Amir Saleem

Falling Angels of Hope

Hunger lets no faith remain strong. To start off with, Uzuri had stopped believing in angels; those who were supposed to come barging in with unseen help when a kind human soul was in trouble. She never felt any angel’s steps ruffling the air in which she breathed.

She was expecting another child; this was proving to be too much. Six children in equal number of years while there was nothing to live for, no hope for life to exist and Mwamba, her husband was insistent on bringing more life to a world infected by famine, poverty, disease and civil war. Two of her sons and a daughter had already been taken away by disease.

Some two years ago, she named her newly born son Ezeamaka; it meant ‘as splendid as the king’ and it was so appropriate too, for Ezeamaka was a child of extremely good health in a region with its trademark malnutrition-children.

Last night her village was burnt down by the rival gorillas as the warriors from her village had ransacked another village some seven miles away. A disturbed life tasted displacement for a change and she had to leave with her husband and children to a safer place, if there was any such thing.

Ezeamaka ate more than the other two kids combined and they were running out of food. This was not what she had desired for; but did she ever desire anything? “My son is as splendid as the king, he shouldn’t be with us; only if there were angels I would have left him with them” she thought; and then made a decision.

The gorillas had been chasing this migrating group and were approaching them fast. Before the sun came out, the herd took off towards the north; she let Ezeamaka sleep and left him there. She carried more pain in her heart than the love she left with Ezeamaka; but for the first time she heard some voices in the sky.

Ezeamaka woke up only to find himself surrounding by dry land and abandoned luggage. He was about to start crying when he heard the sky roar a gentle roar; he looked up.

Angels were falling from the sky.