Chapter 4: Difficult Decision And Painful Good-bye
899 Words
Tears rolled down Benice’s face again.
Because deep inside, she knew the truth.
“Please I am hungry". Benice demanded.
Immediately, one of the women rushed to her house. She brought a plate of porridge yam.
Benice ate voraciously like a hungry lion and slept off.
She woke up early in the morning when Mama Amah had already boiled some water for a sit-bath with salt in order to avoid infections.
"Aww thanks very much mama! Oh! It's nothing, that's much that women could do for one another in distressed situations.” Replied Mama Amah.
After some days of exhausting the money in the envelope, Mama Amah could barely feed Benice and her child.
Life had just become much harder for them.
Weeks turned into months, each day
dragging by with the same heavy
silence that hung over Mama Amah's
small hut.
Nothing came easy.
The tiny room, built with weak mud
walls and covered by an old rusted
zinc roof, had become both a shelter
and a prison. When rain fell, droplets
leaked through the holes in the roof
and landed in small bowls arranged
carefully around the room. When the
sun came out, the hut became
unbearably hot, making the baby
restless and uncomfortable.
Life in Mama Amah's hut was far from easy.
There were days when there was no
food at all except water.
Little Eunice survived mostly on breast
milk, but even that was becoming a
problem. Benice's body was weak from
hunger, and because she barely ate
enough, the milk no longer flowed in
the quantity her baby needed.
Each time Eunice cried from hunger,
Benice's heart shattered into pieces.
She would hold the little girl close to
her chest, tears sliding silently down
her cheeks.
I'm sorry, my baby,she would whisper
over and over. I'm trying.
The little money Mama Amah made
from selling charcoal, roasted corn,
matches, and a few household items
on the old wooden table outside the
hut was all they had. It was hardly
enough for one or two poor meals a day.
Yet the old woman never complained.
Instead, she shared everything.
Sometimes she gave Benice the larger
portion and pretended she was not hungry.
Benice noticed, but said nothing.
The guilt was already too much.
Determined not to remain helpless,
Benice began carrying Eunice
everywhere in search of work, despite
how tender and fragile the baby still was.
Every morning, she tied Eunice
securely to her back with an old
wrapper and stepped into the dusty
roadside streets.
She sold biscuits.
She sold sweets.
She sold roasted groundnuts.
She called out to passersby under the
harsh sun, praying each sale would
bring enough money to buy food for the night.
Some days were good.
Most days were not.
At night, exhausted and emotionally
drained, she would lie beside Eunice
and gently rock her to sleep.
Sometimes she sang softly.
Sometimes she simply stared at the
old zinc roof above her, watching
shadows dance in the darkness.
Her thoughts were always the same.
Mhhhhh, God… how will I raise this child?
One night, after Eunice had finally
fallen asleep, Mama Amah came to sit beside her on the thin mat.
The old womans face looked unusually serious.
We cannot continue this way, my daughter.
Benice let out a tired sigh.
Mhhhhh… I know. What do you advise me to do, Mama?
Mama Amah held her gaze for a long moment before speaking.
If you can listen to me, you must find work in the main city.
The words hit Benice like a stone.
She turned immediately to look at her baby, sleeping peacefully, one tiny hand curled beneath her cheek.
Tears filled her eyes.
How can I take my baby along?she asked in a broken whisper.
Mama Amah gently reached for her hand.
I will take care of Eunice.
Benice looked at her in confusion.
But you have already done too much for me.
A sad smile touched Mama Amahs lips.
You resemble my late daughter Rita,she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. Every time I look at you, I see her. She passed on some years ago.
The confession broke something inside Benice.
Her lips trembled.
With tears running down her cheeks, she shook her head.
I cannot leave you and my baby. We must go together.
Mama Amah sighed and cupped Benices face like a mother comforting her child.
Where is the money to rent a house in the city? You have to go first, settle yourself, and then come back for us.
She paused, then added gently,
You are not abandoning us. You are fighting for Eunice's future.
Those words stayed in Bernice's heart long after Mama Amah lay down to sleep.
That night, sleep refused to come.
She lay awake listening to Eunice's breathing.
Her chest felt tight, as if invisible hands were tearing her heart apart.
The decision felt impossible.
But deep inside, she knew Mama Amah was right.
There was one thing stronger than fear—hope.
"There's one thing stronger than all armies of the world, and that is an idea whose TIME HAS COME"said Victor Hugo.
And hope was the only thing she had left.
In the middle of the night, Benice quietly packed a small worn-out bag.
Inside it, she placed her only extra dress, an old wrapper, and the few coins she had saved from selling groundnuts.
- Writer
