A house to die for
When R reached the house after a long drive say, for 40 min, he honked and waited in front of a large iron gate wrapped in tin sheet which almost hid the house from sight. I wondered about the action inside with such covertness…illicit brew or drug deal or a treasure trove? The compound wall was very high reminding me of ‘Central Prison’ but on top of it was an adornment of sturdy bougainvillea flaunting purple and pink flower bunches. We waited patiently and I said. "This is becoming like a pattern. Should I try 'Open Sesame!'?" I heard the gingling of keys unlocking the door from inside and there stood a young African in faded jeans and bright red tee shirt with the words, “There is no hurry in Africa” written across. His thick, spring curly hair and bright smile were very welcoming and cheerful.
The house was a white structure surrounded by plants in different shades of green contrasting with other striking colours giving the place a look of an enchanted garden. I jumped out as R parked the car in front of the house and a pleasant lemon smell wafted from the tree where the lock of the gate hit the tree. A big lemon tree with tender fruits greeted us spreading its dark leaves above my head. There were more trees and a coconut palm on my side. Bright multicoloured foliage and flowers bordered the building which I wanted to explore later. Like soldiers, by the side of the door steps were bushes of bird of paradise with orange flowers swaying in the hot breeze.
R opened the metal barred door of the house and a wooden door behind it to let us in. Children ran inside bewildered. I stepped into the hallway which had a big framed picture with ‘Om’ in the center and bright purple to black psychedelic circles around it causing a hypnotic effect. I sharply felt a power in the painting which gave me a true sense of relief. The heavy curtains in the living room were dark gray with large pink flowers having brush strokes of white on them resembling a painting. The coffee table was plain hard wood and couches in leather and I instantly liked the house. I was the ruler of my own house for the first time as I was always a side kick in a joint family so far. Now I have my kids, my husband and a house to manage. I thought that was the ultimate luxury not realizing the responsibilities and pains that come with it.
The young man brought our bags inside. “This is Museen,” R introduced him. He walked towards me and said, “Jambo Mama!” with a strong, confident hand shake accompanied by bending his knees. I have never had a firm hand shake like it before. I was confused and stood undecided.
"Say Jambo,” prompted R. “That’s the greeting”.
‘Jam-bo’! I voiced the word in my mouth for the first time that I was going to utter a thousand times again in different locations and situations.
I looked at Museen. He was a boyish looking, not quite tall, friendly fellow with pearly white teeth smiling at me. At that moment I did not know that I would hate him or he was going to make me cry my heart out.