I was the youngest amongst the 7 children of the neighborhood who danced in the rain. Dancing in the rain was the greatest fun I knew. It was most fantastic to witness the first rains of the years and have the sweet scents of vapor from the dust fill our breath. Being a very young girl, I was never equal to the rapid pace the older ones had always set. I either stumbled and rolled in the wet soil or just lay and have the rain stroke my back while I watched the 'Toads of the rain' as my elder sister would call the turfs of water which danced down the slopes until the rain was over. My 10 year old sister was one of us even though she had a bed leg. One of her legs was so thin around the ankle area. She wasn't born that way. It was an accident.

Orangutans voraciously fed on papa's corns in his farm and it hurt him so much it gave him sleepless nights.

One day they'd left us home alone for a funeral up in a neighboring village and stayed longer than they promised, so long we grew hungry and tired of waiting. Little as we were, we could barely cook anything. Getting some maize and roasting them was the commonest remedy. I remembered papa had earlier warned us against going any close to the farm but couldn't opt out of the mission as I was hungry too. I knew sister wouldn't give me if I had stayed back, playing all innocent. We agreed to get just two. Scratches from the rhizomes could be so tough. Back then, it always didn't take long before plays started. Instead of going back home after we'd got the maizes, we began paying with the cobs, aiming to brush them at each other, wanting to be the last to brush or drop the cobs. We were so loose not to have known it was about time the orangutans came for the corns.

I was so desperate to win the game, as Cindy moved back to avoid the leave I struck upward her neck. Her leg got clipped by a heavy trap and she rang out the loudest scream of her life. Papa had actually planted traps for the orangutans and never thought we could come for the maize all by ourselves for any reason. I was jagged with tension, the cobs flying in the air. I didn't know exactly what to do. Had a few farmers who were close by not ambulanced toward us, the trap would have bitten off Cindy's leg. I feared she could die from the bad cut.

It'd been 3 years since the accident and she still coped with the rest of the children in plays...

Papa had a younger brother who was better off than he was. His name is Bernard. He was the only brother papa had. The best friend he had. Uncle Bernard ran a business in the city. That was the farthest I knew. He did have a good heart on us but liked me more simply because I was the youngest. He always came by, every December with lots of presents for I and Cindy. We were so fond of him and ensured my mouth never ran out of biscuits and sweets. We were the reason he always had balled pockets that were full of many sweet things. . .