WAKASHIO the book

 WAKASHIO, A STORYBOOK FOR CHILDREN.

ABOUT THE STORY

MV WAKASHIO , a Japanese- owned bulk carrier ran aground on the coral reefs, off the coast of the tropical island Mauritius, on 25 July 2020.

Wakashio was empty of cargo but had an estimated 200 tons of diesel and 3,800 tons of heavy fuel oil on board.

Little by little, with the strength of the heavy waves, cracks arose in its hull. Fuel oil started to spill on the turquoise blue sea of the coastal district, Mahebourg. In no time, the oil spill reached its shores, destroying marine life, seaweeds, and corals.

The inhabitants ran to the rescue of the lagoon. They made floating booms with sugar cane straw to absorb the oil. In the meantime, foreign help was sought by the Government of Mauritius to block the catastrophic flood of oil from the hull of Wakashio to the sea.

On Assumption Day 2020, Wakashio broke into two. The authorities estimated that it would take decades to tow the two fragmented parts of the ship. Finally, the bow part of Wakashio was sunk in the deep ocean, far from Mauritius. It was also decided that the stern part of the ship that was stuck in the reefs would take decades to tow back. It remained as the remnant of a shipwreck in the lagoon, in the southeast of the green island.

MV WAKASHIO

The story here is told from the perspective of two Mauritian children, Angela and Oshin.

WAKASHIO the children’s book

INSPIRATION TO WRITE THE STORYBOOK.

Earlier this year, I started a campaign to urge young Mauritian children to read books. 

By coincidence, MV WAKASHIO met with a terrible accident at sea and it became the talk of the town in Mauritius and in the whole world. Social media wrote about the shipwreck and posted pictures of the sinking ship.

It dawned upon me to write the story of the Wakashio for children. I felt deep inside that it was a subject that will draw the attention of children, they will pick up the book and they will start to read.

Reading books and listening to stories stimulates the imagination of children.

As Albert Einstein has wisely said-

Imagination is more important than knowledge,

For knowledge is limited,

Whereas imagination embraces the whole world,

Stimulates progress, giving birth to evolution.

I strongly believe that children of all ages should read books and good books. In this age of electronic books, it is much better for parents to encourage a child to read traditional paper books, that he can carry and read every he goes – under a tree in the garden, on the lap of his mom… even where there is no electricity or an internet connection.

Reading books starts at home. First by a mother or a grandmother reading to a child, then by an elder brother or sister reading to a child and finally by a child  reading a book by himself.

Salman Rushdie, the world acclaimed bestseller author says –

When a child is born, there are two things that he requires – LOVE AND SAFETY;

The next thing the child says is –

TELL ME A STORY.

Undoubtedly stories are an important part of our adult life; without them life is boring. Most of all, children love stories as dearly as they love toys and games. 

My mother was an excellent storyteller. I vividly remember the story of Cinderella and Prince Charming  as concocted and told by her when I was a kid. I bemused at her facial expressions and her body movements. I traveled to fairyland, wonderland, to faraway places; I fought with dragons; I talked to birds, rats, rabbits, and other animals.

Mostly, I started to daydream of Prince Charming. Often I took a broom, bigger than myself and arduously swept the kitchen. All the time, I kept an eye on the big pumpkin that mom kept in a corner of the kitchen, wishing that it would explode and Prince Charming would jump out.

From listening to stories, and putting myself in the shoes of Cinderella, I very rapidly developed a fondness for books. From reading books, I gradually started to write stories.

WAKASHIO is my new storybook for children and my first book in French. Mauritian children are more familiar with the French language, oral and written; I have written this book primarily for them.

It is legitimate for writers to remember that children are the adults of tomorrow. They should be made aware of the important happenings of their country and the consequences of their acts from an early age. Wakashio is a tale that relates the story of the wreck of MV Wakashio in pure and simple prose, illustrated by amazing color pictures. 

Anita Bacha

My Newborn

A mother will take you under her wings, even when you know how to fly – my quote.

I don’t know how true it is for you. For me, I always come to the help of my grown up children even when they refuse my help. A child remains a child for a mom even when he is an old man and a great granddad. I refer to child as a male because I have only boys and four of them.

I remember telling them stories, mostly imaginative, when they were very small. Later and now, I tell stories to my grandchildren.

Even later and as far back as last year, I wrote my first story book for children, The Princess and the Crow.

A few months ago, I conceived the idea of a new, illustrated book for children. I am expecting to deliver the book any time now.

A book is like a child to me. I have in all ten children, four biological children and six books. Awaiting the birth of a book gives me the same anxiety problems, coupled with short breath, cold sweat, loss of appetite and loose bowels.

Most of all, I am on top of the world as a creative writer and a mother.

Writers write because there have something deep inside their guts that they need to bring out.

My advice to writers is to write and write until you bring out what is inside you.

Anita Bacha

SOUL POETRY

SOUL POETRY -Inspirational Poems, Verses and Quotes is a collection of poems, verses and quotes which driven by wild waves of inspiration I wrote over the past five years. I am not a full time writer or poet. I only write when I am inspired and words start to flow from my pen like drops of nectar on a starve parchment.

The main subject of my poetry, my verses and quotes is Love. Here, I must tell my readers to appreciate that there is only One Love whether it is maternal love, physical love, obsessive love, infatuation or spiritual love to name a few. My book also covers different aspects of human relationships, and different themes from flowers to butterflies. Being a woman, when I write about a lover, I am writing about a man. So you will find a few poems very audacious. I have never found it challenging to write love poems about men. They deserve to be admired and their charms must be carved on paper and for eternity, recognizing that the body is mere rust and dust; the soul is eternal. Behind my every poem, there lies a story.
Anita Bacha

Marrons Glacés 🌰

The woody scent of roast chestnuts fills my whole being again, after decades and so far away from Europe; I am at One Utama shopping mall in Kuala Lumpur; memories of my student days flashed in front of my open eyes like a collage of eventful occurrences.

It was my first winter in London.

In those times,the days were extremely short and dark.Snow piled up in heaps on both sides of the roads as my friend,Baba, and I struggled to pave our way to Holborn tube station.
Curbed into two,shivering under my winter coat, a whiff of browning nuts made me jerk. I turned to my friend and asked –
” What’s the scent?’
“Roasting chestnuts” he replied, as he gestured with his chin at a black silhouette in the corner of the street.
I could vaguely make out,in the distance,a man or a woman, shabbily dressed, occupied in front of a stove of burning charcoals.A light smoke raised as a cloudy mist around the stove, danced playfully in the icy air.
We crossed the road.
The alluring scent of roast chestnuts swelled my nostrils.
Baba bought a small paper bag of piping hot chestnuts and ceremoniously offered it to me.
I tasted the first roast chestnut of my life and I spontaneously became fond of this soft and delightful delicacy.

Baba took up a job at Knightsbridge for end of term and Christmas vacation.
Among other lovely Christmas gifts, which he offered to me,I found a luxuriously wrapped box of ‘marrons glacés’ from Harrods.

After our law studies, we parted. We did not keep in touch but I still love chestnuts,roasted,candied or steamed.

It’s amazing how the sound of music or the whiff of a scent can bring to our mind souvenirs of cherished instances that we carry inside us and which,possibly none of us actually knows is there.

Anita Bacha

Marrons Glacés

Autumn Vibes

Sunrise, the highlight

Of this glorious morning,

Sparkles autumn leaves

The rain is falling,

Various ducks swim languidly,

On the swollen pond.

Brittle and fragile,

The tree releases the leaves,

They blow in the wind.

A walk in the park,

Brings back memories of you,

So far yet,so near.

End of October,

A yellow maple leaf falls,

Turns to syrup brown.

Autumn vibes are haikus I’ve written during the past few weeks,and sharing here. I am living on an island actually and here, we have only two seasons,summer and winter.Haiku poetry tickles the imagination and haiku lovers will find in these haiku poems illustrated with pictures, how very far the mind can travel, create and produce.

With love ❤️

Anita Bacha

Contemplation

May this waiting draw to a close, my love!
That very soon we are united at last,
In a mad and passionate hug;
My heart shall beat with your heart,
Away our tears shall flow in abundant joy,
Shall wet our parched lips of the grief,
Of the pain of thirsting desires;
That blessed under a starry night sky,
Your breath shall melt with my breath,
My eyes bathe in the clear pond of your gaze;
Swept into the furrows of time and space,
We forget the world, the universe, the Creator himself,
We forget the intense longing,
We forget the slow suffering,
That shall exist for us only our guiltless love!
Anita Bacha

Pure Love 💕

True to His Word

True to his word,

He was there, in the park,

Waiting for her,

She halted, looked around,

His words echoed in her ears,

In the morning gentle zephyr,

‘I will be there!’

‘I will be there for you!’

He cried out,

Last time they met and parted;

Stoic, handsome and shy,

Greener against the blue sky,

He smiled under its vast parasol;

The sight of him warmed her heart;

They talked,

They had so much to say to each other;

Then they fell into a deep silence,

It was not love,

It was not happiness,

It was a soul connection.

Anita Bacha

A tree