One hour after closing , IK wasn’t back yet. Florence was beside herself with worry. She couldn’t keep herself calm as she paced the small confines of her roadside shop. Florence rubbed one sweaty palm nervously against the other as her eyes remained glued to the road, scanning every commercial bus that rolled by for her son. He should be back by now!Florence came out of her shop, avoiding the small puddle of water on the floor – an aftermath of the downpour of rain barely an hour ago - and walked a few steps to the shop directly beside hers to check the time for pr

Florence stood at the door of the hospital ward as tears streamed down her face. Her lips shook wildly and she made no effort to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks. She walked slowly into the room, staring at the hospital bed, just a few steps away. Her bloodshot eyes were blind to the two other occupants of the room, as she walked like a zombie towards the bed that held her interest. She got to the bed and stared through streaming eyes at the frail form of her son lying on the bed, unconscious. She ran her eyes over his pale innocent face as tears made a fast trek down her hot cheeks. No! She couldn’t accept this. Never in her wildest dreams and nightmares did she even imagine that her son would be a candidate of an hospital ward, looking like a complete shadow of himself. Leukemia… Cancer of the blood… The doctor’s words echoed in her ears, causing her chest to squeeze

“C’mon, give mummy a smile” Florence muttered with a weak smile on her face. We’ll be back very soon, I promise” Florence murmured as she crouched before her kids. Pastor Peter and his wife stood behind the children. Their small travelling bags and school bags had been carried inside but still, the children were not smiling. Solomon looked on the verge of tears. Barely two years old, Solomon was too small to be left alone. Visha stared mutely at the ground, while Sandra had a deceptive calm look on her face. Her pride wouldn’t allow her show just how much this was affecting her; somehow, that was more heartbreaking than even Solomon’s tears.

The days slowly rolled by. There were long days, longer nights. Less smiles, more tears. Less calm, more turmoil… Florence was always on the run, moving from one ward to another, not resting until IK was attended to. She shunned that screaming voice in her head; the one that repeated consistently that IK wasn’t going to make it. Together, they built their faith. Chike’s faith was high, Florence’s faith was higher. The struggles helped to reinforce her faith; ‘God couldn’t watch them go through this immense struggle and still allow IK to die’. She told herself repeatedly.Florence told herself this as she watched one pack of blood go empty, only to be replaced with another. Florence told herself this when IK had the hair on head shaved completely. Florence told herself this when IK’s weakne

Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, hours to days, and days to weeks… Sandra knew the sound of silence. It is the loud echo of nothingness which deafens the ears even when there are voices all around. There was a stabbing pain in her little heart that wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard she tried. She should have talked to him when she had the chance. She should have told him how much he meant to her; definitely should have told him that she loved him so much. She should have been there, been there with him in the hospital, holding his hand as he grabbed ferociously onto the reins keeping him alive. She should have been the cord that held him together; she should have been his anchor… like he had been to her, her whole life.