The Chronicle Gambia
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Whirlwinds

Dear loved one,

If I leave unannounced in the middle of the night
Do not worry that I may come to harm

I do nothing that does not make my spirit dance
The night’s embrace is my fortress and I will be safe

I just want to soak up the moon’s rays, and revel at its beauty while the world sleeps

I want to run my feet through the cool sand and dance on the heart of the road, where the children dance by day.

I am off to inhale the silence and feel the night breeze upon my face. To listen to the crickets and follow the glow-worm until it fades away

Glow-worms remind me of a distant night when I was still new to this world. There was a water tap and there was laughter. Those shreds of memory that stayed behind

I remember games in the moonlight when the neighbor kids were good enough to play with. Eating fruit salad in the back of a truck, the milk running down our arms and dripping from our elbows

When I run off into the night, I run in search of new questions, new answers and glimpses of wonders I miss by day

To observe little whirlwinds that rise from the earth, twirling around bits of yellowed paper, squashed cigarette packs, old candy wrappers and mangled plastic. Dying off as suddenly as they had risen

When the garbage that lines the old walls turns into wondrous flowers
When the faint smell of urine becomes perfume in the wind, tickling my nostrils
When the crags in road become trickles of sparkling water

I will make my way back into the bed, happy that while the world slept, I built a garden in the streets of the night

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