The Rain maker is at the village square,
he is out there sweating profusely. Our people are on his neck,
and the children are starving before him.

Drought is here again, another menace hunting us so eminently.
Hope has gone as far as we are concerned, Hope is long gone, far away from us he has gone.
But Hunger and Pain is still with us, they promise to stay for the time been.

The Rain maker is frustrated,
for the rain isn't coming.
He looks up to the clouds but there is no answer. "The gods have forsaken us, he said at last". We have made them angry, this is our punishment for what we have done.

We lay down on our flattened bellies waiting for the time our ancestors will come and take our miserable souls away from the cursed land.

We begged for death to come quickly to our aid, we need it more than ever now.

Hunger showed us the best of what it has to offer and we swam in it's reckless pool of agony and torment.

Our children cried endlessly to our hearing.
Soon their cries becomes a cliché and a soothing melody to our dying mood.

Nothing good seemes to work, nothing else is meaningful. Only our slow breathing kept us company.

Like a dream we saw what we had long be waiting for.
Drops of hope falls from the sky above.
Could this be real?
We asked ourselves.
Could we be dreaming?
We said afterwards.
Huge rain drops fell from the sky unto our pale and exhausted face.
With our dying breath we began to pray to the gods again thanking them for their mercy upon us.
We are saved again, we said.

We will drink again and till the earth for food one more time.

Out of no where came the Rain maker,
Bragging to save the day with his songs of praises to the gods.

We took no notice of him for we are delighted to see the rain once again.

Will Hope stay this time?
Or with it leave like before?
This questions remained in our hearts and minds as we carried on in our endless struggle for survival .



© sabihenro