It’s 0230am May 26th 2019 as l write this
I might not finish it right now but the ones written in these moments usually come out as my best ones
The silence of the night. The somewhat state of euphoria & trance ensures a damn good one.

Hold on. I need to adjust my sleeping position. From the time I had a back injury I can never lie on my tummy for more than 2 seconds. The pain. Oi

Ok where was I. My name is hankie or some would prefer to go all the way and call me including my sur name, handkerchief. As you can see, l hold a senior title, chief. I’ll tell you why. I am the most famous person on earth. I attend millions of events worldwide, each day. Am also humble as I visit many homes to comfort souls. I stay up in the night if need be. Am the ultimate brother, sister, father, mother and friend. Name it. Call me any time, I will be there. Promise. I am that solid friend that many keep in their pockets and carry around just in case.

I have the ability to change color and shape and be in over one billion places at the same time. I knowwwww, talented right?

I have come to learn that the human persona grieves in different ways & only I the handkerchief, chief of all handkers, understands accurately the exact pain of each one of them… because am always there… lurking somewhere, even way before the burial. I witness every act before the deaths. I wipe away the tears until a smile is drawn and even then, my work is not done. My work is never done as long as man is on earth.

I wipe away the heartbreaks in breakups, the blood in battered womens’ wounds, the snots on little kids noses, the painful tears of a mother losing her child, the red eyes of an abused victim who is still being abused and so cries every day, the cries of a disappointed youth who has tarmacked the earth in search of a job, the silent cries of a father who has no money to take her deeply ailing child to hospital (with this, I also get a bang on the steering wheel), the hopeless cries of a streetchild who begs incessantly just to get some food for that day, tempted to rob as the hunger pins her tummy in a bid to poke her intestines out but even then, she is ironically moral and refrains from that thought. Rather she knows the consequences that would enthrall from her act of sheer stupidity. The tears of a fearful survivor –the dusit attack. Here I not only wipe tears, am grinched in the arm of the frightened young man in a bid to settle his racing heart. Also, in a bid to be thankful he is alive.

I pray too. Strength for the weak, blessings for the recovered, success for the hardworking, protection for the frail. Aye, protection for us all.

For every grief. Every joy on earth. I the handkerchief am there.

Sometimes it is not to wipe tears. Sometimes am just a pocket square companion. Sometimes I wish I was human. I would tell humans’ it should never be that serious. I think they know thought. Anyway, am not in their shoes, so let me not pretend to know.

This is my mission on earth.To be. I am a real emissary of hope.


Muthoni Kirumba

The author Muthoni Kirumba

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