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Concept of the month December 2010: HEN HOUSE

In my auntie’s garden, you could pick the raspberries right off their bushes. This was quite a treat when playing football on the grass next to them. I loved staying there. Across the garden from the bushes, there was a hen house.

Whenever I stayed with her, my aunt would send me out to collect the fresh eggs in the morning. Solemn music would then rise from the hen house, consisting of slowly surging tones that would rise and drop in one fluent sequence. When I fed the chickens, they would rush over to the grains, look back at me with a worried look in their eyes. I would step out and squat down to watch them eat.

Meanwhile, based on the principle of: “Come here, my child, you need a good meal,” my aunt was busy preparing an extensive breakfast. The table would be filled with healthy delicacies, ranging from homemade raspberry jam to fresh omelette.

I returned to this garden at the beginning of this month. It was quiet and empty. No sign of the hen house. Solemn music rose from inside. I stopped. It started snowing.

That evening, I, in my capacity of football trainer, put my ladies team through the paces in our weekly training session. As they defied the freezing wind, their cackling was smothered by the snow. My mind wandered off to my aunt’s hen house.



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