Now, I am not going to give you a detailed account of the events that culminated in the birth of my … landlord junior. Landlord senior did his damn thing despite being away from home most of the time and a new member of the family was brought home yesterday amid a lot of pomp and circumstance.
Rather, this piece has to do with the strange (not that strange, come to think of it) circumstances under which I heard the news. Wednesday I was washing clothes, cleaning the house and stuff. A much expected package arrives towards the end of the work – my friend brings home-grown green, to mean salad. He tells me that XX has given birth the previous day and that she is in the hospital. Word!? I for my part had my misgivings about the pregnancy. I cannot go around suspecting every woman that happens to frequent loose dresses of concealing a baby, now, can I? The soldier’s wife was also fond of wearing… wait a minute! The soldier’s wife is also…?!
He heard it from the shopkeeper whose suq was closed while she was away visiting the new mother. He had asked the kids in the house about the news and they had confirmed it. Damn it! Now it would be impossible for me to act like I had heard nothing – they know that he would pass on the news.
Earlier that day the cloth line had snapped and while I was cleaning spots of dirt, XY knocks and I answer the door. Later, I was to find out that he was returning from a night and an early morning in the hospital. We greet, I notice a certain kind of expression which I could not decipher at the moment and I am left half-wondering what I did wrong. I ask him “beteseb dehina new?” and he answers “dehina new”. Come on, what was he supposed to say? “beteseb CHemirual”?
There you have it- the punchline! Laugh, I kill you!
Don’t you just hate it when life turns into a series of chores? When I heard the news I was like “Just when I thought I was finishing …” Tiredness came over me, the kind of which not even the mother felt post-partum. Why should I go to the hospital? XY himself had met me and he did not want to let me know. Instead, I had to hear about it through the grapevine. I tried to grow offended and I succeeded – I would give them a piece of my mind when they come back and if indignation so wills it, threaten to leave their house for them next month.
And I ended up going to the hospital.
For the record, they are arif sewoch.
A different story
I find a dead fly midway through the asa firfir. Asa firfir is like asa goulash but not quite. I get up to leave and the waiter asks me if there is anything wrong. He would not accept the money. I insist…
Let me paint a picture for you of the day I had been having. The students did not come to class because they had an exam the next day; the charger of the laptop was misbehaving, again; I was getting the chills, had my jacket zipped up at noon – a cold in the horizon. And then, a frigging fly in my meal?!
I was a semi-regular at the place. I would have liked it if I had acted a different way, if I had graciously told them that shit happens and not to let it happen again. Moreover, a Kamikaze fly could always get past their defenses.
My exit could have been better.
How am I supposed to return now? It would seem that I was taking a hiatus from their establishment as a form of “punishment”.
I am off to Addis Abeba for Gena; if you have any messages…
I am starting to see a guiding hand-that had been there all along- in my life. I’m gon be aight!
The pizza at Birutawit is real! (this is not the place I was talking about earlier)
somebody ring the alarm there is tires on the roof
and just because I am going to my hometown