Buld a Home

At school on a Wednesday, 

our teacher taught us about buildings.

Schools, hospitals, houses. 

Bricks and mortar. 

Achievements of human toil. 

At recess, the wisest among us spoke, 

"What builds a house into a home is people. "

The ingredients to a build a home,

they told me

Was

A mother, a father and a child. 

"That's all you need, money is a bonus."

I was delighted!

Smiled from ear to ear.

I had all the ingredients!

That evening when I returned from school, 

My eyes searched for mother. 

She was in the kitchen, 

demure as a daisy,

cooking our meals. 

I ran to her, 

with my small bag torn and stitched back repeatedly, bouncing on my back, 

and whispered,

"thank you, 

thank you for building me a home."

She looked astonished, gave a sad smile and embraced me. 

The ingredients to a build a home they told me

Were

A mother, a father and a child.

So I waited. I waited for my father to return 'home'. 

Six o clock, 

seven o clock, 

eight o clock, 

nine o clock,

he still didn't return.

This was the latest I had been up, 

mom put me to bed at eight every night.

But today?

Today I was determined to throw my arms around my father, 

hug him and scream out loud "thank you for building me a home!"

At exactly 10:34 pm father arrived.  

As I rushed to open the door he staggered in,

With the smell of alcohol having devoured him whole. 

The air all around us

instantly turned as stale as the two day old roti ma was eating. 

I forgot why I was standing next to the door in the first place. 

Father fell to the floor. 

Mother rose and pulled him inside. 

He fought her and her lip began to bleed.

And then,

Suddenly, 

I didn't want to say anything anymore. 

The ingredients to a build a home,

They told me

Were, 

A mother, a father and a child.

But maybe, some houses are just houses.