fatima, 6

De man doan know how much he miss, / Ef he ain’t got no niece lak dis; / Fro yore Unkel one mo’ kiss, / Mah ’ittle Touzle Head!
Ray G. Dandridge, ’Ittle Touzle Head

The father founded the single hut village, and his two sons, Amir and Rashid, now run it, both somewhere north of 70. Amir was so poor he never could come up with the money to marry, and has been single his entire life, roaming around the mountain slopes with the goats, sleeping alone in a little one-room hut near the donkey, wishing for his own.

But this isn’t a story of loss. It is one of survival and freedom, of the little girls who will come over and spread a mat under the tree for you, of the chicken and rice they will feed you with, the scraps thrown to the dogs. It is about living in a place that the world has no interest in, where you have no neighbours, or shops, friends, but are still largely content.

< Previous   Next >



© 2001-2007 Pinaki