Give Love a Chance in Pursuit of Justice Copyright Constance Mutale

She smiled and they lady smiled as well. They had had a lengthy quiet time together. She had two glasses of wine, her dark eyes captive of his brown eyes. Then he suggested something, looking at his watch.

“Let’s go to the hotel quickly. Or my house before my wife comes back.”

“No I think the hotel is better.” She replied as he held her hand. 

They paid the bill and hurried to his car like naughty teenagers before the they hurried to the nearby hotel. She was giggling as they walked into the lobby; the wine had gotten to her head. She had tied her hair to the top of her head. It was a nice and warm afternoon with a few cloud cover. He drove an expensive sporty car. He was of medium built, and wore an expensive suit and shoes. His face was clean shaven and had a bit of a belly but nothing that could not work back to a six pack with the right exercises. He booked a room and soon he whisked her upstairs to the room. Without knowing it they hurriedly undressed. She kissed him back as he mumbled just how crazily in love she made him feel. He had never done this before and before long the lay on the bed covers and he made love with her. She was out of breath, she let go of her fears. She was here now and she might as well enjoy the moment. Her long dark hair, he made it loose as he kissed her face, he run his hands through it as they perspired. She kissed him again and again. She laughed at first nervously but then she got used to the idea and just let go as though she were with her husband. She let go. She was happy. They lay quietly afterwards. He was asleep. She took a quick nap, but after half an hour she woke up. 

“Listen I have to go. I have to go. I need to get home before my husband does.” She began.

He pulled the pillow to his ears.

But she continued.

“Gill.” She nudged at him; “I have to go. Drive me back to the restaurant. I need to collect my car.” She practically pleaded as though reality had just set back.

“Okay. Okay, calm down.” He interrupted. “I am exhausted.” He responded getting up and walking to the bathroom. He used the toilet and then he walked into the shower.

“Don’t you want to shower or something?” He called out.

“My hair… I will be too fresh. I will shower as soon as I get home.”

“I have to.” He responded rubbing the soap on his body, “In case my wife smells me.”

“So you do this often?”

“No.” He lied. “You are just one special lady.”

“So the business…?” She began.

“I can’t talk about that now. It was pleasure and the rest will follow. You sound like my wife. Don’t rush me. I will take care of it in good time. You have my word.” He replied whilst she stood in the bathroom with him.

They needed at least 50k, for the project. He has to come through. She looked at her watch as he began to dress. Next time she will drive her own car, she could not bear to wait, but she had to be patient, she had to be polite, after all she was a lady. She’d had a good time. Why was she worried? She had to be home before her husband.

“Now we are ready.” He said patting her on the shoulder. “Let’s hope we won’t meet the late afternoon traffic”

“Let’s hope so.” She replied delighted to be leaving the premises.

They talked briefly on their way back to the restaurant. He parked the car and kissed her on the lips. She thanked him for the ride and hurried to her car. She got into her car and looked herself in the mirror, what have I done she thought to herself; before looking away from her image. She raced back home. It was nearly twilight when she pulled into the driveway. She got out of the car and walked towards the house.

“Hello. Where have you been? I was trying to reach you for some time but I couldn’t get hold of you?” She heard the sound of her familiar husband’s voice. This was the moment she dreaded. This is the reason she should not have left her car parked at the restaurant. She could have been here a bit earlier then. She was faced with the prospect of kissing her own husband on the lips now.

“I went off.” She replied scratching her head and remembered that her hair was now loose, whereas in the morning she’d had it tied. She hoped that he could not remember.

“Off to where?” Visco persisted as he studied her.

“To see some possible clients. They needed to tell me what they wanted.”

“So do these clients have names? Does the place have a name?”

“What about me entering the house and talking over a cup of tea or something?” She smiled at her husband, “I might as well give you my business dairy. How was your day darling?” She added a bit sarcastically.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot you work hard!” Moving out of her way. She rolled her eyes as she walked past him.

“And my day was okay.” He replied walking in after her.

“I need to put on some flat shoes.” She hurried to the bedroom upstairs. She took off her clothes and hurried into the shower just as her husband walked in. He sat on the toilet seat.

“I was actually concerned about you.” He continued.

“I thought you would work late on the project?” She cut in as the shower water made noise in the background.

“Yeah but we don’t have money. I mean I already told you that. So it is pointless for me to make the guys work late. Talking of money…” He spoke up in a raised voice so he could be heard above the running water.

“Yeah I know. I thought one of my clients would pay me yesterday but they didn’t. You will have to wait a day or so.” She replied back in a high tone too whilst rubbing the shower gel on her body. This is just what she wanted; to wash Gill off her body.

Distorted View Courtesy of Constance Mutale(c)

Page 359 and 360 of distorted View extract

She smiled with a look of concern on her face.

“Is it the same in the rest of Africa?”

“I am guessing… no.” He replied…he paused for a moment. “Listen it does not bother me, but can we talk about something more pleasant. Like kissing; and making love after a year?” He said searching her face and pausing again after he was now seated in the driver’s seat.

She smiled again.

“And then we can go for dinner later.” He continued watching her beautiful face.

He stopped at a flower shop and bought her some flowers.

“You see… better than in Europe, they are fresh from the garden.” He reasoned with her.

“They do smell nice.” She said receiving them graciously.

He kissed her.

He recalled having a romantic evening with her with dinner by candlelight whilst soft music played in the background.

They drank some wine during the course of the meal and he dreamed in her green eyes again, everything was just right.

“So…” They both began at the same time. He, having just lit a cigarette as he lay next to her.

“No you first.” She giggled, as she lay bare beneath the covers.

“No you first.” He insisted playfully touching the tip of her nose with his index finger having put out the ciggeratte on the ash-tray that was on top of the bedside table.

“Okay…” She said looking at him with her beautiful emerald eyes before kissing his fingers back playfully. “When are you coming back to Europe?”

“I was going to ask when we were going to get married in Africa?”

“No Vil.” She said sitting up.

“Wait.” He said getting up and taking his camera from the dressing table before taking a shot at her partially covered body, with her hands in her hair.

She laughed again.

Pope Francis on Peace

First and for most I would like to register that I am not an expert on the subject. The intended idea was to write about the unfortunate event of the toddler that washed to the shores on Turkey soil almost two weeks ago. Most people were indeed saddened by the incident which could have been avoided.

However as I was still stuck thinking about the news article and the desperate situation that the civil war was leaving the  Syrian civilians in and most likely in any place where there is war, I continued to listen to the news.

In the midst of all the turmoil the voice of Pope Francis was heard. As he delivered the speech, which I so wish was in English so I could hear word for word, I instead listened to the translator. He called on the church and the Catholic Christians to open their doors to the Syrian refugee’s. It was a big call. He does not end there; he announces how the Vatican will open the door to two families!!!

Those words echo and ring in my head time and again. This is the Pope Francis who was ordained a Jesuit but has elected to follow after St. Francis of Assisi. As a person who follows after Francis, he also decided not to live in the very luxurious apartment where a pope is supposed to live and the recent petition was to pray for the environment.

Now this is a vast and urgent topic; the environment, this is not a religious article but for those who do not know St.Francis of Assisi, he loved the environment and wrote many canticles, to Brother Moon, sister water and the earth. He went on many retreats and in his humility tried to broker peace coming as far as Egypt, where he may have met his illness, although he returned to France.

On the subject of nature and kindness, they went hand in hand for him- as he is said to have had the ability to speak even to the birds and asked them to be silent so he could talk. Therefore Pope Francis is no exception, he too, called in the same path, despite the materialist world that we live and operate in his preaching the one message of love.

Every day we hear of love and speak of it in our every day language and Jesus message was love one another as I have loved you.

Whilst everyone is caught up in the war in Syria, trying to find out who is financing and how far Russia will go to assist, a voice of love is heard, a call for peace, open those doors and give hope to the families fleeing and afflicted by war. Echoing the sentiments of the father of the toddler his words were ‘the world has let us down’ which made headlines around the world; but a few days later, a message of hope was announced. As I write I hope that the message is being put into practice, we can only hope that the faith with which pope Francis spoke will indeed come into play.  Love.

‘Lord make me an instrument of your peace, where there is hatred let me sow love, where there is injury your pardon Lord, where there is despair hope, where there is doubt faith. Let me not seek so much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as understand. To be loved as to love with all my sole’

Many people are familiar with the above canticle as the words are also in a hymn. Which is more like the sermon on the mount…’blessed are the peace maker’s for they shall find peace…’