By Anne Ejiegbu
“Push!” was the fuel that set Abike ablaze with the strength to deliver her long-awaited babe within minutes. She fumbled from the mat, ignoring the pool of blood and the awe-struck birth-attendant, agbebi, to examine him as he wailed. He was beautifully pink, hair like a raccoon, and eyebrows arched into a scowl as the wailing continued. Suddenly, she recognised the wail—the tune to the dirge she had sung for three other sons. His blood-stuck skin became cold as the wail ebbed; her eyes widened in terror. She grabbed the child, started running to find help from someone, anyone.
Nice
Just beautiful! Kudos all the way
Thanks alot dear.
Thanks alot. ?
Beautifully written and so filled with emotion. Wonderful piece!
Thanks alot Ellen.
Where is the remaining??
Hope..fully.
Cool!
The depth compensates for the brevity. Lovely work
Great one!…. It’s fine and the idea precise.