E sinam rolled onto her left side and fluttered her lashes. She laid quietly with her eyes open, staring blankly at the lower part of the wall, coated in bright orange oil paint.
The backdrop of the podium was brightly
lit. Equally, she was an enchantment to watch, standing in her long faded pink flowery
dress, her short kinky hair revealed the arches of her soft face to standout. As
she smiled, tears glassed her eyes and the audience rose, beating their palms.
She was trying not to blink because tears would run down her cheeks. But importantly, looking at the happy men and women beating their palms for her, she finally believed in miracles.
Apologize to her,” Kwaku screamed at the young man, strangling him at the colour of his shirt.
Some passerby’s looked on and others beat the young man too, calling him thief, “apologize to her” Kwaku ordered again but the young man wouldn’t speak, looking distraught and dirty, his head bent to avoid more slaps from finding his face.
Hello. My name is Isaac. A Journalist and Literary Blogger living in Ghana. This is my blog where I publish my feature articles, creative writing and links to my podcasts. Subscribe today and receive all updates!
