BLACK RAIN

BLACK RAIN

You have always hated when it rained. The shadow its coming casts on the bright sky. The mud it creates that smears your tires, prompting you to visit the wash more frequently. You try to shrug off the weight hanging in the atmosphere as you drive into your office premises.

The black company umbrella which the service guy holds out for you as you step down from your car adds to your irritation. You also have recently developed a penchant dislike for the colour black.  It hasn’t always been so and you do not hate many things- only those associated with gloom. And the colour black cannot be crossed off from the list. Just like the rain and its double edged sword. Today it is good for the crops and the farmers rejoice, the next day the clouds will fail to console herself and wail till an erosion, gully or even a flood becomes imminent.

You think of happy moments to dispel your foul mood and let a smile grace your face when you enter your office to see the sun peeking from behind a cloud. You walk to the windows and take in sight of the city below. The rain is abating and you imagine Valerie trying to pull you out to the garden to skip with her. Why she loves the wet grass is still beyond your understanding. You tuck the memory back into a place where it stays hidden and protected. 

Oh beautiful one, please shine in your full glory and save us from this misery. You say to yourself as you bury your soul into the files on your desk.

Several cups of tea, two video conference meetings and a joke or two with your colleagues leaves you tired. It has been a while since you shared that much laughter in the office. Just as you are about to bid the day farewell to make it in time for your doctor’s appointment, the clouds began to weep again, pulling you back to that dark corner. 

As you approach the door, Cosmos makes way with his black umbrella. You bring him to a halt with your and place a #1,000 note in his hands.

“Cosmos, for Christ’s sake get another colour of umbrella”.

“Yes Sir”. He replies, utterly confused.

You head for the car where your driver awaits, but your limp makes the short distance take forever drenching your blue Armani suit. You finally make it to the car and cuss as you try to shake off the rain drops from your jacket. On the way to the hospital, you thank God that Valerie and Nkiru don’t need the physiotherapy which you subject yourself to weekly.

The sound of the rain on the car roof reminds you of the accident. Nkiru was by your side and Valerie sprawled at the backseat. Sleeping at last. You were enjoying the light talk and banter with your wife when the car entered a pothole which you missed as the rain had it covered. You tried to dodge the next one and swerved to the right. Into the sound of shattering glasses and Nkiru’s sultry voice fading as she said, Jesus.

After about two hours of massage and exercises. You are exhausted and all you want is to go back home to your family. The doctor says something about your next visit but you do not listen. You just take your drugs and think of how light your leg feels. The rain has stopped but it was already evening and it does nothing for you. You enjoy the cool breeze as it hits your face. It was the first rain of the year and the only blessings that comes with it are the subsiding heat and sweet udara.

You get home safely to a warm bath and nicely prepared dinner of spaghetti and fried fish. You remember how Nkiru always made jest of how a grown man weighing 85kg would relish such light food. And the occasional pasta fight.

You sit to watch the evening news and soon your eyes close to a handcuffed Dasuki entering the court house.

You wake to the sound of thunder. The bloody rain was at it again. As ironic as it sounds, Valerie loves the rain during the day but get scared at night. She says it’s because she can’t see the silver line connecting the clouds and the ground. You begin to head for her bedroom, sure she had awoken already, suffocating Winne the Pooh from fear when you remember she was outside with Nkiru.

You take two umbrellas from the kitchen, the purple one for Valerie to remind her of the courage of Princess Sophia. It was raining hard and the only clothing on your body was the trouser of your pajamas. You step out into the cold with the safety of your girls on your mind.

You sit between the two graves holding an umbrella in each hand and soon your tears become one with the rain.