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The Unhappy Hand of Caluda

By Dr.Claude Shema Rutagengwa (Norway)
www.glpn.org

Every single morning, with her mop in hand, she could never think about anything washing toilets, steps at the stadium, or the extravagant parking places all around Kristiania.

“ Could you please finish the cleaning up to the apartment No.32 in the Grunnerløkka area?”-The boss asked Caluda.

"Yes Sir!" Caluda replied with politeness.

Like many other foreigners living in Kristiania, she could not find any job within her career, as xenophobia in Kristinia was rising so high. Every single evening she could not lie down without shedding tears along her beautiful cheeks.

“Why are you crying a river, little girl?” I asked, for I was really concerned about her. She was working so hard and really overloaded. She was in her late 20’s, and very sharp.

“My friend, I left my home country and my little boy Veloda with his father  in my country, Easternland, dreaming that I could get a better job leading to a better life in Kristiania. I left everything including relatives, promising them that when I would come back to Easternland, they will enjoy my wealth forever. But my dreams seem to be embryonic, for no fruit has appeared in my dream…”

I could not let her finish her story, because she was already making a river of tears on her cheeks. I held her in my arms to let her feel relaxed and supported.
“What you have told me is enough, Caluda." I said. Just relax, and remember that any kind of little shadow of hope will lead you to the smiley day. Take this life as a springboard towards another better life….” I was trying to convince her!

She could not relax without having two or three different kinds of jobs, as she had to pay the rent, food and other expenses. Her last option was to work so hard, and working conditions sometimes were adverse. Sometimes she was tempted, and it was not easy for her to overcome, even though she did win that tiresome battle.

Another hindering fact was that she was a foreigner, living in Kristiania without a friend, no relatives, and nothing other than me as her periodical boyfriend. The back-fire of her sadness could echo in my mind all the time, and sometimes I had nightmares just connected to her future. Life was not easy for her!

One morning, lying down in Faggerborg Gate, she sent me a short message on my mobile phone. It is was amazing  to read!

“Honey, I’ve gotta tell you that you got a job!” It had a heart icon, meaning love, and a smiley face at the end of message. Since I had no too little credit in my mobile phone to reply, I did make a flash call to her.

She rang me back.

“Hello sweety!" I greeted her. "What kind of job did you find for me, my Queen?”

“Well, first of all, I have to admit one thing. Nobody in my entire life called me a Queen ,even my Ex never did. I am really impressed by your way of love. The job? Well, just the same as mine, we will be cleaning together. What a joy!…”

It was so wonderful to hear that I had a job, despite the quality of job itself. After hanging up the phone, I fell asleep again until she came back home at 16:00.
Hugging her as usual, and holding her soft body for a while, massaging her back for few minutes, I brought sandals to stimulate her relaxing evening.

In a fragment of a second, she shouted out loudly.

"What happened baby?" I asked.

"My hand is hurting me."

"Any injury from the job?"

"No. Not at all. It's just that my hand has gotten paralyzed and hurts me so much, without any reason.

"Oh sweet girl! Take it easy." I tried to calm her down!

My oily massage of her hand could not help shade the tears on her cheeks, and my love song couldn’t help either.

The last option was to go further and find out the root of that pain and paralysis which was impeding the well-being of the romantic evening between me and Caluda.

I asked her a couple of questions related to her unusual illness, but I could not solve the problem. Then I had to read into her face again, and finally I realized that she was working hard and gaining less. She was a well-educated and polite girl, but she was carrying a shameful job. In other word, she was not in the right place for her right personality.

For Caluda, there was no hope for tomorrow.

As days went and weeks came, the unhappy hand of Caluda never changed the rhythm despite hundreds of painkillers and other treatments from medics. Finally I urged her to take another chance and see if she could get a job which could at least fit into her mind, so that her psychological illness would get cured.

I kept my fingers crossed until she got a job based on periodical contact. She was working in normal conditions, and suddenly the unhappy hand of Caluda got better and better than ever.

Now she has the happiest hand again.

My prophetic perceptions came to an expected end.

                                           …X…