Hello guys!

Remember Baby Baby from last week? This is the second part. 


If you missed the first one, you can read it here.

Enjoy :)

***

But mother I won’t be alone
Other children will go with me
And march the streets of Birmingham
To make our country free!

But mother I won’t be alone
Other children will go with me
No, Baby.
No, you may not go
For I fear those guns will fire
But you may go to Church instead,
And sing in the children’s choir

***
She wasn't letting me leave. 

Even with my persistence. I had almost resolved to sit in when my tricks didn't seem to be working on Mama. Brilliant woman that she was, she suddenly suggests I went to church – where she thought I’d be safe. That was at least where there wasn't any form of segregation.

I could feel the sadness from right inside her pupils.



Poor Mama. Her heart was heavy and the fear sneered through enough for my little eyes to see. She was actually letting me go – into God’s arms – to sing rather than march with my peers on the streets of Birmingham. Stubborn as I was - and hell bent to make it outside, I resolve to "Sing to the Lord"

If only she knew the effect of her idea. She had a tad bit of hope, but looked like it was gone in seconds and back in a flash. Of course I was going to Church, lift up my eyes to the hills and sing my heart out. I was going to sing in no way I had ever sang. I was going to round every muscle and bone in my body up and shout out to Him...To sing...

...With the other children.

***
P.S: Thanks for reading Baby Baby #1. Sincerely Appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this one? Tell me how  below!





This was inspired by my secondary school's song book (Called Merry Mayflower). It's an account (in form of a song) of a little girl's experience during the Birmingham March of 1963. I wrote short stories at the end of each verse to the song. This is the first one. Enjoy...

***
Mother dear, may I go down town
Instead of out to play?
And march the streets of Birmingham
In the freedom march today?

Mother dear, may I go down town
Instead of how to play?
No, Baby.
No, you may not go
For I fear those guns are fierce
And clubs and hoses, guns and jails
Aren't good for a little child

***
I felt a ting of frustration, as even batting my eyelashes didn't help this time. My mother always had that soft heart for me – after all, I was her only child. She loved me so much that she had put up a strong fight with my dad not to name me. She preferred to call me Baby.

We hadn't heard any noises, but we sure got news of the peaceful walk going sour. I felt the need to be there. To march with my mates for this freedom that had seemed unattainable for a long time. I was just 10, and I already knew my contribution was needed for the freedom of my people. Mama didn't want me to leave – of course she wouldn't – she definitely didn't want to risk losing me. 

Maybe I didn't know how scary it was to see your child hell bent on going somewhere because I wasn't a mother; I just felt I had to be out there. I had to be with the other children. I had seen Heather's signature hat right from my window. She was in company of two others - whom I knew so well - they were my other friends, Reese and Montana. We did everything together, but not this one. Mama had failed to even let them in.


She wasn't letting me leave.


source
Sometimes, mostly even - "what ifs" hinders us from taking a step and before you know, time has passed so much, you realize you could've achieved something with that time lost, no matter how little it was.

Just do it! Like Nike...hehe

Have a yummy week ahead!
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