No Woman No Cry by Rita Marley

Author:Rita Marley
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Hyperion

I’d been alone with the kids much of the time when Bob went off into his “I don’t know” program. There were many lonely days and nights. Of course, Aunty came regularly if I needed to go somewhere and couldn’t take Stephen, and sometimes she’d stay overnight if it got late. Friends helped out with the heavy stuff, like bringing water from the main community pipe. I needed a lot of water, because I was determined to plant a garden. The soil in the yard was poor, largely sandy soil from the seabed. People told me, “Ah you’re crazy, you can’t plant there.” But I said, “Wait, I’m gonna show you.” And the expression on their faces when they saw my collards, my spinach, my papayas!

In later years, when I was touring, I’d bring all kinds of things home. Each time I’d go somewhere I couldn’t wait to return because I’d be carrying this or that to my home to do this, do that. It had room for improvement! I built a veranda, and a wall around the property, and planted a lawn for the kids, where they’d play gunfight, or dollhouse, or school (with Sharon as teacher), or something that involved tree climbing—it seemed as if they were always doing something. And Aunty would teach them songs just as she had taught me. Just to see them thriving in the clear air and space—at last out of that one little room in Trench Town—was enough to convince me that coming to Bull Bay had been the right move. I still give thanks to Gabby for it.

Windsor Lodge was real homey, and I think of it that way even now, I guess because it was my first home and has a lot of sentiment to it. Which is why I can’t give it up—recently I called my lawyer to ask, “Where is the title to Windsor Lodge?” He called me back and said, “It’s here, Mrs. Marley, you have the title, you still own that property.” It’s such a nice place and sometimes I think I should refurbish it—even the mango tree is still there and bearing. In any case, I can’t let it go. My kids are fond of it too; it holds a lot of memories for all of us. After they grew up and started to earn money, Ziggy and Steve built an adjoining place on the property where they still come to relax. “Oh Mommy,” they tell me, “out there it’s so nice, that’s where we go when we want to meditate on something.” So when people say to me, why don’t you just sell it, get rid of it, you don’t need it, I say no, no, no. This was my beginning—how could you want to sell your beginning?

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