She has your Story…

In the countryside, the moon shines brighter than in the city. Those from the city might not comprehend what this means. Look, ever sat or lay at the roof-top of a four or more storey building in the dark? Then watch the moon as it shines on your face with all its bareness? Now, imagine the closeness and the unspoken communication between the two of you. Here, in the countryside, it’s deeper than that! Lying in the fields, facing the moon is ameliorative. No hooting cars, no sirens or the KPLC token meter beep, or curfew gunshots. No neighbours arguing over a broken glass, or a child crying for a phone. The only dominant noise is one of crickets chirping (they don’t do it for fun by the way; it’s a mating call they make. When you hear a cricket chirping, it is always a male, calling for a female cricket- a love story sweeter than yours). Sometimes, coincidentally, or by temperature’s call, they don’t chirp. So that the only sounds you hear are your heartbeat and the moon’s unspoken words. These are lovely nights- when crickets don’t chirp. But even if they do, from around you and beneath you, the sounds slowly peter out as you zoom in the moon closer to your heart until no chirps and whirrs can be heard. The moon shines!

As you lie, the moon covers you, the whole of you. In a cold night you feel its divine warmth and can’t stop but feel drugged and fall in love. You fall in love so fast and your trust for her builds so swiftly you don’t notice. She is yours and you are hers. This is not an entanglement, or a flirt, or a flip. This is love between two beings who’ve forever longed for each other, to share secrets. The rest of the world ceases to exist and you open up to her. But before you say a word, she tells you a story. The moon has a story to tell, always!

It tells you a story of two lovers, secret lovers, who risk everything to be together. You know, they are not supposed to be together but they can’t run away from what binds them. They know the danger of seeing each other and still, they meet. They risk messing up both their homes and the risk, as they believe, is worth. Whatever they do, they do it in the dark. They meet in the dark where nobody can see them but her- the moon. The moon knows their story. She knows the number of times they’ve met and the nights they’ve kissed. She watches them as they sneak out of their homes, and slither out of their compounds oblivious of what lurks in the dark, all for love. For stolen love. They know no one watches them. They are unaware of the bright eye above them, witnessing their story. The moon has their story.

As you grasp the story, it embarks on another one, of a man- an evil man who wakes up at midnight and dresses to steal. He puts on a demonic apparel to terrorize and take from the humble that have tilled the earth under the day’s heat. He roams from block to block to find a place greener to take from. He sees a particular house he had passed by during the day and he remembers everything he had seen and imagined to be in that homestead. His skills of going through the obstacles erected around the homestead are magnificent. He gets in and clears the compound. He goes to the window and gets a chemical he carries with him. He blows it to the room where they sleep and their sleep becomes heavier. Their senses stop functioning and the house becomes a safe haven for him. He breaks in through the door, no one hears. On his way out, he leaves the house half empty, inconsiderate of what tomorrow holds for them. He never imagines the tears in their eyes when they wake up to the sight of nothing, literally. He feels rich and proficient. He believes no one saw him, but the moon did!

The moon has a story to tell. She tells you about a woman. A mother. She wakes up at 2 a.m. To pray. She knows her prayers are long and her voice is rich, so she steps outside the house. She lets her family have a peaceful night as she tries to find God in the dark. Outside, she prays. She prays for favour and protection on her family. She confesses that she lied to her kids when she said she will buy for them books and clothes tomorrow. She doesn’t know where she will get the money. She doesn’t even know if tomorrow will come, for them. So, at night, alone, she prays. She prays believing that the kids won’t hear her personal chat with the heavens. She believes she is alone, seeking God. But the moon is there, listening to her bones crack as she kneels. The moon hears her. The moon has her story too!

Amazed! That’s the feeling after learning the moon has stories to tell. It amazes you even more the way she looks at you without a blink. She is a loyal companion who never leaves, always there watching, unfaltering, knowing each one of us in our light and dark moments. She lets in every lonesome to talk to. And more interesting, she listens. It’s for its gentleness that you trust it. It’s its grace and unwillingness to fight or attack that you leave your bed to go to the fields. It never worries about a thing, always at peace.

As you enjoy her company, she caresses your soul gently. Tempted, you ask, “Do you have another story?”

She stares at you, without losing her brightness, and with the sweetest of voice, say, “I have another. It’s your story.” The moon has your story!!

And she shines brighter in the countryside.