“MANG BEN, GO TOWARDS THE LIGHT!”

It’s been few days since I last heard the noise of a garden cart either
being dragged or being pushed around the compound from early  morning
until late afternoon except on Sundays. Grass have grown taller, dry
leaves remain uncollected, plants await pruning. The hands that care of
these things, and many more, some mundane, has been absent for a few
days. His absence is strongly felt.
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