Time to Write

I have a few stories lined up, ready to be drafted properly and rewritten.

Like a tortoise I am writing and inching towards a manuscript or two. Whenever I have time to write many other writing pieces pull me. I actually have a schedule for writing my stories and interestingly other pieces seem to have more power and drag me away from it. Thoughts of my stories are always lingering and sometimes bothers me as I have a timeline but I’m not sure when I’ll get to the finishing line.

This evening, I thought of a new scene and will take the opportunity to write it here;

Trotting towards the mango tree, Ama and her three cronies skipped, clapping towards their daily after school meeting place.

” Pa pa papa be ba, pa pa be ba,” they sang in unison.

This was not only because they were excited but it is also a signal of their time together. It had become part of their routine, for the neighborhood adults to be aware of their arrival.

It was Nuna’s turn to choose the first game. She had a plan. She wanted Ama to win, as she had not won any game for a while. Calling the name of the members of the team, she drew Ama to her. They were planning to play a game of Ampe, when Ama suddenly heard her mother call.

“Ama bra ha!” her mother’s voice was very faint and distant.

Maame whimpered, “Ama, Ama come home now! “

Ama seemed surprised as she had left Maame cooking the evening meal. Maame did not mind Ama playing with her friends under the mango tree, there was enough shade and space for them to run around. When Ama run hurriedly, barefoot into their tiny cottage she found Maame crouched on the kitchen floor.

“Maame what’s wrong? Did you fall? How can I help?”

Ama tried to drag her up, but Maame is a heavily built woman. Ama tripped backwards, trying to help. Should I ask for help? Ama thought. She did not even wait for to answer herself and darted out to call her three friends.

“Come in all of you, hurry please, Maame has had a fall,” Ama sobbed.

They all looked frightened but rushed towards Ama and quickly found their way to the kitchen, where they found Maame bent over.

She could not lift herself up.

They held each of her hands and legs and pulled her up. Maame, with her eyes shut asked them in her feeble voice to run and call Papa from his carpentry shop. Before Ama turned Nuna and her other friends were speeding to call Papa.

They shouted,” Ama, Papa will be here soon,” and were away.

Ama quickly poured Maame some water and prayed silently for Papa to get back quickly.

Just when Ama decided to sponge Maame down, Papa entered panting and sweating profusely. With his muscular arms, he helped Maame up and asked for help from his apprentice, who had tip toed behind him to the house. Papa rushed Maame to the village clinic which was a few streets away.

Ama had tears in her eyes but was glad Maame was being taken away, to be examined by Mr. Kobo, the elderly doctor, the only doctor in the village.

Ama had many questions and always worried about how hard Maame works. This has got to be a new beginning, she was planning to encourage Maame when she felt better, to come with her to see Grandma in the neighboring village, during the school holidays.

Ama sat, chin in hand, watching her friends play, whilst she waited to hear from Papa.

She knew Maame would be well. She just believed that.

3 thoughts on “Time to Write

  1. “She could not lift herself up.” This paragraph literally and figuratively stands out J, what an excellent piece of writing. You weave a tale that completely hooks me in and paints a vivid picture. I can’t wait to read the next chapter!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. What a wonderful scene. I love how I learn the language of your culture as I read. And since I have heard you talk, this voice is so authentic.

    Liked by 1 person

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 )

Connecting to %s