Two Ships

Ife saw him waiting for the elevator.  She tried not to make it obvious that she was watching him as she pushed the cart down the hallway.  She knew he was in no. 406, the Royal suite.  He was very handsome and a sharp dresser.  He must be rich, she thought.  This was a 5-star hotel he was staying in.

He was looking straight ahead and appeared to be in deep thought.  He didn’t notice her and when the elevator doors opened, he went inside.  After they closed behind him, she continued down the hallway to the different suites she still had to clean.  When she got to his, she looked around.  It was in impeccable order.  The bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in.  Out of all the suites on this floor, his was the one she didn’t mind cleaning.

As she got to work, she wondered how long he was staying in Kampala this time.  The last time it was for two weeks and the time before that, three.  He wasn’t the first Japanese businessman she had seen in the hotel or in Kampala.  More and more Japanese were flocking to the city to live, holiday or set up businesses.  Was he planning to live here or to set up a business?  What about his family?  Did he have a wife and children?  He looked young–in his mid to late thirties.

Well, it was none of her business.  A man like him would not be interested in her–a single mother working as a maid in a fancy hotel and living in a run-down neighborhood.  And they were from different cultures.  No, she would be better off finding and marrying a decent Ugandan man who wouldn’t mind being a step-father to her daughter.

Toshiro leaned against the tree, looking up at the hotel.  She was probably in his suite now.  He knew that she was watching him as he waited for the elevator.  He could feel her eyes on him.  He appeared not to have noticed or acknowledged her but he had.   The temptation to look at her was very strong but he resisted.  She could be married for all he knew and he was in a relationship.

To be honest, he was staying at this hotel because of her.  The first time he saw her was last year when they passed each other in the hallway.   Their eyes met and held for a long time before she lowered hers.   Since then, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her or wanting to see her again.  Perhaps, one of these days, he would say hello to her.  There was no harm in that, was there?

Just then a taxi pulled up in front of the hotel’s entrance.  He glanced at his watch.  It was time to go to the meeting.  Moving away from the tree, he hurried over to the taxi and climbed.   As it drove off, he glanced up at the fourth floor.  Hopefully, he would see her again tomorrow.

This is a prequel to Ife’s Toilet Crisis.

Another Bad Day

Dear Diary,

I had another BAD day today.  Mom and I got into another one of our huge arguments.  She’s always finding fault with me.  I just can’t seem to do anything right.  I’m sick and tired of this.  Sometimes, I wish I could run away but where would I go?  I can’t stay at my father’s place.  I don’t like his new wife.  She’s young enough to be my older sister.  She’s so fake.  Always acting all nice when he’s around but the minute he’s not there, it’s like dealing with Cruella de Vil.  I can’t go to Sean’s house.  His parents would have a conniption.  They don’t know that we’re sexually active.  We have been very careful.

So, as I was telling you, Mom and I had an argument this morning.  Today it was how I didn’t do a good job washing the dishes.  I mean, really?  Why did I even need to wash them when we have the dishwasher?  Yesterday, it was my room.  Apparently, I didn’t do a good job cleaning it.  Isn’t that what she is supposed to do, being a housewife and all?  The day before, it was the rice.  It got burned.  I was in my room texting my friend, Millie.  But still, how was any of this my fault?  Mom’s the one who’s supposed to do the cooking, not me.

I got grounded and my cell was confiscated for a whole month because of the rice incident.  Can you believe that?  It’s just so unfair.  She’s always criticizing everything I do but doesn’t say anything to either of my brothers who get with murder (I don’t mean they literally murder anyone, of course.  It’s just a figure of speech).  They hardly get grounded or have their privileges taken away.  It’s painfully obvious that Mom favors them over me.  That’s fine with me.  I don’t want her favor anyway.  I just want her to be fair, that’s all.

Yes, life here is hard for a seventeen year old girl.  Can’t wait until I turn twenty-one and can move out.  Until then, though, I have to deal with Mom.

Well, that’s my rant for today.  Until tomorrow, ciao for now.

Anabela

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for Tuesday which is Fault. For more information, click HERE.

 

Anchored

She stood on the pier watching the boats come and go.   She was once like an unmoored boat, drifting out into the currents of life because she had no anchor to hold her like the boats fastened to the dock.  It began when her parents were killed in a car accident and she had to live with her aunt and uncle.

Life with her aunt was terrible.  Her uncle was nice–he treated her with kindness but her aunt was a miserable woman.  She kept saying to her, “You are your father’s daughter.  You are just like him.  No good.  He was a good for nothing lout, a drunk and a cheat.  I don’t know why my sister ever married him.”

Day in a day out she said bad things about her Dad and her.  It got to the point where she stayed out late just to avoid going back to that house.  Her aunt thought that she was out drinking and partying with her friends and threatened to kick her out.  “I will not have that sort of behavior in my house,” she fumed.  It was no point telling her aunt that she hadn’t been doing any of those things.  The truth she had spent hours in the library until it closed and then she had gone to the pier to look at the boats and the flickering lights.  It was her favorite place.  She and her Dad used to go there.

She didn’t say anything in her defense but went on the laptop in the study and started searching for an apartment to rent.  Her uncle helped her to find a place and she gladly moved out.  She was relieved to be away from her aunt who was a Christian.  Her uncle wasn’t one.  If Christians were any thing like her aunt, she wanted nothing to do with them.

Of course things didn’t get any better after she moved out.  She struggled to get by.  She had to do a lot of things for herself–such as cooking, cleaning, laundry, paying bills, etc. Working part-time while studying was a great challenge.  Going out with friends during the week was out of the question now.  She went out with them on Saturday nights but she got tired of going to nightclubs and bars and meeting guys who had only one thing on their minds.

After she graduated, she got a job at a publishing company and life was improving.  She was no longer struggling.  She made new friends.  It was at a barbecue at one of these friends’ home where she met Jim.  Jim was a funny, handsome and easy-going guy.  They hit it off right away.  They spent most of the afternoon and evening together.  He drove her home and they arranged to go out for a bit to eat the following evening.  They started to see each other on a regular basis.

When Jim first told her that he was a Christian, she couldn’t believe it because he was the complete opposite of her aunt.  One evening he invited her to go to church with him on Saturday.  At first she was hesitant but then he persuaded her and she went.  The moment she set foot in the church, she was amazed at how warm and friendly the people were.  Jim’s parents were there too and he introduced her to them.  They invited both of them to have lunch with them after church.  She spent a very pleasant afternoon with the family.  Like her, Jim was an only child.   He and his parents were very close.  As he drove her home, he told her that they liked her very much.

Jim studied the Bible with her and she went to church with him very week.  Then one Saturday morning, she got baptized.  Her uncle went but her aunt didn’t.  When she heard that it was a Seventh-day Adventist church, she refused to go saying, “Adventists aren’t real Christians.  They are a cult.”

She smiled now as walked along the pier.  It was here where Jim proposed to her.  It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon.  They had just had dinner and had come here afterwards. As they walked slowly along the pier, he suddenly went in front of her and got down on one knee and popped the question. With a happy laugh and tears in her eyes she said, “Yes!”  He sprang to his feet and hugged her.  For the rest of the night she was walking on cloud nine.

She called her uncle and asked him to give her away.  As they drove to the church, he looked at her and said, “I wish your parents were here to see what a beautiful young woman you have become, especially your Dad.  He was a good man, Amanda.  He adored you.  And he was good to your mother.  It’s just that things got rough for him and he coped with it the only way he felt he could.  You are your father’s daughter and don’t let anyone make you ashamed of that.”

She smiled at him through the tears and squeezed his hand.  “Thanks, Uncle Bob.”  Yes, she wished her Dad were there that day to walk her down the aisle.

Now she stood there on the pier, anchored in her faith and in her marriage.  Yes, she was like one of the boats fastened securely to the dock.

Three Miles for Water

Imagine walking three miles each day to collect water and the only water available is in filthy ponds or lakes.  This water is contaminated with waterborne illnesses but these women have no choice.  They don’t have indoor plumbing.  They don’t have the privilege of filling pots with water from the kitchen sink and using that water to cook.  They don’t have a washer and a dryer to do their laundry.  They don’t have bottled or filtered water for drinking.  They have dirty water at their disposal.  They need this water to cook, wash clothes and drink.  This water which is a necessity for them can bring death and sickness to their families.

Look at the ground they have to travel over in order to get this water that is not fit for anything.  It looks dry because of the scorching heat.  Imagine walking in that heat for three miles and then retracing your steps, carrying heavy buckets and jugs of water seven days a week.

Look at this water.  It’s brown.  This woman would gladly draw clean water from a well if there was one but she has to settle for this muddy water.

Fetching water is not only exhausting for women and girls but it takes a toll in other areas.  Water for the Ages gave these 10 facts on women and water:

• Women and children fetch the majority of water for household uses in rural areas. Often this keeps them from attending school or working at a job.
• The average distance that women and children walk for water in Africa and Asia is six kilometers (3.7 miles).
• Women carry heavy loads of water (about 20 liters) on their heads in some locations in the world. This causes severe damage to the neck and spine over time.
• Women make most household water and sanitation decisions, but they are rarely invited to be involved in planning or management of water and sanitation systems.
• Water projects that involve women in planning and management are proven more likely to succeed.
• In many places in the world, women’s land rights are not recognized, and they are unable to access water for agricultural uses.
• On average, women work twice as long as men for unpaid work (housework, cleaning, cooking, washing, etc.) than men.
• Women are primary caretakers of the millions of children that fall ill each year from water-related illnesses. This reduces time spent working or on education.
• For mothers and pregnant women, an improved water supply and proper water storage is essential to protect lives and ensure good health.
• Women are under-represented in water and sanitation sector jobs with men having most jobs in this field.

Imagine being pregnant and having to travel a long distance to fetch water.   Here’s a video of a woman who suffered miscarriages as a result of fetching drinking water for her family.

This seems so wrong.  When I was a child and we had a water shortage, we had to draw water from the pipe in the yard.  It was heavy carrying this bucket up the stairs and to the bathroom.  I can’t imagine walking for miles with a heavy bucket of water.  This is not something that women or girls should be doing.  Yet the men are not doing it and some of them are marrying extra women to fetch them water.  These women are called, “water wives”.

Reuter’s reporter Danish Siddiqui reports that these “water wives” are often widows or single mothers wishing to “regain respect” in their communities. He notes that they usually do not share the marital bed and often live in separate apartments. But even though many are wives in name only, their labor is essential to their husbands: they must walk through hot temperatures and sticky humidity to communal wells, where they then wait hours for their turn before loading up metal containers and makeshift pitchers with water and lugging them back.   Their husband and the village depend on them to take on this time consuming and inconvenient task.  However, these women are happy with the arrangement.  It’s better than being a widow or abandoned.

Unlike the “water wives” many women in South Asia don’t have access to communal wells.  They have to travel far to fetch unclean water.  Thankfully, their situation is not hopeless.  Through Gospel for Asia, women can get clean water for their families from Jesus’ Wells.

Find out more about how the Lord is using clean water to demonstrate His love for these thirsty people by checking out this link.  You can help to improve the health of families by helping Gospel for Asia to provide clean, pure water from a Jesus’ Well.

Sources:  Gospel for Asia; Water for Ages; Smithsonian ;Yahoo News