MY HOUSE IN THE VILLAGE

It was in this house that my first cry burst to earth from the hands of a village midwife who was not in school. In this house, my mother gave her life for me with all her strength. In this house I was born and raised.

My house is not big and not small, just medium. The walls of my house are covered only with boards and some are concrete. The floor is just ordinary cement. The roof of my house is only zinc plated and has two windows on the front and some on the side.

In that house my mother gave birth to four sons and a daughter. Now, at home, only my mother and grandmother are very old, while my father has gone to the Almighty for a long time.

But memories that I can never forget. As the days passed, my house grew older and one by one we began to leave it. All that's left now is quiet.