The beads appeared on Ruth’s wrist a day before she passed on. Everyone, but the three of us, bawled their lungs out. We were old and being crushed by cancer. We were happy for her.
I saw Susanna wear them a week later. That night, Susanna too, went to be with the Lord. Nyambura was too impatient to wait the day out. She followed suit six hours after.
They moved me to the garden so I could be away from the empty beds. When my daughter came to visit later, I couldn’t hear a word of her chattering. I was concerned about what she had around her wrist.
“What beads mum? You know I don’t wear jewelry.”
My heart fell.
‘Pictory’ — A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.
Story — °Ngartia
Picture — Kimani Wandaka
Originally published at kimaniwandaka.wordpress.com on January 30, 2016.