She sat on his lap knees bent and clasped around his thighs like a bird with its wings folded. But her squat was lose enough so as not to hamper her movement up and down, around and around. I stared at them in disbelief as a handful of soccer players emerged out of the parking lot. "Hey dudes, check out those two making out," their voices cracked in collective boy-man giggles, as they proceeded through the gates to the soccer field. It was a few minutes to two on the first sunny Sunday afternoon after Snowmageddon , perfect weather for the season-opening scrimmage between the junior varsity and varsity boys. I turned back to the trunk of my car, preoccupied by the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation the two were now engaged in. I tossed my handbag and sweater into the trunk and headed through the gates to the field. They were seated at the rear of the stadium on the raised ledge of the back wall, in plain view through the wide railings. A disturbance in my mind that hampered m
Showing posts from 2014
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Ever present in my mind is that I cannot reasonably measure the dimension of the time in which I got to know her. In retrospect, the three months feel like forever. Because she was an impact player. I joined the team, she passed the ball, trusting and expecting execution. She was a leader who subscribed to the excellence that resides in all. The force of her buoyant spirit is fixed in my memory. In appreciation of a coworker who recently passed away to cancer. Siku Njema, Mama Shujaa.
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Been back home for a solid 14 days give or take and it has been thick - different - wonderful. I say the difference is not just in the lovely weather. It is in the dust and fumes blowing diesel into the already polluted air. The difference is not just in the time some people take to look in your eyes, grab your hand, shake it and say 'habari yako'. Holding your gaze with eyes reddened by the dust and fumes. It is in the hope and prayer that you are truly fine when you respond, 'mzuri sana.' The difference is in what I can feel through the hardened shell of my psyche that has withstood the test of time in America. The difference is in a growing consciousness of a culture that still practices compassion (even with the growing materialism) towards others. There is still so much Human Touch left....