Wuhan, the rambling capital of Central China’s Hubei region, is a business community separated by the Yangtze and Han waterways. While the pronunciation of this city remains a debacle, its rays are forever embedded in the annals of history. Whilst history students are putting down pen on pad for future review, the world and myself are gazing through a stark darkness that sometimes my not illuminate light forever. When it was announced about some months ago, little did we know it would pan out to be the greatest catastrophe of the decade probably one that resembles the Spanish deadly influenza flu of 1918 where scores of death were witnessed approximately over 500 million people were infected. In as much as there exists many theories explaining the origin of the pandemic and a cold war melee between China and USA ensuing, most countries do not know what to do with her citizens. Some countries are blank others tordid and skeptical while a few have remained adamant and seek local medicinal, this is the vast situation of the world right now! One of my friends Okebe, who holds a honorary certificate from Kojola primary school attributes this to Martin Luther king’s famous Birmingham jail letter asserting, “The purpose of direct action is to create a situation so crisis-packed that it will inevitably open the door to negotiation. “Referring to Chinese intent against powerful competing countries notably the United States of America (USA). This is not the only theory doing rounds in the global sphere, another one pitting an American writer Dean Koontz who its said might have predicted the Corona virus in his novel The Eyes of Darkness making reference to an exceptional Wuhan-400 in 1981.Disputes aside and in as much as I like novelists and Dean is quite a good writer, exceptionally talented, exhilarating and exciting, he is no psychic .This situation is here with us and recently I was sharing with Korir one of our watchman how this tendency of making scientific findings and knowledge a question for political arbitration is a sign that authority for claims is based on string feeling and not fact. He would hear none of it, such an inflatable blob of ignorance swerved with vitriolic Government gaffe.

The intent of my letter is to educate on how to live in this abyss of mental retardation and social absence. We all miss our loved ones, greeting and hugging has become a sin, “”could it be because china ate and we all are washing our hands?”(no pun intended)this is what  most theories put on table especially for banter yet the Chinese have had them since the 13 dynasties that ruled China. Nevertheless washing hands with sanitizers have worked well, remaining at home and avoiding a group is laudable and everyone who has maintained social distancing too deserves to see another day. One moment that melted my heart was Dianna Chris a black human rights activist  from New York, she was 71 years and had  lived to see many historical events especially one that made her almost lose hope was the 9/11 attacks. Through God’s grace she held fast to world unknown and lost 5 of her family members including his son who was to graduate. The moment she was infected with Covid19, she was buoyant and firm because to her, she’s lived with fear and agony for the rest of her life. That emptiness and forlorn and bitterness mixed with pain were her daily breath. Recently in the hospital before she lost the battle to Corona, she held a long gaze to nurses and Doctors and whispered what could become her last words.

She had lived helping and nurturing young people through their rights and education an embodiment of a true woman and a beacon of hope. She was an antitheses of a soiled hosiery and if there was a name befitting her, Sistine chapel would romp home. Tears welled the Nurses eyes as they heard those profound last words. You know the most common literary line is William Shakespeare’s “”To be or not to be, that is the question “until a clear version of what she said came forth. Those hopeful beautiful words were the last stand for her. ”There is only one hope after we are done with this world, to see our redeemer!”. For my entire adult life, such words are the palm oil of nostalgia. In times of despair and hopelessness, legends are born and in Dianna, I have a testimony of how generation after generation without blur is draped nobly in the folds of gorgeous eloquence. She to me was one of the most important hallmarks of a true warrior and leader. This world never recognized her nor did they give her hope and honor but because she sought refuge in Christ her savior, she right at home. A few people have shared her stories, a woman who attended Many death ceremonies and grieved with a multitude but died and no one except Doctors giving her a send-off. This are my heroes, they make up my story a reminiscent of Bible trilogy that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us.

If we live to see the generation, her memories will forever burn bright but one that my generation will be faced to defend is what did you do in the wake of that 2020 Covid pandemic. Stand up and be counted, this is history unfolding, Winston Churchill once quipped, ”The only guide to a man is his conscience; the only shield to his memory is the rectitude and sincerity of his actions, It is very imprudent to walk through life without this shield, because we are so often mocked by the failure of our hopes and the upsetting of our calculations; but with this shield however the fates may play we march always in the ranks of honor”. If you cannot give hope write some hope for other people. If you cannot preach like Paul you can say the love of Jesus that he died for all.


Surely it was going to be a happy cocktail party as the sage goes, ’A good beginning makes a good ending”. We slowly approached the room gazing at each other worriedly. “Where are all the people?”, I curiously asked myself. My mother and I were invited into a thanks-giving party into our neighbor’s house but to our utter disbelief, there was no one insight.

                Abruptly, we heard another sound inside the room. We looked to see if there was anyone but our efforts were futile, slowly and cautiously we entered. We both had expected good fortunes but the unfolding events were a perfect example of a melee, a bomb just waiting to explode. Tears of despondency cascaded down my chubby cheeks as grotesque image filled my mind in agonizing situation.

                Suddenly, I had a yelp that rattled the windows and before I could say jack Robinson, my grip was held simultaneously and wailing was the second best option of the fracas.Heeelp…….but to no avail as my ugly assailant had gotten the better of me, I hated it the more after realizing it was a woman. The sheer force of her voice caused my massive bosom to quiver like a gigantic jelly.

                             Questions crisscrossed my mind but none could ever be a fitting response to Calvary. “What if my mother is killed? “The much hyped adrenalin could not work much perfect for me as if I was a replica to biological dyfunction.For a minute there ,I was bored to death and my story could only be a reminiscent of the Trojan war and dactylic hexameter. I thought of the many action movies we used to watch at Manhattan to help me outwit my rival but home alone came cross, gosh Kevin was young, he couldn’t fight the old man, furthermore that was a fiction, this is real….my voice was choking and blurred, the whole scene was a trapic melodrama. Never before had I been challenged by a feminist but despite her ugly demeanor, she was nasty and tough, she fought with strong gusto and bravado, a hallmark of a true warrior and king.

                           After treating me to several slaps and kicks, I could only hear her sounding contrary to a mushy –gushy I thought she was. Despite the pitch darkness that had engulfed the house, I was aware of her conformed body; her protuberant nose matched with her deep vulpine eye under bushy eye-brows, her legs were wobble and feeble, had big and red eyes like the Massachusetts ladies, as if that is not enough, her hands were spread automatically to announce to the world her bare defect of malnutrition. She led me away despite my resistance, pushed me inside a room that otherwise looked cubicle with glowing lights and an attractive aroma.

                                          I couldn’t believe what I saw…the house was packed to fullness and many were throng who were clad in their traditional regalia and chanting my name. Looking across the house, I saw familiar faces who like me pays allegiance to the moon and stars in the sky. Nobody knows exactly when night becomes day but you know when it is daylight. I thought this the most soul-searching, epic and legendary stories next to Jesus birth in a manger. Tears of joy welled up my eyes but I blinked them in a bid to stop them because i came to realize later that all was a trick done to me to keep me out of my wit, it was realized that I was the most fearful boy of my peer. This did not augur well with my educational rise to stardom and academic flair. I will live to remember this day not because it was a day worth remembering, but a day never to be forgotten. That was in 1945 and the second world war was coming to an end.

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