Freedom 15

There is a sound
Of praise
That sets the people free

His family was together again. Sitting together. No one was screaming. No one was being over dramatic. No one’s feelings were getting hurt. Johnson wasn’t sure, but it seemed it was time to come back home. To Nigeria. There were so many opportunities. He had saved up. He could join forces with that NGO he had heard of that provided quick medical services to people in the rural areas. He could volunteer his services to an organisation established for the education of children everywhere. He could see his sisters as often as possible. He could call Bisola again. Maybe, just maybe it was time to return home.
*********************************************
Jessica sat at the table, contemplating just how her life seemed to be changing. 3 months ago she had invited her uncle into her house. Bruised and battered. She’d ignored her niggling feelings of mistrust. And her gut feeling of danger. And she had paid for that in blood. Her blood. Time and time again. She might never have children. She who loved children. She who wanted them so badly, was at risk of never having them. It tore her apart. Thinking of it now, it still tore her apart. About to start crying, she was led out by a masculine hand and enfolded in a bear hug. The sniffling reduced. Eventually.
“How did you know I was about to cry?” she asked.
“I know you”, said a voice that belonged to the past. She jerked away. “Alex?”
“Jessica? ” he mimicked.

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