WHEN IT RAINS --by Rose

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This rain that falls on aluminum roofs also falls on thatched roofs, it fills the buckets and also calabashes, it spills and overflows and we are soaked in its blessings. Many hearts are excited when black clouds gather, at least one can sleep peacefully in its cool bliss for hours without tossing and turning and cursing the heat. When it rains at night, lovers are unusually excited, but soon the rains turn to a curse, depending.

As the water splashes on the earth crust and the fragrance of dry sand mixed with rain, my senses go wild and I’m being plunged to nostalgia. Those days we were locked inside the house, and the thunder would scare us a little and we will hide behind the flying curtains; it was really beautiful. Then one of us would recall our favorite rain rhyme:

                              “Rain, rain go away, little children want to play”

But we lied; in fact, the rhyme lied, did we really want to play? Or we wanted to bath in the rain?

The latter was very true; when mother could not be sighted we sneaked out of the house and jumped in the rain, oh! What righteous pleasure!

When it rains, it’s a blessing to some and curse to others; to the expectant farmers, it marks the beginning of production and to the man taking shade in a shop, watching as the rains get heavier while losing hope on getting home on time, it’s a curse.

When it rains, you see the incompetent works evident on potholed roads as they become flooded with water and gutters turning to rivers. When it rains, many things float; baby diapers, plastic bottles and black polythene bags.

When it rains, we sink into our thoughts, and loneliness may come to play as many fall asleep in the arms of sweet rain. When it rains the lightening follows and the thunder sounds, but whether you think it a curse or a gift, when it rains, everything is at rest, at peace; when it rains, it is beautiful.