My shallow lachrymal canal gave way to a deluge with stuffy nose choking my breath in between reading. As if silent suffering and the pang and pain won't hold the secret anymore, I did bawl forgetting that my daughter was with me doing her thing on the computer.
"What's wrong Mum?" I bolted by her question. "Ha"? That's how oblivious of my present state I was as I closed the magazine.
It was a story of five orphaned children. The eldest is 17 and is left with a huge task of looking after her siblings aged: 15, 11, 8 and 5 years old respectively.
The judge ruled out a murder-suicide. Devastating as the situation was, the father of the children killed himself when he found his epileptic wife dead. He decided to take his life to be with his wife and told his eldest girl not to abandon her sisters and brother should something would happen to him.
With a tragedy like this, the community gathered to give their support more than just mourning with the family who are too young to live on their own. They live on a property with cows, horses, goats, dogs, cats, chicken, geese amongst others to take care for.
A family member from the city moved to be near them so they could keep an eye on them. The children hold fast to stay where they are. The neighbours and the whole community were behind them.
My tears won't stop. I'd rather stop here before I cause flood in my home.
