TAMED ✓ [Editing]

🌱| Reflections

Shenelle POV

"Ouch", I scream
My back hurts from lying on this hard cemented floor.
How I miss my soft, fluffy bed.

Fed up from lazying on the mat instead of sleeping, I decide to take a walk, you know just find something to feast my eyes on.
Its obvious that this whole rest situation isn't helping as my mind keeps moving from one thought to another.

I'm sure both Mma Memuna and Teeya think I'm fast asleep because they deliberately left me alone in the hut.

I walk around the mud house humming songs in my head and observing Stuff. The forecourt was big and swallowed a great portion of the entire house. It was the epicenter of all the activities, a place for Cooking, washing and also doubled as a lounge where one could just sit and chill. I also can't stand to notice how clean the forecourt was. For an area that busy one would expect that it should easily get dirty. But it wasn't? I am sure Teeya has a hard time getting it swept daily. Poor child, and once Mma Memuna is in charge, she has no excuse!

As I keep on admiring the spaciousness of the forecourt I realize that one of the huts was opened. Wanting to satisfy my curiousity, I move closer to see what room that was.

To my deepest surprise I find Mma sobbing and Staring continuously at an old vintage photo . From where I was standing, I couldn't see what or who was in that picture.

"Wow, I never knew Old soldiers too cry.
I guess I'm not the only one doing the crying today," I whisper to myself.

I step into the room and clear my throat to announce my presence. She had an unreadable look on her face, but I knew deep down she was surprised to see me.

She bends her head, trying to hide her tears. Not that it helped anyway, because I had already seen them.

I sit on the mat beside her and stare into the emptiness. She does same. Not wanting to change the atmosphere I hold myself back from asking further questions. Sometimes one's presence is enough to console a person!

Mma Memuna POV

Ah, I how wish I had closed this door. Now this my grandchild has seen me Shamefully crying.

I guess behind this wonderful and principled figure, there is nothing but a wounded and broken image. And that's me!

Should I or should I not tell her, I stare continuously at the wall contemplating what to do. For how long am I going to keep nursing this pain, this very pain which refuses to go.

"How is Nasara?" , I ask after deciding to spill it all out

Who?, Shenelle asks not having the slightest idea who I was talking about. From the look of things I could tell she has never heard such.

Should I or should I not? I can tell Nasara intentionally refused to tell her the truth. I am sure she is so disappointed to let her daughter know.

I clear my throat," Nasara...Your mother"

"Yolanda Walker?", She stammered out a name. One which I have equally never heard before.

It's been thirty years now, and am sure she has changed her name. How shameless of her! I never raised her that way!

I am hearing this name for the very first time, and i am already fuming within. My heart is in deep contrast with this new name of hers.
"Yolanda Walker", This doesn't fit at all. This is a mess

I adjust myself on the mat, and I am now ready to tell her daughter the real truth. I don't know how Shenelle will take this, but I hope this ends well.....