Tendai MwanakaSTOLEN FROM DEATHThere was this time when I was strong. And it was this other day when I woke up ill, and so very tired. My legs couldn't move no matter how harder I tried to make them do so and also I couldn't sit on my haunches. All of my right side was useless, stricken, like a dried branch of a tree and I couldn't take my food with my hands but could only grovel on my stomach and guzzle like an old dog. I couldn't swallow anything hard. I was now surviving on watery food, sometimes being spoon-fed like an infant. Days when the tragedy befell me, It was early in the morning when my son had gone to the shops to buy us our food. I didn't want to be trouble anymore so I took a razor blade, cut both my wrist's veins-that I could bleed to death silently. I don't know how I managed it and as if by cue my son returned earlier than I had thought, but I had bled terribly so bad. I didn't wish to die anymore, no. It was this other day when I woke up from this sleep and through the window I could peep at the sun's lingers filtering everyday, each new morning, as if there is no end to it all. I really wanted to live from that day onwards enjoying every small and every big moment until when I would, with satisfaction, close my eyes for the last time. |