Have you ever wondered how lovers seem to know what their partner is thinking? How they seem to become like-minds? An evidence they were in love. I’m responsible for that, my specialty is with couples in love. I’m the little bird that whispers lovers’ thoughts to and fro.
February 14, 2016 Melbourne, Australia 20:48 GMT
Harry, his heartsong I long couldn’t feel the vibe, but Kate’s the strings I hung onto.
A kind of love that made me imbalanced, I could read her thoughts, I knew her fears. Its no surprise Kate didn’t seem to know her lover’s mind anymore. So, when the Limousine parked in the front of the Melbourne Recital Centre, and Harry took a long look at Kate, she wondered what she had done again. Why his temper was so short towards her? It had been since a long time. It was the day I left his heart, the day he cheated on her and eventually denied it when she had confronted him.
He kept his gaze on her, I wished his facial muscles were legends she could read through.
“What have I done wrong again?”
“Don’t ask me stupid question-”
“I have the right to know!”
“Just stop there!”
And he slapped her with the back of his hand.
In the silence that ensued between them I found my wings, from Kate’s heart. I flew high and landed on a Bunya Bunya tree nearby. The hatred that had suddenly built in Kate was like a torrent of flood that had pushed me out. I could have died in there. I looked down at the couple as they stepped down from the Limousine hand-in-hand, flashed their best smiles to the cameras and made their way to the red carpet. Amidst the glamour, its so sad I lost a home. As I flew away looking for my next harbor, I couldn’t take my mind off the plan Kate had for Harry. Something she initially didn’t give a second thought to when Mara, her younger sister, had suggested she taught Harry a lesson- one he wouldn’t live to learn from. Even the horrifying detail of their plot could clip my wings and I deared not imagined nor let it bothered me anymore. High away, up in the Australian sky I flew, my next destination, Paris- France.
“If I soared higher and flapped my wings faster, I could get to the Eiffel tower on time, there I will find real couples, truly in love- and find a new home for my self.”
I should have passed through the beautiful, blue pacific ocean, and I would have moved with the direction of the earth, but in my hurry I hadn’t thought twice. I had to fly against it, and it seemed to me I was defying some natural laws, and then I knew turning back the hand of time would bring along something I wasn’t prepared for; my wings were performing magic- turning night to day.
I had to pass through the Indian Ocean and endured the polluted air of the Middle East; the war in Syria had made creatures of my kind endangered species.
Missile sound echoed through the sky. It’s waves split condensed water particles that formed the clouds and made the setting orange sun to tremble. The clouds below became darkened out, blotting away any hope of that part of the world. I remembered my kind that still stayed put there, believing there were hearts they could still fill. Well, for me a world where even children became suicide bombers was a NO. No hope for love. I whistled MJ’s “Heal the World” as I breezed away from the sour and scar of a hopeless ‘airscape’
As I reached the meridian, just about turning north in order to align approximately with 48°N and 2°E latitude and longitude coordinates of Paris, I saw a flock of birds flying down south, I wondered what could have caught the fansy of such beautiful birds. Since they were neither Crows nor Vultures, I decided to follow suite.
They headed for Africa and my heart skipped. I could have turned back but I kept following. What business has my kind have with little brainless birds who live only for the now and with only crude instinct. The hot, dry, dust-laden air from the Sahara almost made me lose sight of the little birds before me.
Before I could gather my thoughts, which were as scattered as the greens of the semi-desert below, I was in Nigeria, the North-Eastern part- Borno State in a village called Baga, with low plain that grades into the basin of Lake Chad. A dusty arid lifeless mass of land, with scattered trees afraid of fellowship. The dry air from the harmattan and cold blew danger to my senses. I flew down on top of a Cashew tree. I kept turning my head in search of Crows and Vultures.
What I saw forever changed my course.
Two big, brown eyes fixed in an oversized head, with a barren scalp that radiated the harshness of the afternoon sun were fixated on me.
I wondered if he had seen me. There was something about this boy. And as I made a descent into his little heart I was surprised at how large it was.
Adamu was staring at the Cashew tree thinking of how to pluck some for the poor boy.
“Poor boy? Boy? What kind of love is this? What does this little boy know about love after all, and…boy?”
the Cashew dropped on his hairless head, and he smiled. He picked it up and ran to where he saw the lonely, poor boy: the crippled boy!
Adamu gave him the cashew to eat and the boy looked up at him with his hollow eyes before finally taking it.
“Mai sunanka?” Adamu asked.
The boy just kept munching on Cashew flesh.
“Sunana Adamu” he tried again hoping the boy will respond this time.
A spider was crawling up the poor boy’s right ear, making a way into the inner bowl, Adamu tucked his hands into it and flipped away the crippling creature.
I didn’t stop there!
I entered through the funnel of the poor boy’s ear and down to the ossicles…
The boy was deaf! And could not speak too.
“I don’t do this ” I thought to myself. “I need two lovers, a man and a woman.”
That, however, didn’t stop me from reaching through his heart. It was the cleanest heart I had ever surveyed. Then I realized, just like me, he needed a home.
The crippled boy wondered why this boy showed him such kindness. He’s not hungry though, but he doesn’t want to look rude which is why he had to collect the cashew from him. His pity seems misplaced. He had crawled all the way from his village, which was raided by the men who killed for reasons he knew not. He had only seen people running helter skelter, while returning from the farm, carried by his father’s cart tied to two cows. When he realized the cows couldn’t carry him as fast as he wanted and when he saw the bloody mess was scaring the hell out of the herbivores, he jumped down from the cart and landed on his crippled limbs. He waded his way through the bush with his long arms, propped on his bare palms, now oozing with sores from cuts. He was tired and been in the bush for two days, and all he wanted was a place to call home again.
I could see the confusion that plastered Adamu’s face as the boy threw away the cashew, which still had some flesh in it, not typical of someone hungry. I brooded on how to make them understand each other, I wanted Adamu to know the need of the deaf and dumb boy. Had I not intervened, Adamu would have given up on the boy and took him for an evil spirit, or a spy for Book Haram.
An idea came to mind.
The poor boy heaped a mass of cold sand on his right foot, beat it gently with his sore palms and slowly pulled out his legs- he had built a sand castle. He looked around for the spider, he picked it up, flashed a smile, revealing a yellowish set of teeth, and guided the insect into the castle.
For a man that was willing to help, for a heart that was ready to love- that message was clear enough.
Adamu carried the boy on his back, a long journey to his new home. The boy’s sore hands gripping Adamu’s shoulders, sending a stench that crawled into his nostrils.
Who will think on this long day, 14th of February, I will be spending my day doing something different from what I thought I was born to do.
Kate broke my heart, but I found solace here.
There is a beauty that the harmattan paints on the desert landscape afterall.