BITTERNESS LEFT A MARK ON HIS FACE
On a very early
Saturday morning, my brother, mum and I were in our milling shop when a little
boy of about 11 years of age brought a bag of corn to be milled. The boy is a beggar.
When I saw that his face tied a wrapper of pain, I thought it was the pain of
an empty stomach. I looked deeper but it
was as if something was biting him slowly, it was as if he has lost everything
in life and the afterlife world he
thinks has nothing to offer him, his face depicts that he has decided to just
live a life of nothingness, a life of a human always in need. I asked if he was
okay and he said he was and asked insistently but my brother asked me to leave
the boy be, that bitterness has left a permanent mark on his face. My mum noticed
that I didn’t believe what my brother said the nature of the boy’s face so she
asked me to get him food before his work is done. I got him more than enough
food (he couldn’t finish it). He ate to his satisfaction but the wrapper of
pain was still very much visible on his face. Even when he smiled and thanked
my mother for the food. The smile was
more of a smile for need, a smile in pain, a smile to take off bitterness but
the refusal of life to give him sweetness.
Little children are exposed to the outside world, the cruel
dimension of life at very tender ages
especially in Africa. If a boy of just eleven has a mark of depression as a
permanent expression, what is going to become of him when he comes of age. Who really should we blame for this? The parents?
For letting their little ones go out in search of what life refuses to offer or
what it has to offer. The government? For not providing for every citizen in
the nation? Are these little helpless but strong beings destined to be in the
streets to suffer. There are these group of people that are not necessarily in
the government but they have the power to help and make children great people
I cant forget that
face, the eyes that glares at pain, the creases of hopelessness between his
eyebrows, the forced smile. How can I forget that I saw a boy that bitterness
has taken possession of his face.
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