Eighteen
593 Words
Broken Inside, Strong Outside
The house in Accra changed after that day.
Not suddenly.
But noticeably.
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Mr Matey became stricter.
Quieter.
More watchful.
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Rules were set.
Clear.
Firm.
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And for the first time—
Evans Matey appeared to obey.
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He stayed home.
Helped when told.
Spoke less.
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“I’m changing,” he said one evening.
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Mr Matey didn’t respond.
He just watched.
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Because deep down—
He wasn’t convinced.
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And he was right.
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Because Evans wasn’t changing.
He was pretending.
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The moment the house was empty—
Everything shifted.
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One afternoon, when Mr Matey had traveled and Mrs Matey went out, Evans moved quickly.
Changed clothes.
Checked around.
Then slipped out.
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Not to anywhere meaningful.
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But to the ghetto.
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A place far from rules.
Far from expectations.
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Where he could be himself.
Carefree.
Reckless.
Lost.
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Laughter.
Music.
Bad company.
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Evans smiled again.
Not because he was happy—
But because he was escaping.
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While he wasted himself outside—
Inside the house, another story unfolded.
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Afia sat on her bed.
Silent.
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Everything that had happened still weighed on her.
Mrs Matey’s words.
The tension.
The feeling of being unwanted.
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Her chest tightened.
And for the first time in a long while—
She broke.
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Tears fell freely.
Uncontrolled.
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“I didn’t do anything wrong…” she whispered.
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The door opened gently.
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Eva Matey stepped in.
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She saw everything.
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Without a word, she walked over and sat beside Afia.
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“It’s okay,” she said softly.
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Afia shook her head.
“No… it’s not…”
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Eva pulled her into a hug.
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“You’ve been strong for too long,” she whispered.
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That was all it took.
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Afia cried harder.
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Not just for now.
But for everything.
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Her father.
Her struggles.
Her pain.
Her silence.
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Eva held her through it all.
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“You’re not alone,” she said.
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And for the first time—
Afia believed it.
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Days later—
Something unexpected happened.
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“Pack your things,” Mr Matey told Afia.
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Her heart skipped.
“Sir?”
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“You’re going home,” he said gently. “To visit your family.”
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Afia froze.
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Home.
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Boame Village.
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Tears filled her eyes instantly.
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The journey felt different this time.
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Not scary.
Not uncertain.
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But emotional.
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When she arrived—
She didn’t walk.
She ran.
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“Ma!” she called.
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Pomaa turned.
For a moment—
She didn’t believe it.
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Then—
“Afia!”
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They rushed into each other’s arms.
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Tears.
Laughter.
Relief.
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Ama and Adwoa screamed with joy.
Kofi clung to her again.
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“You’ve grown!” Ama said.
“You look different!” Adwoa added.
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Afia smiled through tears.
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For that moment—
Everything felt right again.
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Peaceful.
Real.
Home.
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But even in that happiness—
She knew something.
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She didn’t fully belong here anymore.
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And she didn’t fully belong in the city either.
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She was in between.
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Changing.
Growing.
Becoming.
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As the sun set over Boame Village, Afia sat quietly outside.
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She looked at the sky.
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“I will make this worth it,” she whispered.
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Because her journey was not just about surviving anymore—
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It was about becoming something greater.
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