The electricity blew. "F**********************ck!!!" I screamed. I was seriously angry. I hope i had not just ejaculated profanity during prayer time. But seriously!! I was used to the twice daily shut down and knew to save prolifically around 11 and 2pm. But this was 3pm and unscheduled. And yet everyone would have known, I had lost a good 20 minutes f work on my advocacy strategy proposal.
"Come!" said Jurhman with a smile. She was a heavy set girl, feisty, the media and communications manager. "You come to the roof!" Still grumbling I thought of staying to peruse the world eye health day report which I had printed that morning. I gave in and went to the roof of the 8 story building which was our office. It was a residential building within the army compound but some wealthy general let out several floors to NGOs. So it had a lovely leaf warm feel . Military lined the road in and out of the compound. I called it army road and would listen to exactly two empowering and motivational songs as i stomped down army road each morning. No vehicles were allowed and if I took a rickshaw it had to leave me at the entrance.
We trapaised the stairs in unison, thirsty for the impending storm. The sky was cloudy and grey. Light to medium drops fell with the promise to stay light, no soul washing storm just yet. The air was warm and breathable, not oppressive. we stood on the roof, Jurhman, Jewel and I and looked across the green fields beyond us one one side, the army compound, and the city, resplendent in turgid chaos on the other. We held ourselves silently in the rain and let it wash over us, ran from edge to edge of the rooftop, guided by passion and sway, everyone enjoying their own story, place and time. I had one of those beautiful experiences where i was purely in the moment and nowhere else. I knew I was alive, standing there in the rain and seeing the world from hazel eyes.
