Stories that Make A Difference

  She was the girl at the bus stop. I saw her there every morning, as she waited for her school bus. She always stood there confidently, quietly, patiently waiting with her head held high. She didn’t need a crown to show her royalty. All eyes were already on her and she was aware, but she never budged. Light skinned she was, and fresh like the early morning dew. Her skin was so smooth, looking like she moisturized it with whole fat milk. Leaning sideways onto one leg and hands buried in the pockets of the skirt of her school uniform, she faced the rising sun that reflected its light on her face, spreading it to all that was within the reach of her radiance. I was only 15 years old but the memories have been triggered like it was yesterday. That’s all I remember seeing, but I heard more in the following years to come. Baby Steps I heard tales of a beautiful, proud, elegant young girl casually cat walking as it drizzled on the tarmac road between the lush green trees of Kiyo...

  Hi. My name is “Number 7,” or “The Last One.” Well, at least that’s what I assume since I am the last of mummy’s new litter. I am one of its four males and the one that boasts the largest paws according to most of the human visitors that came to see us on the daily. I wear a smooth coat of black on my back, with brown legs and eyebrows, and a hint of white on my neck and belly. I am what they call a German Shepherd. I was born about three years ago; about two and a half months in human age. I’d never felt as cold and unsafe until I first landed on this earth. THUD, I fell off my mother’s womb from the warmth and comfort of her placenta, to the dirt on what would soon be my playground for the first critical years of my life. There, I met my siblings; all clean and pampered, left in a bundle to dry from what I believe was a bath they had been given. That must be what mummy was doing when she licked my whole body clean before lying sideways, exposing her full breasts which she pat...

  “We regret to inform you that your application for permanent residence in Canada has been rejected,” the letter read, “You are required to report to Toronto Pearson International Airport by 10:00 a.m. on Thursday 21st November, 2014. Failure to do so will result in a Canada wide warrant for your arrest.” Jeremiah was devastated after he read the letter he found in the brown envelope stuck on the front door to the house that had been his home for the past six months, in Whitby, Ontario, Canada. His spirit was crushed after having a day full of joy fueled by positivity, anticipating the favorable answer he had been waiting for since his court date a month before, to argue his case trying to attain a permanent residence visa that would allow him to chase his passion, Music. “God has my back,” he had never doubted, “I will get that visa. I will work and study here, before I move back home, to Rwanda.” But, God had other plans for him. It all started back in the year 2013. He was...