Still going strong...

Mine wasn’t a very pleasant seniour High, there I was staying with my Aunt whose hubby had died , left with a young son. Aunt was a tailor , and you know what they say with tailors, they just never make that dress on time, I limit this comment to regions. Another cousin of mine Cynthia, lived here too. It wasn’t such an ideal environment, because for one my ma and pa and the rest of the family lived in the city. Living with my aunt, those were really tough times. Aunt Becky, was somehow lazy , but such a sweet talker. In some ways this worked for me or against me. Cousin Cynthia and I would always sleep late in the night boiling the drinking water, wake up early to open the tailor shop, and when I say early, thats’ before the birds start singing. When you are not from Africa its hard to comprehend, what am talking about, but also it would be hard to appreciate significantly the poverty side of this continent. I was a child raised up in the city, and living with my aunt in the countryside, though in an urban centre, and been entirely in her hand. There were no mobile phones then, and I would always get my spending allowance through Aunty Becky who somehow never released the funds to me and I was forced to go to school with little to do money. Sometimes she would leave us for a month with less than a dollar with promises of coming over the next day, and they would disappear for a whole month with my other cousin Boyd. Those days , which was during holidays, it was so heard to get by, as we would be forced to borrow from persons who in one way or another were related to our families, between me and Cynthia. Cynthia, Boyd , and I shared mothers who were sisters to each other. When Thomas walked into my life, things were really frustrating. I was in my two last years of Senoir High, and having it so rough. Am not sure when he came around if it a relief or true feelings of love. What I remember the most, is something grew out of whatever relationship we had, friendship.