Rose Johnson, is a young promising zealous young woman who swims in the challenges that life threw at whilst struggling to make a way out from it. Despite all her efforts and struggles, She feels that the end is still far from her. Follow up with this amazing piece and witness all of rose moments, trials and sucess
Chapter 1 ONE
Life!
Life!!
Life!!!
Growing up, one would think that things would be easy. You fall in love with the right man, have your finances flowing in and stable, make a name for oneself whilst still running and maintaining a happy family. Who are we kidding?. With the constant change of things and society developing, you would think as a person you will keep up but life has a way of reducing you to its own pace and you must bend to its will. My name is Rose Johnson and this is my story.
Year 1999, was a blessed moment for the family of Mr and Mrs ken Johnson in the local area of mabusa, Kenya. A girl child has being born. Looking around, you could feel the joyous moments, taste the happiness in everyone's face. I opended my eyes as a young child unable to describe that particular moment. Seeing different faces, laughing and dancing Merrily, it was indeed a good day for them to celebrate. It was fascinating how much people could actually be celebrated. I could feel my mother is the happiest having survive through the gnawing pains of Labour and giving to this little bundle of joy, Well, that's me!.
My father , ken Johnson, also could not contain his happiness as he ran effortless to provide the nourishment and items the visiting people needs in order to set the mood straight. I feel myself being tossed from on hand to another whilst receiving different prayers and blessings. If only they knew. Dancing and praising God was the greatest thing that captivated me. I kept my tiny eyes open even though I was seeing anything; I listened with my tiny ears not being able to hear a thing But I was still captivated. I could feel the vibrations of the drum, the unrelenting feet dropping of the dancers, laughters flowing in and out. A day of pure bliss; A day of recognition.
Somedays passed and I was brought out again. What again is going on? I could feel myself resisting to go out with my tiny cries and unshed tears. Mother , Agnes Johnson, adorned me with a magnificent white dress. Well , gracious me! I looked gorgeous. I couldn't pretend that I was unhappy. I kept blowing out raspberries and making happy faces. My tiny face almost fall off my neck. I was that happy. Well, I was to attend my first church outing and I couldn't be more merrier. I was going to return all thanks to my creator whilst also asking him to favour me in this my journey in earth. I feel the reverend going on and on about having a thankful heart and returning back to God. What a good day!. The choir was on fire that day, giving the congregation the mood they need to be . Well, myself wasn't an exception because I could feel my tiny fingers and toes wagging to the tune also. It was fascinating. Another round series of prayers and I felt myself being dipped into a water all the while receiving nicely made oils. I let out a cry. Mother was quick on her face to receive me back from the reverend. It seems everything have done. I relaxed under the abundance milk flow coming out from the breast of my mother. A heaven made on earth. It was an enriching body of pure bliss. I felt myself drifting away from this world in a peaceful slumber
Days went by and turned up weeks. I kept growing and living. I can finely be able to crawl to where ever I want, taste whatever I want, touch whatever I want. Pure freedom!. No more mother always backing me up. I could eventually let her have her peace. I want nothing more than that. It was intriguing how time flies. I kept doing my own things keeping a distance from mother but who am I fooling? Mother is always right by me. She would stop me from eating everything I set my hands while I could only cry and grapple to be left alone. " Don't eat this","not that one", "No", "hey, not this one",......these are what I hear her say each time pick up some items. To me, She is strict. Why can't I have my own way and eat whatever I want.
My older brothers, Austin and Michael were not left behind on this. They made sure to help mother wash some of the dirty things in the house. But I always find the clothes that wore everyday most especially workdays fascinating. I could remember well that mother will always remind them to wash their clothes as against the coming days. I found it to be captivating each time they dress up in that attire with their bags crossed out in front while brightly and happily marching out to where they ought to be. I wished to be like them!. Months passed by and a year went, I am now a year older. On that day, I was adorned by my mother with a beautiful long flowery dress and a birthday crown to match. I was very happy. Everybody was happy. Other Kids like myself all tagged around with me to cut up the cakes and the music came blasting in afterwards. It was a beautiful moment to share and enjoy. I especially loved the fact that i was the person of attention this day. It was a captivating memory that I will always cherish and carry along with me anytime, any day. My mother called it " My First Year Birthday ". Another round of prayers and well wishing were made into me on this day but i kept asking myself when can I get to wear the clothes my brother wore on weekdays?. I fell in love with the clothes that my brothers always wore and hoped to be wearing one too. But when could the happen? I really can't want again.
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Chapter 1 ONE
17/01/2024
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