My bedroom has a decent sized balcony and I’ve put here a wooden bench that was being eaten by termites in the garden and a few plants that are low maintenance because I don’t make it a habit to sit here or open the doors everyday. Right below the balcony is a jasmine plant that smells wonderful with scents wafting into my bedroom when in bloom.
The view is not as panoramic as it was about six years ago when I first moved into this house. From my balcony I could see the landing lights at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. At night, that part of the sky would be eerily well lit and bright and during a blackout it would seem like a space ship was landing there.
Over the years, houses started popping up right in front of my home and now all I see is rooftops of other peoples’ homes instead of the open space I used to. Even then it doesn’t stop me from sitting outside after the kids have gone to sleep and enjoy the cool air every now and then. I used to love to sit here and read a book but these days I sit here and think. Other times, when it is raining especially, I sit out here and cry my eyes out, allowing the rain to cleanse my soul from the pain and distressed emotions I might be feeling. It’s therapeutic to be able to sob in the rain – you can’t tell your tears from the raindrops on your face.
The scent of the jasmine flowers invoke tranquility in me. It is the scent of comfort because when I sit outside and cry my pain away I go inside feeling a lot better, hopeful that the next day will bring in better times for me. So for me, the scent of jasmine flowers is tied to hope and a new day bringing me a chance to start all over again. The only thing is that sometimes it gets hard to realise this opportunity and it’s back to the balcony sniffing in the hope and optimism these flowers tend to offer me.