Mr William Mwabili, was a father driven by unwavering commitment to provide for his family. Weathered by the storms of life his shoulders bore the weight of responsibility. There was an aura of strength that emanated from his towering figure with broad shoulders. His piercing gaze held a hint of intensity as he shouted to the new maid, "What do you mean breakfast is not ready? My daughters and I cannot be late for prayers." The new maid, Aisha, shivered and ran to the kitchen.
Admired by many, despite the fear he installed in others, he was a mentor. His neighbours and colleagues at work admired him for the work he undertook. Whispers turned in admiration at his ability to face challenges. His wife's death however had cast a shadow of undeniable length on him. In the darkness of the night, he wrestled with the darkness that lingered his thoughts. His eyes which once expressed strength and resilience were cold from emotion.
As Angel sat next to her father on the dining table, she sensed the cold aura emanating from him. Her father held the Bible in his hand, "let us read the Bible because your aunt might be late." Her father was reading from Mathew chapter five but a certain verse stood out for her, "You have heard that it was said to those of old, 'You shall not murder and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.' But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment."
As her father's words echoed in the room, Angel wondered if her father took any time to understand the words he was reading. As he turned the pages, she could not shake the awareness that the same hands holding the Holy Book were stained with her mother's blood. The similar words, meant to bring solace and guidance, became a haunting melody in her ears. Tears threatened to escape her eyes when her father finished his long sermon by saying, "We should love one another."
When Aisha served them breakfast, Angel struggled to keep food in her thoughts. She played with the tip of cup and allowed her mind to drift way into the empty space. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. She quickly stood to open it but was interrupted by her father. "Allow me..."
Mr Mwabili quickly rushed to the door. He hesitated to open and when he opened, he peeped slowly. There was no one. A letter lay by the floor. He reached down to take it and then anxiously opened it. It read;
Dear Mr. William Mwabili,
We are pleased to inform you that your application for a position at the United Nations has been successful. Your qualifications and experience have set you apart and we believe that your skills will contribute significantly to our efforts in addressing the pressing challenges caused by the recent internet shutdown in various parts of the country.
The current situation has led to critical issues such as food shortages and limited access to medical attention. The demand for skilled individuals like yourself has become crucial in mitigating these challenges. Your role will play a vital part in our ongoing initiatives to provide immediate relief and long-term solutions to the affected communities.
Mr William was too happy to continue reading. He jumped with joy like a young boy and shouted," I made it, at last I made it." At last, the cold man was showing a hope of redemption. The news few days the house was filled with celebration. Mr. Mwabili spread the exciting news to all the neighbours were invited for a thanks giving party. The women who were most of the attendees sat and whispered as they peeled from a bag of potatoes.
"Mr. Mwabili now that he will be busy most of the time, needs someone to take care of the children especially the last born," one of the women said.
In the women's chatter, Lucy, Mr. William's immediate neighbour could not resist sharing her share of the gossip. Filled with excitement, she fed the other women with tales of how Mr. Mwabili had been casting affectionate glances her way. Her words, with a bragging tone, painted a picture of a romantic interest that had caught her in its irresistible web. As she spoke, the other women exchanged glances. Many who always wished those affectionate glances from Mr Mwabili to come their way listened with curiosity and struggled to laugh with the rest of the group. Little did Lucy realize that her boasting had ignited a series of whispers among the town's ladies. Each interpreted Mr. Mwabili's supposed affections in their own imagination. Mr. Mwabili's compound was filled with celebration. The smell of 'nyama choma' filled the air tempting all form near and far to join in celebration.
The slow beats of Swahili Bango were accompanied with laughter and cheerful chatter. Children ran around and danced to the music. Their mothers occasionally chased them away when they went near the kitchen. The men sited by the shed of the big house sat in a circle and shared a bottle of wine. As the sun began to descent the neighbours gathered and danced together. Mr Mwabili raised a toast and thanked the neighbours for their support. He promised them that he was ready to serve the community with his new job. After a prayer, dishes filled with pilau, nyama choma, ugali, chapati and stew were placed on the table for people to serve. Everyone was invited to enjoy the flavours of Mr. Mwabili's household.
The party was not just a celebration of Mr. Mwabili' s success but a collective acknowledgement of shared dreams and aspirations. Mr Mwabili's opportunity became a reason for the community to come together, to rejoice and to reaffirm the bonds that connected them all. Amidst all this Angel found it hard to share the joy, the darkness that she had been pushing down for so long now threatened to explode. As everyone danced and rejoiced, she retreated to her room.