When I was very young.. less than 10 years old, I’ve experience my first close encounter with house fires. Young as I may be, I remember carry as much as my small arms can carry (clothes, school books, small appliances) to my parents’ “ninong” who lives the street across from our compound.
The fire started from a couple of very small cluster of houses at the back of our house. It started with a candle left un attended. Luckily, there was just a gap between those houses and ours (plus the wind was not blowing to the direction of our house). A lot of houses were burned down that time… As improvement, those cluster of houses built a cement wall dividing their house from ours.
Yesterday 1:00am, I received a call from my dad saying that our area was on fire! Having a long day, I said a quick prayer and trusted that all would be OK. As I drifted to sleep, I made provisions already in my head what I will do if worst would happen… get a plane ticket the next working day, talk to my bosses, go back home…find a rental apartment for my parents……..
Waking up 9am sunday, I called home. My parents, brother..and the rest of our house is safe. Cutting through the excitement where the fire fighters had to cross over our house roof to get to the burning cluster of houses, it was the “cement wall” that eventually save our ancestral wooden house from harm.
It was quite an event I’m presuming for it to be part of “Breaking News” of that day.
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