rugs we called clothes: they could barely fit our medium sized bags. We eat some watermelons that grew in our little backyard. After we freshened up and left our tiny home. A home we had known all our life.
We headed to the nearby bus stop to get our tickets. It was a chilly morning and our torn black woolen sweaters were all we had to shield us from the cold.We used the money mom had left in the hospital for the tickets purchase setting forth to Sun City. We had no other option but go to Sun city where mum now lived.
Chris fell a sleep after some minutes on the bus but on the other hand I couldn't sleep. Thoughts of the place I had always called home now I had to leave behind. Tears threatening: with the thoughts of a new family and the comfort we knew gone,but I knew I won't let what happened in the past repeat itself.
I was resolute to make things different I knew what to expect seeing as to I had already lived through this. I silently thanked the heavens for giving me another chance to make a difference. With this thoughts in mind I too drifted to sleep.
I woke up after hearing the bus honking three times to indicate we had arrived at our destination.
" Chris wake up, we are here."
We took our bags and alighted the bus. It was around 2 o'clock: the sun was hidden behind the clouds and outside the bus station the rush lunch hour was coming to an end and people of various walks of life hurriedly to their work stations.
Hailing a cab,
" Kindly take us to Mr.Mamba residence on 33 th street." I told the driver as we settled in our seats.
" Sure Mrembo meaning beautiful," the drive responded.Swahili was a commonly spoken language in K country.
The road was smooth and the tall buildings in the city were beautifully built, but I couldn't focus on their beauty. My thoughts were occupied by what we were to face. If I remember correctly Mr. Mamba had evil twins who were older than me by a year. Their hearts were cold and blackened.
I stared at my young brother and vowed that he won't suffer any injustices this time round.
"Tumefika meaning we have arrived," the driver's voice came cutting through.
" It's 3 dollars," his voice came again.
I reached out in my pocket to see it was the exact amount left. I handed over the money and for the first time took a clear view of this shabby driver. He was a little over 35 years, he had a pot belly and a big moustache dyed brown. He was dark, reaching out with his sweety hands taking the cash.
"Asante meaning thanks," his voice came through as we alighted the cab. He sped off.
In front of us was Mr.Mamba residence, just like I remembered it was a 3 floor storey building built with the modern design.
"Let's go Chris,"
Taking my hand, " is this going to be our home?" Chris asked curiously
Smiling I responded ," yes it is."
- Writer
