Millicent okello is a freelance writer and a teacher who writes about various subjects, including education and creative writing.
Her worried look on her face is a sign,
That mummy is about to leave again,
All she can remember is standing by the broken mirror,
She smiles back and gives an assurance
Kiss on her cheeks, and knows she is to leave.
She loves her make-up box, and everyday little and tiny
Piece mastered by name.
And her little face has become the laboratory,
Where she does her own experiments.
And mummy loves it when she looks at her feet,
And tries to walk on the high stelloutes
As she supports herself
On the wall, her baby steps so fragile..
She bolts the door and rushes to the window
To watch her mummy leave the compound,
She shouts to remind her about the goodies,
“don’t forget the sweets mummy”
She waves goodbye without turning back
Answering her frequently ringing phone.
The stilloutes sounds vanish along the corridor
To announce her fading movements ,
Her smile vanishes.
She locks the window and sits on the chair,
Slouching and sobbing herself to sleep.
She dreams of her fairy tale princess,
Seeing herself in the land of sweets and goodies,
She loves the happiness surrounding,
That her mummy never leaves, holding her close.
The life of her mummy the part she
Never liked-coming back late.
A sparrow sits on her crown and tries to remove
The diamond decorations, it struggles hard
She smiles and giggles,
She opens her eyes, mummy uses a stick to tap
Her head, to wake up from her sweet dreams.
She sees the fading dreams and the bolted door
She is back, smelling like the liquor factory
Carrying her stilloutes in hand.
She pushes her to pave way,
And as usual, she is back with another uncle.
She retires to bed ,and waits for another day.
And the little one bolts the door- the neighbours ,
Loudly laugh as they mention her mummy’s name.
© 2022 Millicent Okello