GREEN CARD: Desmond and Dianah’s story

My name is Desmond and I love February! Sometimes I think it’s because I was born in this month but I believe it’s the ‘month of LOVE’ and there is ‘no comment’ to this.   I was on holiday in Kenya, but honestly, it wasn’t such a great holiday—it was a punishment. I had finished high school and the exam stress was slowly wadding off.

My name is Desmond and I love February! Sometimes I think it’s because I was born in this month but I believe it’s the ‘month of LOVE’ and there is ‘no comment’ to this.
  
I was on holiday in Kenya, but honestly, it wasn’t such a great holiday—it was a punishment. I had finished high school and the exam stress was slowly wadding off.

The first thing on my mind was ‘FUN’. I had a crew of age mates. We used to hustle and get money to booze because most of my hommies had rich folks and we took drugs too.

I had become a mess but I just didn’t know how to get myself out of it. The pressure was high and somehow I always seemed to be the leader of the crew—so quitting was no option. Mum and dad had divorced when I was in primary six, but this didn’t mean I was denied access to any of them.

I had spent four years without checking on mum in Kenya since she had remarried.

Most of my life was spent with dad before he decided to send me off to Kenya.

This was to help me change my ways. I was furious but when it comes to dads…you watch out because you might be whipped. Anyway, I missed my mum.

My mum was very glad to see me and so was her new family was. I felt really loved and the whole ‘gangster feeling’ diminished. Two days later, mum sat with me in the gardens. They were filled with beautiful flowers and singing birds. She spoke words of wisdom straight from her heart and I was deeply moved.

She believed in me and loved me for two weeks. I was a new person with a new mindset; I started to pray too. I didn’t care about what my friends would think of my new fond direction.

On my way back home, I transited through Kampala, checked on my uncle before heading south to Kigali. I used a bus and had seat number 14.

Behind me, a mia seňorita sat! She was a beautiful half-cast girl seated next to someone who seemed to be her aunt. I was used to seeing pretty girls but this sunset was off the hook!  I could not keep myself from peeking at her every three minutes. Then her ‘aunt’ whispered something in her ears. They both laughed quietly.

“Come on, let’s swap seats,” the lady said.

I couldn’t believe my ears and what the Good Lord had done! Boy, my heart drummed so fast. I started sweating. Stammering I said: “Thanks ma’am.”

We exchanged seats and started talking.  The first thing I asked was if she was Rwandan. The answer was affirmative.

I got to know that she was 18 years (I was one year older), spent most of her life in Australia and that she had come for holidays in Rwanda. Her mum was Australian and her dad Rwandan. In the middle of the conversation, the tension reduced and honestly, I started throwing some points at her.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever met, I set my eyes on you and deep in my heart I knew I would get to know you,” I said.

She smiled and said, “Thanks, I appreciate.”

I had a lot on mind and I didn’t know which words to use as I expressed my feelings. When the right words were at the tip of my tongue, the bus halted to a stop.

That was the fasted journey of my life for we had arrived at the final destination. While unloading my bags, I saw her enter the car that had come to pick them up. I rushed to say good-bye but she was gone. I turned to get my bags and found a green card scribbled on, “PS: I like you- Diana.”

The story continues next week…

jamiefrings@yahoo.com

ADVERTISEMENT