Episode 7&8
1901 Words
Episode 7
The Weight of Survival
The morning sun entered faintly through the small window of their apartment, but the room still felt dark.
Didi sat quietly beside her mother, staring at the half-empty cup of tea on the floor. Mama had barely touched it since morning. Her body looked weaker than before, and the constant coughing had become worse.
“Mama, you need to eat something,” Didi said softly.
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve been saying that for weeks.”
Mama forced a weak smile. “You worry too much.”
But Didi knew the truth.
Things were getting worse again.
Ever since she lost her job at the provision shop, life had become unbearable. The little money she saved was almost finished. Rent was already due in two months, and food had become something they now struggled to see regularly.
Most mornings, Didi left the house pretending she had somewhere important to go. In reality, she spent hours moving from one street to another searching for work.
Shop after shop rejected her.
“No vacancy.”
“We already have workers.”
“Leave your number.”
Some people never even allowed her finish speaking before dismissing her.
By afternoon, her legs usually hurt badly from walking under the hot sun. Yet she kept trying because staying at home felt worse.
One afternoon, she stopped in front of a restaurant to rest.
The smell of fried rice and chicken filled the air immediately. Customers laughed happily inside while waiters moved around carrying trays of food.
Didi swallowed painfully.
She could not remember the last time she ate chicken.
A waiter walked outside and looked at her suspiciously.
“What do you want?”
Didi stood up quickly. “Nothing.”
“You’ve been standing here.”
“I’m sorry.”
She walked away immediately, ashamed of herself.
As she crossed the road, she noticed two girls around her age entering a boutique. Their clothes looked expensive, and their phones alone probably cost more than everything inside Didi’s apartment.
For a moment, she wondered what kind of life they lived.
Did they also worry about food before sleeping?
Did they ever pretend not to be hungry so someone else could eat?
Did they know what it felt like to lose hope slowly?
She shook the thoughts away and continued walking.
When Didi finally returned home that evening, she met her mother lying down quietly.
“Mama?”
No response.
Fear gripped her chest immediately.
“Mama!”
Her mother opened her eyes weakly.
“You scared me!”
“I’m okay,” Mama whispered.
But she was burning with fever.
Didi rushed outside immediately to call a nearby woman they knew.
“Aunty Bose, please help me!”
The woman followed her quickly and touched Mama’s forehead.
“This fever is too much,” she said worriedly. “Has she gone to hospital?”
Didi looked down silently.
Hospital meant money.
Money they did not have.
That night, Didi sat awake beside her mother using a small cloth to clean the sweat from her body.
Mama kept coughing weakly.
At some point, she opened her eyes slowly.
“You should sleep.”
“I’m not tired.”
“You’ve suffered enough because of me.”
Didi’s eyes filled with tears immediately.
“Don’t say that.”
Mama touched her hand gently.
“If anything happens to me—”
“Nothing will happen!” Didi interrupted quickly.
The room became silent.
Outside, rain started falling heavily.
Didi suddenly remembered the promise she made years ago — the promise to give her mother a better life.
But now she could barely even buy medicine.
The next morning, she sold one of her few dresses just to buy drugs from a pharmacy nearby.
The pharmacist looked at her carefully.
“Your mother needs proper treatment,” he said.
Didi nodded slowly.
But proper treatment required money again.
Everything required money.
As days passed, Mama became weaker.
Sometimes she could not even stand properly. The small corn business stopped completely because she no longer had strength to sit outside all day.
That responsibility now fell on Didi.
Every morning, she carried the tray and sat by the roadside under the hot sun.
Some days sales were good.
Most days they were terrible.
One afternoon, while she sat quietly fanning the charcoal fire, a car stopped nearby.
A young woman stepped down wearing sunglasses and expensive heels.
“Corn seller,” she called casually.
Didi quickly arranged some corn for her.
“How much?”
Didi mentioned the price softly.
The woman laughed immediately.
“For ordinary corn?”
Didi remained quiet.
“These poor people sha,” the woman muttered while bringing out the money reluctantly.
After collecting the corn, she entered her car and drove away without another glance.
Didi looked down at the money in her hand.
For some reason, humiliation was beginning to feel normal.
That evening, she returned home exhausted and met Mama struggling to breathe properly.
Fear rushed through her body again.
“Mama?”
“I’m okay,” Mama lied weakly.
“No, you’re not!”
Mama tried sitting up but started coughing badly again.
Didi held her tightly while tears rolled down her cheeks.
For the first time in her life, she truly felt helpless.
Not because of hunger.
Not because of poverty.
But because she was slowly watching the only person she had in this world suffer before her eyes.
And there was nothing she could do about it.
Episode 8
When Hope Feels Far Away
The following weeks became the hardest period of Didi’s life.
Everything around her seemed to fall apart little by little.
The landlord started visiting frequently again.
“Don’t forget your rent,” he warned one afternoon. “I don’t want stories.”
Didi apologized quietly while standing outside the apartment.
After he left, she leaned against the wall tiredly.
Even breathing felt stressful these days.
Inside the room, Mama slept most of the time now. Her body had grown thinner, and her voice sounded weaker each day.
Sometimes Didi secretly cried while looking at her.
She remembered how strong her mother used to be — waking up early every morning, carrying trays of corn, smiling despite hunger.
Now even walking to the bathroom had become difficult for her.
One night, Mama called her softly.
“Didi.”
“Yes, Mama?”
“Come and sit beside me.”
Didi sat down immediately.
Mama stared at her quietly for some seconds before speaking again.
“You’ve become stronger.”
Didi forced a smile. “I’m trying.”
“I wish your father could see you.”
The mention of her father immediately changed Didi’s expression.
“I don’t care about him.”
Mama sighed softly.
“He abandoned us, but don’t let hatred destroy your heart.”
Didi looked away.
All her life, she hated the man she never truly knew.
While other children had fathers paying school fees and protecting their families, hers disappeared without caring whether they survived or not.
Sometimes she wondered if he was still alive somewhere.
Sometimes she wished she could ask him one question:
Why did you leave us?
But no answer would ever change the suffering they went through.
The next morning, Didi went out again searching for work.
She entered salons, restaurants, supermarkets, and offices.
Nothing.
One manager looked at her CV briefly before dropping it carelessly.
“You finished only secondary school?”
“Yes.”
“We need someone with experience.”
Didi nodded quietly and left.
As she walked down the busy street, she suddenly heard laughter behind her.
“Didi?”
She turned immediately.
It was one of her former classmates, Sandra.
Sandra looked beautiful and confident in her university clothes.
“Oh my God,” Sandra said excitedly. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Didi forced a smile. “How are you?”
“I’m fine! I’m back from school for holidays.”
“That’s nice.”
Sandra looked at her carefully.
“So what are you doing now?”
Didi hesitated.
“Just helping my mother.”
“Oh.”
The awkward silence that followed made Didi uncomfortable immediately.
Sandra adjusted her expensive handbag before speaking again.
“You were one of the smartest girls in our class. I thought you’d be in university by now.”
Didi smiled painfully.
“Life happened.”
Sandra nodded slowly but clearly did not know what else to say.
“Well… take care of yourself.”
“You too.”
Didi watched her walk away feeling emptier than before.
Everybody seemed to be moving forward except her.
When she finally returned home later that evening, she met Mama sitting outside weakly.
“You shouldn’t be outside,” Didi said quickly.
“I needed fresh air.”
Didi sat beside her quietly.
For some minutes, neither of them spoke.
Then Mama suddenly smiled faintly.
“Do you remember when you were small and used to say you wanted to become a doctor?”
Didi laughed softly despite herself.
“Yes.”
“You used to treat your dolls with spoon and bucket.”
Both of them laughed quietly.
For a brief moment, the pain disappeared.
But it didn’t last long.
Mama suddenly started coughing violently again.
This time, there was blood.
Didi froze completely.
“Mama…”
Fear covered her entire body.
Mama quickly hid the handkerchief, but Didi already saw it.
“We’re going to hospital tomorrow,” Didi said immediately.
“With what money?”
“I’ll find it.”
“How?”
Didi had no answer.
That night, she sat outside the apartment alone staring into the darkness.
Different thoughts filled her mind.
What if her mother died?
What would happen to her?
Who would she have left?
For the first time in years, Didi felt anger growing inside her heart.
Anger at poverty.
Anger at life.
Anger at the unfairness of everything around her.
Why did some people have more than enough while others suffered endlessly?
Why did hardworking people still end up miserable?
She wiped her tears quickly as footsteps approached.
It was their neighbor, Aunty Bose.
“I heard your mother coughing again,” the woman said gently.
Didi nodded silently.
Aunty Bose sat beside her.
“You’re carrying too much burden for your age.”
Didi smiled weakly. “I don’t have a choice.”
The woman remained quiet for a moment before speaking again.
“There’s one woman I know who needs a house help.”
Didi looked up immediately.
“A house help?”
“She lives in a rich area. The pay is better than selling corn.”
Didi’s heart beat faster.
Maybe this was finally the opportunity she needed.
But Aunty Bose’s next words made her uncomfortable.
“The woman is strict. Very strict.”
Didi stayed silent.
At this point, strictness no longer scared her.
Hunger scared her more.
Watching her mother die slowly scared her more.
“I’ll do it,” she said finally.
Aunty Bose looked at her carefully.
“Think about it first.”
But Didi had already made up her mind.
No matter what kind of work it was…
No matter how difficult it became…
She was ready.
Because survival had already taken away the luxury of choice from her life.
- Writer
