We were at Mass when the priest announced,

“Everybody, please go home, curfew is taking place immediately”.

We hurried home.

All were accounted for, except my father.

Much to our relief, he finally made it home.

Early next morning,  when it was still dark outside,

a loud eerie voice disrupted our sleep.

It was a loudspeaker from a van announcing 

That the curfew was continuing until further notice.

The voice sent chills through us.

However, curfew meant no school.

We were very happy with that and played inside our yard.

It was not as much fun for Ma.

We were not prepared for a lock down.

“Ah Mu, could you sell us some vegetables?” Ma asked.

Ah Mu gave us some Chinese chives instead.

She had a garden full of vegetables.

Our other neighbor, a young couple, gave us a tray of eggs.

But what we remembered was the salted fish.

We did have that.

Ma steamed it.

It was a small piece only,

The flesh was soft, powdery and very salty.

Eaten with plain white rice, it was sooo good,

We remember it to this day.

A few days of curfew and most households ran out of food.

“This is ridiculous,” a group of men gathered,

“Our families are hungry, we need food.

Let’s go, what can they do to us?”

They got ready to go out.

I joined them, cycling to the store on my bicycle.

A store opened its door slightly, for us to shop.

There I was, a skinny fourteen year old girl,

shopping together with a few grown men.

The remarkable thing was, none of them found it unusual,

Or asked me what I was doing there.

I loaded my bicycle with some canned food and cycled home.