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The tremor

Kiko was standing, guarding his goal post. He buried his toes in the dried mud scorched by
the mighty sun; anticipating the rival’s team next move. Beads of sweat slid from his forehead
to his pointy chin as Mark, a player from the opposite team charged to Kiko’s post. Kiko’s
heart raced, adrenaline rushed through his veins. Not wasting any time, Kiko plunged towards
Mark but Mark was very agile. He dodged a now falling Kiko and scored a goal. There were
screams of joy and sighs of agony. Kiko was embarrassed.

He sat on the hot muddy road where the game transpired soaking in sweat. “Good game,
Kiko!” Mark said smugly, as he walked by. “You just not a good goalkeeper!” Kiko ignored the
remark as he stood up, dusted himself off and prepared to walk home. He lived only a few
streets away and was anxious to gorge on some of his mother’s delicious pork pie. After all it
was already lunch. Kiko didn’t care about a rematch to him a hot plate of food was better
than an intense game of football.

As he walked down the streets, Kiko whistled a merry tune: the only thoughts in his head
being that delicious pork pie. He had not a care in the world, until he felt a slight vibration in
the ground. He ignored it, like everyone else in Claude-lee Street. But the vibrations
increased in volume, getting louder and louder. Kiko looked down at the shaking ground,
picking up the pace as he ran towards home. He knew what this was – a tremor!

Suddenly, the two-floor wooden and concrete constructs that populated the village slowly
began to collapse. Kiko saw one such home crumble with the owner still inside. Amidst the
chaos and panic, Kiko heard that person scream. Dust and fragments of debris floated in the
air as villagers rushed about in anarchy, shouting and screaming at the top of their lungs. Kiko
paid no heed to the confusion. He didn’t care about some house collapsing on some poor old
woman. He wanted to reach home and see his mother and baby brother.

Kiko was almost home. The street where his home was, was an absolute catastrophe like
everywhere else. By this time the tremors were over. Kiko rushed over to his home now out
of breath and sweating even more profusely. It was a collapse structure. Only one question
lingered on his mind. Where is mama and Niko? He looked around the debris of wood and
glass and zinc. Kiko felt a heaviness in his throat and chest. He didn’t know what to do. The
village was silent, the screams dying down. Kiko fell to his knees, his face was blank. Then,
out of the silence, he heard crying and recognized the voice instantly. It was Niko’s.

Kiko ran about the debris, using whatever juvenile strength he had to lift and toss. He
followed the sound closely as he rummaged through pieces of wood. Eventually Kiko
uncovered a piece of zinc shielding the sound. He was right. It was Niko. However, Niko didn’t
stop crying. Kiko lifted the infant in his arms, trying to console him.

“shh. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be alright. We just got to find mama”. Kiko walked away from
the collapsed house. He seated himself on a tire, his left hand under his chin with Niko lying
between his lap and right arm. Kiko gazed into the scene of their destroyed home. He
wondered where was his mother. He didn’t know what to do his face was blank.