THE GIRL WHO SOLD HER LAST DRESSES

Chapter 1 The rain had been falling since midnight. It came down heavily, beating against the rusty roof of the small room Amara called home. Water slipped through several holes in the roof and dropped into old cooking pots that had been strategically placed around the room. Drip. Drip. Drip. Amara sat on the edge of a thin mattress, staring at the rain through the broken window. She was twenty-seven years old. She had a university degree. She had graduated with excellent grades. She had applied for more jobs than she could remember. She had attended interviews where people looked at her CV, smiled politely, and promised to call. They never did. Her life had become a cycle of hope and disappointment. Wake up. Search for jobs. Print another CV. Walk for kilometres. Stand in reception areas. Wait. Be rejected. Return home. Try again. But that morning was different. Her younger brother, Daniel, had not eaten since the previous afternoon. Amara looked at the small wooden table beside her. There was nothing on it. No bread. No rice. No milk. Not even sugar. She opened the cupboard. Empty. She opened the old refrigerator. Nothing. She checked her handbag. Two coins. That was all she had. Two coins. Amara closed her eyes. “God,” she whispered, “please help me.” Before she could say anything else, the door opened. Daniel walked inside. He was seventeen, thin and exhausted. His school uniform was old and faded. He dropped his schoolbag on the floor. “Sister?” Amara turned. “Yes?” “I’m hungry.” Her heart broke. She forced a smile. “I know.” “Is there anything to eat?” Amara looked away. Daniel immediately understood. He lowered his head. “I’m sorry.” “Why are you apologizing?” “Because I know you don't have money.” Amara walked toward him and placed her hands on his shoulders. “You are not a burden to me.” “But you haven't eaten either.” “I ate earlier.” It was a lie. Daniel knew it. Amara knew he knew. Neither of them said anything. Then Daniel noticed something hanging behind the door. A beautiful blue dress. It was the only thing in the room that looked new. The dress was simple, but elegant. It had belonged to their mother. Amara had kept it carefully for years. Daniel looked at it. “That's Mother's dress.” Amara nodded. “I know.” “Why are you looking at it?” Amara didn't answer. She walked toward it. Her fingers slowly touched the fabric. And suddenly, she remembered her mother's voice. “Amara.” She had been only twenty years old when her mother said those words. Her mother had been lying on a hospital bed. Her body had become weak after months of illness. Amara had been sitting beside her, holding her hand. “Promise me something.” “What, Mama?” “Never allow poverty to make you believe you are worthless.” Amara had cried. Her mother smiled. “You are educated. You are intelligent. You are strong.” Then she had pointed toward the blue dress. “Keep that dress.” “Why?” “One day, when life becomes better, wear it somewhere beautiful.” Amara had laughed through her tears. “I'll wear it to my wedding.” Her mother smiled. “Then make sure the man who sees you wearing it understands how precious you are.” Those were among the last words her mother ever said. Two weeks later, she died. Since then, Amara had kept the dress. She had never worn it. It was her connection to the woman who had raised her. Now she stood in front of it. Daniel watched silently. “Sister?” Amara wiped her eyes. “I'll be back.” “Where are you going?” “To sell something.” Daniel's eyes widened. “What?” Amara took the dress down. He immediately shook his head. “No.” “Daniel—” “No, Sister. Don't sell Mother's dress.” “We need food.” “We'll survive.” “You haven't eaten.” “So?” “So I cannot watch my little brother starve because I am too sentimental to sell a piece of cloth.” “It isn't just a piece of cloth.” Amara looked at him. “I know.” “Then don't sell it.” She hugged him. “I'll be fine.” Daniel held onto her tightly. Amara closed her eyes. “I'm sorry, Mama.” Then she walked into the rain. With her mother's blue dress wrapped carefully inside a plastic bag.