This day was never meant to be my last day but now, it is. This is the story of my last day…

The clouds hang low, raining a sombre mood over the already gloomy atmosphere. The wind blows strong and furious but nothing says to its rhythm. The pillars of steel and concrete stay put, unwavering to the wind and this keeps the storey buildings unshaken. Pieces of broken glass from shattered window panes dance to the music of the wind as they avalanche to the ground.

It is a Saturday evening. Everyone is in a hurry to finish their errands before the downpour begins. Women adorn coats and coals, beanies and hoodies to cover their expensive wigs from any rain droplet that may spell havoc to their hair investment. Children are dressed in sweaters two time their size because that is what the African motherhood guides say. Men, on the other hand, are barely dressed for the weather, to say the least. They have just covered their essentials and seem to enjoy the heat of the cold.

The local supermarket is a buzz of activities. Shoppers and sellers seem to have a harmonious exchange, all in quiet and the soft music playing in the background dominates the calm. My shopping basket is only filled with a few essentials and consequently not heavy to the arm. I gracefully hold it in my left hand like a lady would a handbag and make the queue. In my right arm, I scroll through my Messenger app as I wait for my turn. The music playing on the speakers carries me away and I get lost in the lyrics, humming them beneath my mask.

I don’t notice I am humming them too loudly till the guy behind me taps and says, rather too loudly, “Madam, acha kushindana a radio!”
Aggravated, he leaves my queue and proceeds to make another queue. Is my singing that annoying?

I pay for my items in silence and then leave. My mind lingers at the guy’s comment about my singing. I know I miss all the keys but that doesn’t mean I can’t unlock my potential. He must have had a bad day, I conclude and let the train of thoughts squelch away.

The cumulonimbus of clouds hangs dangerously low and is minutes away from dropping. Everyone, motorists included, is in a rush to escape the clouds. Screeching brakes punctuate the eerie silence as motorists and pedestrians pave way for each other. A dangerous co-existence I would say. Audible sighs of relief occasionally add to the symphony after narrow escapes of collisions. Either the motorist or the pedestrians stop a few inches if not centimetres from each other and all it would need is a loose breaking pedal and that would be it.

I wait for the vehicular traffic to slow down and carefully start to cross the road. I am almost done when I catch a glimpse of red light flash before my eyes. A deafening squealing of brakes and a strong smell of burning rubber predominate.
What follows is a loud sound of silence.

****

Hello my lovely friends 😊

What do you think happened? 🤔

I have some good news, you meet Faith daktari next week, on Tuesday 🥳💥 of course with a very interesting story 💯

If you enjoyed today’s post, comment, like and share with a friend🤗

Stay safe❤

^Faith