I was attentive to the food, eating it so It wouldn't get
cold but at the same time my ears were highly attentive,
listening for snippets of their hushed conversation at the
other side of the thin curtains which we used as a door. I
watched as my siblings ate, my younger sisters sluggish
movements as she lifted the spoon to her lips with the
same effort as it took to lift a bucket of water. Ruth was
not the biggest fan of beans but knew she would be in
trouble if she skipped out on dinner. On the other side of
me David was eating quickly, taking advantage of Ruth's
sluggishness as he planned on filling his stomach. They
were both young and exposed, exposed to the struggles
which came with an underprivileged life but still unaware
of their surroundings. They didn't feel the unease in the
air, the uncertainty that this strange woman had brought
along with her.

Having enough of the hot beans, I stared out into the
other room where my mother and the woman were
seated. I took in her appearance which was partly
shielded by the darkness but some parts were illuminated
by the lantern. Her body was covered up by a dark blue
top, wrapper and a head wrap which sat atop her curly
black wig. Time passed and they all went to sleep, I
stared out of the window as a slight breeze brought in a
coolness to fight the heat in the room along with the
familiar high pitched buzzing of mosquitos eager for
victims.

My mother had said this woman was an important visitor,
that she was the key to a better life for all of us and thus
should be regarded highly. The woman did not come
empty handed and brought gifts of a small bag of rice
and vegetables, something we looked happily at because
it was nearly christmas and all we had in the kitchen was
a small nylon bag filled with weevil infested beans and a
small jar of salt. We would've had to manage this until the
end of the year, because mama had to pay for Ruth and
David's school fees. With the introduction of the rice we
would be able to have a good end to the year.
In the morning my mother revealed to me what had been
discussed. The mysterious woman had been long gone
but it was revealed that she would be back soon, but she
would be taking me with her the next time. I was going to
have the opportunity to further my education in exchange
for working for a family in the city and the woman was a
family friend who had come to know of my plight. My
mother was a widow as our father passed away from an
illness several years ago and his death had opened up
the wickedness in the hearts of men, characterised in the
form of the ill treatment we received from his side of the
family.

We couldn't access much help from my mothers side as
most of her family had deserted her due to the man she
had chosen to marry, amongst other issues. My mother
had fought like a lion, her will to survive awakened by the
hardships she faced to this day. The soft exterior was
gone and she pushed all of us to do our best at whatever
we put our hands to. She had done everything she could
to get us all an education, ignoring the people who said
that educating female children was all futile because
marrying us off would get more money. She had hawked,
sold her most valuable items, begged and borrowed just
to be able to keep us alive and educated.

I was to go along with this woman to the city just before
the New Year began and although It pained me that I
would be leaving the life I knew behind I saw that it would
be a chance to help my family and lift up the financial
burden from the slumped over shoulders of my mother.
Staring into her tired eyes which had dark bags under
them, I caught a glimpse of the woman buried within, she
let out a small smile. I took in her lanky appearance which
resulted from skipping on a few meals, her brown skinned
face characterised by worry lines and frown lines at the
sides of her full lips.

Her hands once soft were hardened by work, and her skin
bore the marks of hardship, scars from injuries both
inflicted by my father and by the intensity of her work. Her
baggy pink top was faded from too many washes with
Omo detergent, and so was the blue patterned wrapper
which was loosely hanging off her waist, thin hair braided
into cornrows which were becoming messy and half
covered by a head wrap. She was my mother, and now I
had the responsibility of making sure she never had to
worry too much.

In the last few days I spent with my family I took in our
village with a renewed appreciation. I would miss the
small houses with chickens and goats walking freely
around, the farms full of corn and cassava amongst other
things. I had taken my first steps as a child on the orange
earth, and could replay my laughter with my friends as we
climbed up the large mango trees that seemed to be in
every second compound. I would miss my house the
most, the place I had known all my sixteen years of living.
Our home was a faded blue boys quarters building we co-
owned, with a large mango tree in front, further decorated
by purple hibiscus bushes which served as a border
around the house.
Behind the house was a large plot of farming land, a
small portion which belonged to our family while our
neighbours owned the rest. I could picture myself sitting
outside with my mother as the sun was setting and her
hands made intricate braids in my hair preparing me for
another few months of school. She would sing to me and
sometimes tell stories and we would laugh while David
and Ruth played with the other children from the
community just outside our compound. I would miss the
days where I would return in my blue and grey uniform
from school to my mother who would be waiting for me,
the smell of food permeating through the air.
I sat under a mango tree discussing with my friend Chichi
who hung unto every word I said, jealousy flashing in her
eyes as she wished she was in my position.

"I've heard many things about the city. It's not like this
place where the roads are bad and the only fast thing we
see are bicycles and sometimes okadas (motorcycles). It
has big buildings taller than palm trees and there are a lot
of people there. You're so lucky! So one day you'll come
back to the village and I won't even recognise you," Chichi
said with awe and longing in her voice as I simply smiled.
I was going to be leaving the next day, and a boulder of
nervousness was resting in the pit of my stomach.
Inside, my bags were already packed because I didn't
have much in the first place. I just had a small pink
Ghana-must-go which held three skirts, five tops, two
scarves and three pairs of shoes, two of which my mother
had bought using the money the mysterious woman had
given her. I was given a lecture about how I should
always be a good girl and hold unto God so that this
opportunity wouldn't be wasted. This caused my
nervousness to further grow. So many of my schoolmates
and neighbours visited and gave me things if they had any
as a farewell gift and I gave some of the stuff to my
mother and siblings.

Later that night as I looked at my last moonlight through
the old wooden windows in our room while David's light
snores broke the blanket of silence, Ruth crawled up next
to me and rested her skinny arms on the window sill,
sadness clearly on her face.

"When are you going to come back sister?" I looked at
her young worried face, smiling slightly. Ruth and I were
very close and had shared a lot of memories together, our
relationship strengthened by the hardships life had thrown
at our family.
"I don't know, but I hope it will be soon," I said trying to
reassure her when really I struggled to convince myself
about what the future held. She let out a sigh and
slumped her shoulders.

"I wish I could come with you to the city, I don't want to
be in this village suffering. I'm tired of everything,"
"Don't say that, just keep praying and focusing on school
and everything will be good at the end of the day," We sat
in silence, both staring out at the moon and its ability to
throw a blanket of silence over our neighbourhood apart
from the occasional bleating of goats.

The next morning the woman came at dusk but I was
ready for her. I had been shaken out of my sleep at 4 by
my mother who urged me to take a bath then prayed for
me after giving me some bread and tea. I walked next to
the woman who was still covered up, the cool morning
breeze hitting my face as I stared back at the last memory
I would have of my home for a while. My mother stood at
the front of the house just at the gap in between the
hibiscus bushes with my brother and sister by her side,
waving as a tear slid down her cheek.
We continued to walk until we reached a big road where
we caught an okada to a small bus park which was
already busy with people who were about to travel to
different states seated at different areas. I walked with
the woman towards the one scheduled for the big city
and we sat in the plastic chairs in silence. I took in the
environment, the sky gradually getting lighter and the
silhouettes of young hawker children trying to sell food to
the travellers who were about to embark on a 9+ hour
long trip. We finally boarded the small white hilux bus
where we were seated all the way at the pack in a tight
space taken up by other passengers and large bags
holding goods. I was next to the window, and stared out
at it just as someone said a short prayer. The bus began
to move just as the sun began to rise, and I said goodbye
to the life I had known, moving further and further into
uncertainty.

TO be continued