When the echoes from a past of a decade beats on our eardrums, full of pleasantness – or rather unpleasantness, what does it do to us?
The children are wearing blue and white shirts
And khaki shorts and they are singing
“I am trusting thee lord Jesus
Trusting only thee
Trusting thee for full salvation
Great and free“
And marching into their classrooms
Like a decade ago, when I was only a decade old. when on my way to school, passing in front of their building, as I am doing now, I would hear them sing same and
I sing along.
The huge tree still stands there
Across the park, about 400 meters away from the classrooms
Not dead- still green and fresh
With its huge back and very very huge roots
A decade ago, I was very afraid of the tree and whenever we got close, my friends would push me hardly towards it. I would cry and they would laugh. Now a decade older, I am no more afraid. I am sitting on the tree’s roots, relaxed and laughing at my past fears.
And now, sitting under the tree is
She looks like the clock has not been ticking for her
Not young but certainly same
Same look, same frown, same attitude.
Even now I feel a bit afraid of her
She stairs as though she remembers me
Yet I’m sure age isn’t doing her much good
But I remember
A decade ago, she sat at the very same spot, scolding us for not greeting her whiles we passed very early in thewould throw the sharpeners and erasers at us when we said we preferred the other colour. she would seize the little boys’ ball that missed its way unto her table and slap the daring boy that came to get it. When she came
Close we ran.
The fresh bread joint across Maame Djata’s base…
I can still smell the very same aroma- no additions, no subtractions.
How does she do it?
My friends and I would buy it early in the morning when going to school and at dusk when returning home.
I can still see the yellow marina butter
Melting on the white baked flour
With the rising vapour
And oh, the taste…
Now a decade beyond, the taste is still the same. The butter melts the same.
The familiar novelty; like the freshness of air that blows at you from a place you’ve known too well.
When the echoes from the past of a decade beats on our eardrums, full of pleasantness- or unpleasantness? What does it do to us? We smile. Invariably we smile. For memories become but a dream and so do all unpleasantness in the distant past.