Welcome To Marple Writing Group

Stockport Town Hall, Stockport, Greater Manche...

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I found myself one morning dialling a number;I listened as the phone ringing to the other end. “Marple Library, Good morning. How can I help you?” I heard a female voice answering the phone. “Goodmorning.  My name is Euna and I have heard of the writing group that meet every Tuesday evening at the library. I want to be part of the group and I was wondering whom I should contact?” “Could you just hold the line for a while I search for their contact details? I am sure we have their email address,” said the female voice that I believed she was the librarian. “No problem. I will hold,” I said with a cheerful voice.  After a couple of minutes the librarian voice boomed again. “I found the their email. Do you have a pen a paper with you?” she asked.  “I have it,”I said.  She called out the email address as I scribbled it on a small piece of paper. “Get in touch with them and I am sure they will be happy to know that you want to join them. Goodbye and wish you all the best of lucky”, said the librarian. “Thank you, I said as the line went dead on the other end.

Immediately I went online and emailed the leader of the group and introduced myself  and that I was much interested in joining them. I clicked the send button. In five minutes I checked my email inbox and there was new message. It was the reply from writer’s group and she welcomed me and informed that only two Tuesdays were left before they closed for summer holidays. She explained that I was welcome to come on the two Tuesdays but I will officially join the group in September when the schools are opened. She explained further that the following Tuesday, their topic will be centred on Monopoly. Everyone will write something about the topic and read it back at the group meeting.

I wrote back to her and I said I didn’t mind to come for those two Tuesdays left, and that I wanted to familiarise with the place and other writers. After she confirmed. Tuesday evening came, and I went to Marple Library. I was one of the early birds. Inside two members welcomed me. After the introductions, I got to know how the group started and that it welcomed diversity and hence it make them to know or understand the other side of the world through these other writer’s experiences. It was a great joy for them to have me and they are looking forward to hear my  experiences as an African girl.

Currently the Marple writing group is packed with writers who are in their mid thirties to seventy years of age though I wished the young people were part of it, but then some of them might be in colleges or universities. I was very much touched with the group and I loved all beautiful tones that I heard as they read their stories.  I am looking forward to have more fun with them as the year progressed.

A Child Fell From the Double Deck Bus Stairs

The view into Manchester Piccadilly station, n...

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On Sunday afternoon I am coming from church. I boarded one the First double decker buses from Salford University to Manchester Piccadilly. I chose to sit on one of the front seats though on normal week days I would barely sit on them because they are specially preserved for elderly, disabled and the mummies.

I had been on the bus for five minutes when I heard a thunderstorm crush and someone screaming on top of their voices. “Oh my God.” It was very disturbing and I turned aside to find the source of the commotion, I saw a couple just sitting opposite to my left side screaming but the woman was already advancing to the staircase. “Sorry, sorry,” she said.   I heard another screaming sound but this time it was a voice of a child. I looked again and saw the child. She was literally few feet away from me. She had fallen from the stairs as she made her way down to the main passage. Her mother was just literally behind her, but she was holding a baby and she couldn’t help her other child from falling.

The woman who had advanced towards the child picked her up and muttered the word sorry to the child several times before she gave her to her mother. The mother’s child took her hand and moved slowly towards to the door. The driver asked her question and she mumbled. Her little girl seemed to be in a lot of pain as she touched her knees several times. I am worried if the mother does not assess the child knees. The child could have an internal injury, but the mother seemed to take notice. After a minute the bus came to a stop. The child and the mother got off from the bus as they head to their home.

When I saw this happened I did know whom to blame? Several times I have used public transport and 95% of my all journeys I have heard some children screaming, and persuading their parents to let them go up and sit upstairs. If a parent refuses they pull up their hands as a way to enforce their wishes but some would have been asked in advance before they have boarded the bus. The children’s age ranges from 2-7. I presumed this what had also transpired between the mother and her little daughter. The situation was worsened with the mother who had already made a decision that she should get down with her children while the bus was on move. If they had waited patiently probably it could have been another different story. Or is it time for safety and security measures to be enforced for the sake of the children who enjoyed sitting on the top deck?

A Child Crushed On a Wedding Day

This "Cake in White Satin" with its ...

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The African women ululated. The African drums pounded. Women and men danced as they encircled the newly weds. They chanted their names and the couple smiled back. Makoroto meaning Congratulations a song that blended well with the event was heard emanating from the sweet voices of Africa. Love makes everything possible. It unites people and makes them one. Love is stronger than hatred. Love is beauty. Above all love conquers everything.

Busisiwe’s wedding gown became the subject of the day. It was exquisitely hand-made. Busisiwe strolled on the red carpet as she walked hand in hand with her husband, as they head to the high-table.

 Their reception hall was beautifully decorated with African materials. Different types of  clay pots, vases, drums, wooden mortars, pestles, drums and basket wares were beautifully displayed on every corner of the hall. Their wedding cakes were African-Zimbabwe map shaped while other cakes were drum shaped.The African theme was brilliant  and everybody liked it. The celebrations went well throughout the day.

 It was late evening when  there was sudden change and some people were going outside of the hall to have a chat, fresh breath or leaving for their homes. I was one of the people who went outside and I wanted to feel the fresh air, and my head had started aching. Whilst I was standing I noticed few things on children. The children were deadly relaxed, running, climbing, playing and pushing each other. Children were naturally enjoying these out-door activities. They were random plays but without any adult supervision. A fear of danger was completely outside their mind. They played as they crisscrossed the nearby roads and I began to fear for their lives. Cars were whizzing by and I remember the other driver in white car driving cautiously because he saw a little girl of nine just passing him and she was not even looking where she was going. She walked quickly as if she wanted to cross the road but subconsciously something hold her back. The driver of the white car manoeuvred his vehicle slowly and at times stopping and making sure the little girl was not going to cross his way. The little girl walked again and she stopped subconsciously and this time two cars were coming from both opposite directions. She remained standing for a while. Once satisfied, the driver of the white car moved his vehicle safely and he was gone. I had a deep breath, feeling for the driver who had successfully avoided an accident.

I gazed everywhere and I saw a child of two-years falling on the road. On my back another child was crying because he had fallen on the hard metal steps as he tried to follow other children who had already climbed the stairs.  I wondered where their parents where at that particular moment? It was getting scary every time. Someone else picked the two –year-old and they let him sat on the edge of the road. I moved away from the place and went in sit down in my friend’s car. I had stayed about five minutes when I thought of going back to the hall. On my way back I saw a police car and the ambulance. I wondered what happened? I probed in, and I found out that one of the children who were playing had an accident. A car had crushed on his leg as he was crossing. What I actually had feared for,  took place in the least five minutes I left the place. My heart went for the child. The master of ceremony, earlier had pre-warned guardians and parents to look after their children and he had said if parents failed to keep an eye on their children they will fall into a big trouble but unfortunately some his words had fallen on rocks.

Is It The Riches?

I took photo with Canon camera.

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It was three o’clock, the time when he came back home and only silence welcomed him. A big vacuum had been drilled on his heart . Nothing could fill the hole. His whole body shuddered with anger, and as he shook his head vigorously. He wanted to clear out his chest. The sudden dramatic changes in his life had brought so much misery and Achu could not withstand it. He paced to and fro in their grand designed house. He punched the walls with his fist and broke two picture frames “How could Chuchu do this to me? She broke my heart and took away my family. Now, I am lonely man in the world. God why did you not warned me? My life is in tatters. Is there anyone outside who can hear me? My life… My life… My life…He groaned in anger as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He squatted for a while, as his head searches for the answers that nobody could give him.

 Achu was fiercely crying over the spilt milk. He was a man of integrity,  well-loved and respected by his family and the community at large. But on this day his life was in shambles, the woman he loved so much had betrayed him. Chuchu, the woman of his heart, the little girl he had transformed to a woman. The little girl he had loved on the early days of their youth and promised her manna from heaven, and through hard-working, Achu, fulfilled the dreams of his wife. In ten years he had built a £50 million business empire. He had invested wisely in properties across the British cities. To those who knew his background, they saw it as a was a wheel of fortune, and from rugs to riches. Achu provided all the necessities and he made sure his wife and children dressed elegantly like many celebrates. Any form of designer clothes that his wife liked would ended up in their wardrobe. It made him feel happy and to feel like a real man. It was his wish to make sure that his wife  and children are happy. “When you are happy babe, I am also happy?” These were his daily words he spoke to his wife but to this day he had failed to comprehend what had transformed his angelic wife to a monster. He had written in his heart that only death could separate him from his wife. It was the same wows they made on their wedding. Chuchu, his heart throbbing wife had destroyed his role as a man. She had literally shredded it and threw it away into the bin. “Chuchu, how could you do this to me?” at this point Achu was pointing with trembling finger at one of Chuchu’s pictures, which was still hanging in their living room. A picture that showed Chuchu and family relaxed at home.

 Chuchu a discreet woman had grown to love his man Achu and she had dearly loved him and emulates her husband’s success. She had enjoyed the fruits of their success. She became the envy of her family and friends. Together Chuchu and Achu they had travelled extensively going for holidays and business meetings and sometimes they would go with their nanny, Theresa, who in return be looking after their twin girls, Achi and Chumi. Business meetings had always given Chuchu a lot of excitement. She had always looked forward for them. Meeting new people and share the business concepts.

It was one of the business trips in America that led Chuchu to meet a charming, prominent lawyer, Andrea Blacksmith. Andrea Blacksmith  the fifth richest man in America. He had inherited a vast of wealth from his great maternal and paternal grand parents who were both  Lords and owned slaves but despite that Andrea had a lot of respect for people of different races. Andrea owned shares in Anglo-American, Microsoft, and the Coca Colacompanies. He also invested in properties.  Some of his early properties invested were auctioned  by celebrates and Hollywood stars. He enjoyed the success and the lavishing style he shared with the beautiful women. He was not in a rush to marry and neither the girlfriends who in time and again offered him some sexual pressures but this was not until he met the most beautiful and elegant woman, Chuchu, the wife of Achu. He had cursed one of his friends, Jamie, who had observed earlier at the business meeting that his friend, Andrea was undoubtedly attracted to Chuchu and had lost concentration as his eyes were running between the woman and him.

“Get off your eyes from her,” she is a married woman.  I saw your eyes running like those of a cat in search of the lost rat. Jamie said as he joked with his friend, Andrea, at lunchtime. “Mind your own business my friend”, Andrea retaliated. “I love Chuchu” “Are you crazy? Or you are out of your mind?” Jamie heated back. “Just wait and watch. I mean every word. I am like an eagle when it comes to hunt on beautiful women.” Andrea boasted. “I warn you Andrea, never get close to my wife or else I will kill you in day light,” Jamie was getting angrier every minute and he never thought his friend could be a bait. He had a lot of respect for him and he knew that his friend Andrea had a lot of  Hollywood girl friends star but he never thought his friend ‘ with a married woman. It’s like his eyes were opened for the day to see the true character of his friend. “ As long as she plays I am ugly game,” I won’t get near her. In the end their lunch was short-lived as Jamie decided that he had enough of Andrea.

 Five buildings away from where Jamie and Andrea had dined, in another restaurant; a woman in her early thirties is talking to her husband. “Sweetheart, your mind seemed to be far away? Is anything worrying you, today?  Tell me if there is anything I can do for you. Remember, I am happy when you are happy babe,” Achu spoke with a fervent voice. He had noticed soon after the business meeting that his wife’s mind was thousand miles away from the things they were speaking about, and he thought if he could wait for a while his wife would confide her thoughts to him.  After twenty minutes in the restaurant he realised that his wife was not going to release information that bothered her. “Nothing really, darling. I was thinking if it was possible for us to move from England and live permanently in America. I love California or San Francisco.”  This was an opportunist answer that she had preserved in her mind but in truth Chuchu was thinking Andrea. She knew that she loved him the moment that their eyes met for the first time. The charming, prominent lawyer had blown away her heart. She loved everything that she saw from Andrea and she instinctively knew that Andrea had fallen head over heels. During the business meeting their eyes were conveying messages. Message that their body languages understood well. She was praying silently for a clandestine opportunity where she could talk to Andrea without the prying eyes and she wondered where he was and what he was doing? Whether Andrea was thinking of her as she was for him?

 “Nothing is impossible, darling we can move to America .  For how long have you been thinking this, darling? You should not let things like that trouble your heart. Personally I love England more and most our business properties are in England. It’s easier to run around and manage the properties but on the family matter know that babe; I always respect your wishes. Who knows what the future us and the sky is the limit,”Achu.. to be continued

fidelity