The ground is cracked, like my dry lips and my dirty feet. The sun shines bright and hot, and the few leaves left on the old guava tree slowly float to the ground, yellow and dry. Mama spreads the millet grains on the compound, singing a beautiful song.
The rains will come
The ground will heal again
The rains will come
The birds will sing again
The rains will come
The hills will blossom again
I watch mama singing, and watch the dog sleeping. The sun shines bright and hot, and the few leaves on the old guava tree slowly float to the ground, yellow and dry. Papa fans himself with an old book, singing a beautiful song.
The rains will return
The children will sing again
The rains will return
The rivers will flow again
The rains will return
The hills will blossom again
I lick my cracked lips, and smile. The rains will come, and the ground will heal again. I will fly a kite with my friends, and swim in the river. I will be happy again.
Read – Selfish Sun – A Children’s Story by Charity Modise, Botswana
