Dear Me

Tale of an Almajiri

Chapter one

Wake up every day to the voices of misfortunes wondering if this world is solitude for sorrow that wraps the desires that harbor my smiles. My strength relies on people my heart chooses, but their hearts never chose me flipping me like a junk dish that lost sight of the future

At Boyhood, I tasted the pleasure of the disguise manhood. Staring at the street but has no ambiance as the underneath licked the trees that are meant for my shelter. Bathing at each breath of the day with the sweat extract from my boiled skin.

My cheeks become humid, muggy, and soggy as they are coined from the den of pains as deep down myself lies the strength of my weakness making me a fugitive of my rights. I toil day and night to the future I gazed, but life pays me a dogear.

What a menace to be a street champion with no credibility!

Seeing my foes droving down the aisle with well-ironed dresses with smiles on their faces just to acquire western knowledge, I asked if maybe I'm of the traditional era where barefoot walking is used for bragging.

I often wonder what it means to be comfortable, maybe it is the humming sounds in my belly when I am hungry, or the bitter lime taste dabbling in my throat when I am thirsty, or maybe it is the color of despondency I saw in the eyes of my misery-mates. How could I explain the color of hope to the world while they seem to be blinded by hopelessness?

The apathy of compassion seems to have evaporated into the nearest galaxy. I thought life is meant to be like a journey on a steady path, but mine is an adventure into the weirdest terrain. I couldn't remember the warm touch of my mother, it is in the touch of the scorching floor I find my comfort. 

Day by day, I wake up with the hope that the sun will shine brighter in my world, but whenever I gaze upon the sky, all I see is looming darkness hovering around the atmosphere. I do not know how I could tell it apart from day and night. In my eyes, they all look the same. 

But wait! I thought parents are for guidance nurtured to guide my ambiance? Am I a child of no parent? Why is my life transparent? This I asked as my thought walk down the menace the street gave me.