Copy and Pasted from Seth Odongo
My friend Odhys Wuod Chioma Nyarnaijah has seen it all.
He invested.
He built a good house for himself at a time many of his peers live in rentals, with no abode of their own.
For all his hard work, sweat and toil, jealous uncles (his late father’s brothers) who all along had wanted to dispossess him of a family inheritance set the house on fire, reducing his hopes to dust and charred wood, rusted nails and emotional wreckage.
His mother died while he was barely a week old. He grew up with no luxury of a mother’s warmth, and missed; as a consequence of her death, the solidarity of querulous siblings who would have been born after him.
The father too died, months later, perhaps, to go re-unite down there with the one woman he had loved, and brought home from Uganda.
Yet Odhys endured, and entered adulthood as a young responsible man.
He had purchased some cows and goats and sheep. Those too were cruelly hacked to death.
While he was rising, a woman had loved him, so he thought, and loved back. When life’s tempest begun to rage, the woman, like in that biblical story of job; has this morning told him unequivocally that she’s gone because she can’t see a ‘future’ in him.
In the circumstances Odhys finds himself, it takes hope to be alive, and luck to be on his feet again.
We are reminded that here on earth still resides wicked people, including wicked women.
The Ex-Wife
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The house humble abode
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Dreams Burning
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The Dumping
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