Amina…..

And as we drove by the bridges,

I couldn’t stop looking at the beggarson the streets  popularly known as “almajiris”……

they were just too many that I could notice the smallest of them all………

i asked the driver to stop ,but he answered saying “Madame I no fit pack for here,dem they toll motor  for here”.

Little did he know what my intentions were…………

I got home at half past eight…….At that time Peter still hadn’t called.

Peter? That name ………

The name that never left my lips when we were  still together.

I decided not to get worried……so I went upstairs to have a warm bathe,

that sweet smell of lavender……

What do u think it is? I asked my self

Another voice replied me from my conscience………..

It sounded a name……….

“AMINAaaaaaa”

“Who the hell is Amina? “Another voice asked….

Then it dawned on me that i didn’t stop to interrogate the smallest of the almajiris….

Tears rolling down my cheek

I could hear “Amina’s whispers

“You were supposed to be my helper”…………..

#sylviaDaily