You have heard the saying that a picture is worth a thousand words. It is used so frequently now that we accept it as a basic truth. It is almost a statement of fact like: The world is round. My own understanding is a simple one; that a picture can tell a story far better than a whole load of descriptive text.
This post is about a picture. You may have seen this picture, read about it or even seen a video about the events of the day that the picture was taken. To avoid issues of copyright I cannot post it here but nothing says I cannot tell you what has happened since. In any event you have the picture imprinted in your mind.
You may recall how a few weeks ago a well known politician was enjoying a lovely dance with his supporters when a man in the crowd got up waving a kiboko. The disciplinarian villager whacked the leader a couple of times before security personnel could restrain him. Nobody was seriously hurt during the bizarre drama and as it happened the incident made great news as a comedy piece drawing hilarious comments on social media.
The political leader graciously forgave his cane attacker asking for all charges against him to be dropped and the matter was soon forgotten. Or was it?
The man with the cane incident was like a small pebble that is thrown into a quiet pool. Ripple waves spread out in all directions from the centre touching the lives of many people in a way that nobody would ever have imagined.
to be continued
Every lie is two lies — the lie we tell others and the lie we tell ourselves to justify it. ~Robert Brault
It was all settled. I would be staying for supper. It was a situation which, when I thought about it, was most excellent; Rubina was said to be a wonderful hostess and her house was warm and comfortable on this cold and miserable evening. I felt honoured to be asked to stay and I was also a little curious to find out what the evening ahead would reveal. I made myself useful and helped with final preparations, tidying up the sitting room while Rubina laid the table. Continue reading
It was twenty-past ten when I finally got to the office on a cold, wet morning after the night before. What a night it had been. I was still trying to get my head around what I had learned from Rubina. Babu was standing at the office reception and he did his usual annoying thing of looking at his watch when he saw me. Continue reading
These days he drank his tea from a green plastic cornflakes bowl. Every morning he would place a teabag in the bowl and throw in a measure of sugar. He then poured water from the hot tap into the bowl. When he had milk he would put that in too. He held the bowl in both hands, like a beggar and drank the tea in one long draught. Continue reading
The Friday evening with Rubina was totally awesome. Can awesome be an understatement. We had a great, wonderfully fantastic time. I use a load of adjectives but frankly it is difficult to describe that enchanted evening in words.
That was the night when I believed I had finally cracked it. I had found the secret to happiness at last. Later on, that same night my ship of optimism and expectation would crash against the black rocks sending my lifeless dreams down to the bottom of the sea. Continue reading