The night before I left for Harare, my sisters and I brought the mattresses together and decided to stay up all night. In all the commotion, an MP3 player got misplaced. In the quest to find it, accusations were being flung all over and the general consensus was, “the devil must have taken it.”
As we searched for it we found a scorpion instead.
Armed with hockey sticks and winter boots, we struck the blankets in search of the little black agent of death. Mattresses and blankets were thrown out and disowned for harbouring the fugitive. Finally, we found the ‘lethal injection’ trying to hide under the mattress we were wreaking havoc from. Our headquarters were the scorpion’s refugee camp. My sisters served the scorpion a fate worse than death kinda like Pac losing to Mayweather. But even though we had seen the scorpion die, fears arose.
What if it was married and the spouse comes for it?
What if it had laid eggs?
We all felt like something was crawling on our skin.
Life is something like that. You go in search of the truth. Feelings get hurt. Lives get ruined. And as you stand in that debris, you have so much clarity in that moment. Whatever has remained standing at that point is what is real and true. Whatever is destroyed was tainted anyway. Sometimes we resent the truth for so long that we discard everything tied to it. But when you come face to face with it you have no choice but to fight til the finish. But the truth doesn’t come alone because, “when they say its over, its not really over there’s still the pain,” and worries, and fears and regrets and all sorts of scenarios playing out in the imagination.
Ignorance is bliss.