AllFreeNovel
Share Us
If only Samuel knew about this. He could have told Kaikare how Gran felt.
I pick up the journal and continue reading where I left off.
47
IVY
Approximately May 1964
For many months I didn’t find the need to write.
Life was good.
We were happy.
Dawn brought joy to us in a special way, and my lonely days were few. Dawn barely cried.
At first, I thought something could be wrong, especially since she slept through the night. I was getting sleep. Dawn was feeding well. I then considered the tea I drank and the smoke therapy during birth and wondered if any of these calmed her. I only hope the tea hasn’t affected her brain. Around me, the children are fine, and everyone is calm most of the time. Still, learning by way of school and university is what concerns me, and if these natural remedies have hindered her learning capability, I’ll never forgive myself. Because I do hold out hope of us leaving one day and Dawn having a future as an academic.
I now have time to try and assess her.
Because the damn rains are back. Over an inch every day. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Either way, after several weeks, the ground is saturated, and there’s nowhere for it to drain so the village becomes a swimming pool once more. The main huts are fine. My hut is surrounded by water. It makes bathing Dawn difficult, and the non-use of cloth nappies has been harder to manage. I’m not complaining as urine and feces has never bothered me if I can clean up the mess.
The musky stench surrounding the village is back. Food is scarce. At least I have plenty of fresh water to aid my breast milk. It’s something I have focused on as it concerned me how to feed Dawn if I couldn’t provide milk. It happens. I had problems breastfeeding Winston. Though I assume other mothers here would step up and feed her as the women all look out for each other. Once upon a time, I wouldn’t have agreed to it. Now I understand and find the gesture rather beautiful. We must unite as the men have an authority here, which isn’t surprising.
Except Weju. He’s back learning from the shaman. And he comes to check on us every day.
Dawn is different.
Her hair is brown, not jet black like the other babies. And her eyes are almost a honey color, not the dark eyes of her father nor my blue eyes.
As expected, her skin is also lighter in color, although it’s premature to determine what features will dominate.
I often imagine taking her home to Australia, except Albert’s reaction scares me.
Would he welcome me home with open arms, welcome us both?
Or would his honor be tattered by my infidelity? Would he want to raise another man’s child? I see a vision of Winston and imagine how happy he’d be to have a sister. I often daydream of my children playing together, sharing a swing together or playing chase on the grass.
Grass.
I’ve forgotten what it feels like under my feet.
It’s when I put pen to paper my mind wanders, and the tears flow, missing my old life.
It’s why my entries are few.
More importantly, my pen is considered a form of bad magic, so I do it in private. The pen didn’t come naturally from the forest, so if not sourced from there, they have trouble comprehending between good and bad. It’s why I need to take photos on my camera without anyone noticing. Unfortunately, I don’t have many clicks remaining on my film wind. And I want to save some for Dawn.
Tonoro, a young girl, is wading toward my hut. She loves to come and help me.
I’m signing off for probably some time unless the rains get to me again. Like Tonoro, there’s much for me to be grateful for.
And I’m still alive.
Alive with a beautiful daughter.
Approximately August 1964
