Hi everyone. I believe you're enjoying your day. It's my first weekend writing. I hope you'll enjoy reading.
The 30th day of October,2020 was a memorable day for many but for my family and me, it was a day that crumbled our dreams and made us become paupers.
We were just released from the covid-19 bondage and given the opportunity to go to the market between 10am and 1pm.
My mother had warned me not to leave the house that day so I would be able to do my chores and also for security reasons. She said this before going to the market. She had prepared my favorite meal: fried rice🍧 and chicken🍜, and instructed me not to use the gas cooker to cook anything at all except to warm my food whenever I wanted to eat. I was told not to leave the house for any reason.
I later felt hungry and as I had just put the pot of rice on the cooker to warm my food, there was a knock on the door. It was Prisca, my classmate who lives two houses away from us. I opened the door for her and as we got chatting, I forgot I had put something on the fire. She took the book she had come for and asked me to see her off. I remembered mum's instruction not to leave the house but I brushed it off with the the thought of coming back as soon as possible.
We got downstairs and there was a fight between two naughty boys in the neighborhood that caught our attention. Some elders tried to separate them but they refused and continued to fight. We stayed back to see the end of the fight.
When the fight was over, I wished my friend goodbye and rushed back to the house. The stench of smoke that greeted me was enough for me to know what had happened. I tried to get to the kitchen but it was not possible. Inside the kitchen there was fire, wild and threatening. I could not risk my life. I thought of my mother and her warning, and I felt devastated. I ran out in confusion shouting, 'Help! Help! Fire! Fire!'
Everyone rushed in the direction of our house. Some were carrying buckets of water, some had sand but the fire had grown so wild for them to handle. I screamed and rolled myself on the ground and refused to be consoled. Some good Samaritans called the fire service men and, as usual, it took them one hour to get to our house. By then, the house was in ruins. It was a sorry sight to behold. My parents certificates were all burnt. Nothing was saved.
Few hours later, my mom returned. Looking at what used to be our house made her faint. She was rushed to the hospital. The doctors, like the fire fighters, battled hard to save her life and in the end, they succeeded. But, she ended up with stroke. The shock was too much for her. My dad was devastated when he was informed about the incidence. Thank God for fire insurance.
I hated myself for bringing doom to my family. How I wish I had listened to my mother.
Thanks for your time.
Have a nice weekend.