I did not know what to write, I had always searched for the right story everywhere in mind. Then my mother woke me up. It was midnight and the whole village was sleeping.

“Listen…” she whispered to my ear, and I waited for her to talk; she did not.

I thought my ear was not cleaned enough, so I cleaned it again and I waited, and still my mother said no word. I used to be impatient when it came about listening, but my mother’s smile could turn a burning heart into an enchanted garden. Yes, my mother’s smile could.

“Keep calm…” she whispered with that same smile.

I tried but there was that thought; my girlfriend would come for a visit tomorrow, so I kept picturing the lovely day we would spend together. My paper was still white and empty, and the night would end.

“Keep calmer…” again did she whispered.

I thought of a mighty sun that would wipe out the face of my girlfriend and leave an empty room. The room got emptied, and the sun was so mighty that no other image could set a foot in. I was sweating, because of the effort I had to make to fight the first word that would make my story.

“Calmer and calmer…” tenderly she whispered.

I was getting too tired, for the right word was not coming. Then I heard a crow from a distance.  “A crow… I thought, what is a crow doing there at this time of the night?” The lonely crow kept calling, no fellow replied. “Is the crow calling?” I asked myself, without thinking of it; I was still waiting for my mother to talk to me. She did not, only the voice of the crow flew in the darkness.

Then I saw the sunlight growing weaker. A little wind caressed my body and dried it and relaxed my mind, I felt a warm hand touching my wrist; when everything go in a deep darkness in my mind, I heard the voice of the crow closer, no longer calling with that dreadful voice, but telling a story with sweetness and harmony.

“I’m inspired!” I screamed with my heart, and my softened wrist started to write the words that where silently coming along.

I knew I had the right story, and that is how I got inspired. It was not the most beautiful story on earth, but it was a perfect one. I looked for my mother in the bed, and I could find her nowhere. My mother was out, not trying to manage a sleepless night; my mother was in her grave managing a sleepless life. And only my writings would take her to Peace.



My name is Théodore René Ndebi, born in Cameroon. I graduated in Banking Management. But what really makes me proud and happy is WRITING !!!!! I started writing around 1990. I write the most I can.

I mostly write for children’s future. As a child, I had always dreamt of a world where poor children and orphans could be happy as well. I have many unpublished collections in French: Chaque Jour Un Poème, Rêve D’un Soir, La Missive Du Petit Prince, Suis-Je Assez Bien Pour Toi… I’m also author of unpublished novels in French (Cierge Noir, Plus Violent Que L’amour, Les Fruits De La Tempête…). My first published novel; THE LAST GHOST/Son Of Struggle got published in 2013 by AuthorhouseUK; it appears in the LOS Angeles Times Festival Of Books Catalogue 2014 Page 8. Available online @ Amazon, Kindle, AuthorhouseUK, Barnes & Noble, Indie. I wrote numerous award winning texts. I am a Book Reviewer and Translator. I am a member of OneAfricanChild since 2013 and Co-Founder of Le Salon Du Livre Yaounde-Cameroon. You can check my works on: Ndebi on Facebook, @RTNdebi on Twitter, Facebook Page My Soul & Mon Ame.




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