Michael Ogumbe

Kenya

Deja Vu

“No matter what, mum, promise you won’t let go, I am certain help is on its way…” Mwangi pleaded. “It is over, my son, it is over. Promise me one thing, though: You won’t change. Even on this day, when I am leaving you,” his mother replied. “No! Don’t say that, I won’t let go, promise you won’t either,” Mwangi continues. Her mum cries in bitterness as she tries convincing her son to let go of her arm, so that she would fall into the borehole pit. Mwangi tries hard not to, but after a while his hands become weak, and he lets go. He shouts in agony as he watches his mum go down the pit.

He quickly wakes. He has been dreaming, a bad dream. He looks at the wall clock to see it is twenty-five minutes past four in the morning. Loud music from a nearby manga is still playing. It was the music that had made him not concentrate on his study that day. He removes his legs from the basin of water on the floor. He does not feel the coldness of the water any longer. He stares at the bed where his mother is lying and sees her fast asleep, snoring like a baby.

He understands he has only one and a half an hour to rest before he prepares for school. He eventually gets tired and rests in a prostrate position.