Next door

4 days ago a child died

He died

He was six weeks old

Six weeks old and dying of starvation

Starved to death while his mother watched

Wishing the flesh that melted off her body from having the child that thrived inside of her to die outside of her

Wishing that flesh would turn into something she could feed her baby

Wished her son was weaned and she could take the pieces of her broken heart, add milk and avocado, mash it up and give it to her child that he might live


They found her sitting next to him

He wasn’t breathing anymore, skin and bones lying on the floor

Black lips and distended belly

His face is not calm

He is poised to cry, though he barely cried in those last hours


They found her seated next to him with her husband barely coherent

Inability in his life touching everything from provision to expression

Inability in everything except music and tenacity

He tried and tried and tried and tried… and yet

The child died

for trial and error may eventually lead to success;

but time is unforgiving of unsuccess, and runs on regardless of your sentiments


So the child died

While the world threw out the garbage, the child died

While I picked the beans out of my githeri, a child died

While my brother played Nintendo, a child died

While we were texting money to feed Kenya, a child died

In my neighborhood

Next door


Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?


2 thoughts on “Next door

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