THE SCREAMING AND THE DARKNESS (PART 2)

[ Read Previous Parts here>> ‪THE SCREAMING AND THE DARKNESS PART1 ]

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I get the telephone and dial a number. When I hear a lively "hey you" from the flip side, I say in a tranquil voice that will get to be imposing in a moment "Would you say you are home? Would I be able to come?" He says beyond any doubt and I go out. I hail a bicycle and mount it. All of a sudden I endure a sharp consciousness of my surroundings. I see the lanes as I have never seen them, in stark help. The poor people, the peddlers, minute points of interest such as the tear in the right sleeve of a cop's uniform and the way he appears to be indeterminate regardless of whether the battle between two agberos (gangsters) close-by falls inside of the extent of his obligations.

THE SCREAMING AND THE DARKNESS PART 1

It is a cool harmattan morning. The air is energetic and I don't know how I will endure through the cold water however I don't have a decision. I can't warm water since I've come shot of kerosene. I wrap my most loved Bugz themed towel over my little breasts. I get my bathroom things—cleanser, a wipe, face wash, female wash and a pail of water I'd drawn from the well before and head to the open air washroom I impart to my neighbors. I climb three shaky steps paving the way to a well used, climate beaten entryway which I close immovably behind me and wrap the towel on a clothesline attached over the way to conceal far from prying eyes. I turn my back to the pit toilet and hold my breath in delays until I get used to the upsetting odor.