There's something about Anger.
It isn't patient, it does not wait for answers.
I had never seen anything like this before.
It was few minutes to four.
Mom was in the kitchen, making plantain.
In our one room self-con, we were trying to maintain.
I was ten years old.
The weather was extremely cold.
I wanted to go meet her in the kitchen to keep warm.
But she called out and said "Kamsi!, get me water from the drum"
So, I turned back.
Headed outside the house. It was dark.
But.. there was something I could see.
Across our street.
It was my father. And some other woman
At first, I thought it was some other man.
No, this was my father. They were holding hands
Kissing.. I mistakenly dropped the bowl in my hands
It made a loud noise. I didn't want my father to see me
I ran inside and pretended I didn't see.
In a split second, I heard our door bang
It was such a loud bang.
My father came in so furious.
Headed straight to the kitchen. I was curious.
"Why, did you send her outside?! You evil witch!"
You want to make me look like the bad one eh? You must be a bitch!".
"James.. I didn't know.."
Before she could finish, he gave her a blow.
There and then, right in front of my eyes.
Something within me died.
They say "curiosity kills the cat". This one killed me.
Literally. It was too much to see.
The first time I saw the one I call father.
Hit my mother.
I kept mumbling words to myself after that day.
There was so much to say..
What if I hadn't gone out that night?
What if I had closed my eyes towards that sight?
Would all these have happened?
Just.. What IF?
YOU ARE READING
WHAT IF?
PoetryLife is full of "what ifs". There's no end to it's uncertainty. This narrative poetry, entails how Kamsi's life mirrors a gruesome childhood, fear of the unknown, violence, bitterness as well as the painful process that comes with the journey towa...
