Pages of a Journal #2

It is not that i do not love your people. I love you. Them, it seems i will need some more time to learn. But the past few months will make the first few months harder. Forgive me when i will not want to visit them so soon. I ask now, forgive me.

Maybe it is because i am wrung to the bone. I knew it would be quite a process. What i did not know was that four visits later my people would still be knocking at your fathers’ door. I ask when they will open, you say you do not know. Can’t the voice of a child’s question draw response? Sometimes i wonder if you’re voice was heard at all.

There will be the white wedding. If i have heard correctly, your people will all be there, they are very exited about it all. We, sorry, i – will be bringing them to see their daughter off. They even had a cost budget drawn up and everything. Good of them to save us the trouble.

I don’t know how, but you’re fathers’ unfinished house was part of the discussion the last two times. My uncles do not understand what i have to do its completion. But we are still outside looking in. We would not even think to ask.

We will marry. Of that i am sure. Also, we will we broke. Please do not think that the first days will set pace for the rest. The fields will be greener along the way.

I have just a message from the guy getting your dress and the suits. I have to go pray for a miracle.

I love you. Talk to your people my love, then maybe when mine will speak they will listen. Sweep the leaves from our path. Bring us water to drink. We are still walking. But we are getting weary.

© Ang’asa Malowa

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s