At the sound of rumbling, I hastened my steps along the track road leading to my house. I looked upwards, the sky was dark and ominous. The storm was pulsating, about to break loose; the way my anger was threatening to burst to the surface.
I looked searchingly around, there was no shelter in sight. All around me were trees, farmlands and open spaces, no house, not even a thatched roof of a hut could be seen. It was just me, the wild, the elements, and then the sadness and emptiness in my soul.
The bush was alive with sounds, animals scurrying to their different abode, away from the impending storm. I heard hooting, bleating and screeching as each animal send out warnings to one another and to their younger ones to make hast. Had I but received such warning, a hint maybe, or even a sign, the pain could have be bearable.
The thunder roared again, the sound of an angry warlord’s talking drum; sending out massage of impending catastrophe. I broke into a trot, not so much as to get out of the rain;s way, rather to get across the little stream which swells into a river each time it rains. The irony of life. I was raging against been alive, yet I was concern about being swept by flood.
I crossed the stream successfully before the first pelt of rain hit me; I took off in a run this time. As my feet trod hard on the ground, dust rose, I inhaled deeply as fresh smell of earth filtered to my nostril. Dust of the earth, that’s what we all become at the end of life. what a twist and what nothingness to all our struggles, our acquisitions.
I ran as swiftly as I could but I couldn’t outrun the rain, I was caught in it. “What;s the hell.” I muttered as I slowed down. In life, there are things you cannot outrun, outsmart or outgrown. It doesn’t make sense to fight that which was supposed to be.
The rain came, fast and hard; it slashed my body like wipes from the gods, how much pains and agonies could a man’s soul endure? I wished the rain could drench more than my body, I wished it could go deep down to my soul, to wash away the pains, the sorrows and the dark thoughts hidden there, beyond the grasp of another mortal.
I clenched and unclenched my fists as the anger swelled and expanded my chest to near explosion. I was caught in another storm; fiercer and heavier than the one raging around me. involuntarily I shivered, not from the cold but from the intensity of the emotions rocking my soul.
I felt like screaming, howling at the lightening, at the thunder, at the rain; even at the gods. Yes at the gods for looking on, so unconcerned at my torment.
Suddenly, I stopped, raised my hands in supplication to the mighty one above,THE CREATOR of the universe, for help. The tears seeped out, but to be washed away instantly by the rain. “Why?” I murmured. “Why, why, why, why, why, why?” I repeated over and over until it became a mantra.
Lightening flashed, thunder roared again and again but they held no answer to my question. All I heard was the pelting of the rain, it was frustrating, it was maddening, so my anger burst loose. “Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?” it was a scream from an agonizing heart.
Can somebody tell me why life is full of storms?