Perseverance paved her path forward.

WOLF IN SHEEP CLOTHING

The morning sunlight poured in, harsh and unforgiving. Afia woke to the sound of the door shutting – Dad was gone. The warmth in the house evaporated with him. Her stepmother's voice cut through the air, sharp as a knife, "Get up, lazy cat!. Why's the house still messy?". The day had begun, and with it, the mask is off. Afia jumped at her stepmother's sudden yell, a bruise on her back from the slap. "Move!. Kofi and Ama need breakfast, NOW!. And after preparing breakfast for them, clean the house, do the laundry, and fill the water tanks. You're not gonna get it easy as before just 'cause your father's gone!". Her stepmother's words cut deep, leaving Afia a tough spot to get things done. Afia grinned her teeth, trying to push through the cramps as she scrambled eggs and toasted bread. The kitchen was a blur of activity as she set the table, her stepmother moving around, criticizing every move of hers. Kofi and Ama looked up, "Mum, why isn't Afia eating with us?" they asked, their innocent voices drawing their mother's sharp gaze. "Afia's got work to do, don't bother her," she snapped, waving a dismissive hand. Afia forced a smile, "I'm not hungry, guys, you eat up." The pain in her abdomen threatened to buckle her knees, but she held on, refilling their glasses, her eyes downcast. Afia's hands dipped into the soapy water, scrubbing pots with a vengeance as the pain in her abdomen increased. Kofi and Ama put their backpacks on, standing by the door, "Afia, come with us!" they asked. Their mother intervened, "Afia's not feeling well. She'll stay home today." The kids looked concerned, but their mother ushered them out, "Go, go, don't be late!" The door shut, and Afia's stepmother turned, her gaze cold, Now, let's get this house cleaned up.

Sweat dripped down Afia's face as she turned the water pump, the tanks slowly filling. Her cramps were getting worse, but she knew she'd have to push through – there was still laundry to do, and the house wasn't cleaned yet. She limped towards the washing basin, her eyes fixed on the mountain of dirty clothes. She then went to take a mop and a bucket and started cleaning the house from the kitchen to the living room and to the rooms and managed to mop the house and decided to go wash down and continue later because her strength was failing, then stepmother had stepped out to get something so she took the opportunity to go take a shower and take in some painkillers to help her continue her chores. Afia stepped under the cool water, letting it wash away the sweat and grime. She reached for the painkillers after bathing and gulped them down with water. Just a few minutes of relief, she thought, as she wore her clothes and was about stepping out to go and continue with her chores she got dizzy and slept off . The next thing she knew, she was waking up to the sound of her stepmother's sharp voice, "Afia, what's wrong with you? It's past noon! Get up, you lazy girl!". The room was spinning, and Afia stumbled, trying to get her bearings. She then sat for a while and then entered the washroom to wash her face with water and went to do the laundry. Afia's hands moved mechanically, scrubbing clothes against the washboard. The pain in her abdomen throbbed in time with her movements, but she kept going. The sun beat down on her, making the work even more stressing. She was lost in the rhythm of the laundry when her stepmother appeared, "Afia, why are you taking so long? You're not daydreaming, are you? hurry up and come help me in the kitchen. Afia's voice barely rose above a whisper, "I...I haven't eaten since morning." Her stepmother's expression didn't soften, " a hand that hates work, does not eat. "You're not eating until you're done with the chores i asked you to do, Now get back to work and finish up and come and give me a helping hand in the kitchen." The words cut deeper than the pain in her stomach. Her stepmother left to the kitchen, and Afia's shoulders shook, tears streaming down her face as she scrubbed at a stain on Kofi's shirt. She bit her lip, trying to stifle the sobs, but the pain and exhaustion overwhelmed her. The sound of pots banging in the kitchen seemed to echo her own emotional thought. She let the tears flow silently and said to herself i thought today will be the happiest day of my life because i slept happily yester night thinking of my father's travelling hoping to wake up wearing my pretty smile as always but rather woke up in different home with a different mother. She finished up hurriedly and rush to the kitchen to assist her stepmother so she can eat.The gate swung open and the kids walked in and shouted good afternoon Mom, their mother responded good afternoon my children," she left the kitchen to welcome them. Afia's hands moved slowly, chopping veggies as she watched her stepmother hug Kofi and Ama, smiling warmly. "How was school? "Were you given homework?" The warmth in her voice was like a knife to Afia's chest. She felt a bit of jealousy, wondering why her stepmother changed towards her overnight and she missed the kindness she has been showing her ever since they became a family, She never for once made me miss my biological mother so what happened Afia's thought. The knife felt heavy in her hand, and for a moment, she just stood there, frozen, and said inside her heart that maybe I did something yesterday and forgot to apologise and she's probably punishing me for that so I'll ask for her forgiveness when she returns she smile. For a second, she had hope that maybe things might go back to normal if she apologised for something she didn't know of, but her hopes shattered when she overheard her stepmother advising her children to stay away from her.

Afia's heart felt like it was being crushed. She stood frozen, and the knife was still in her hand as her stepmother's words sliced through her like a razor. The warmth and laughter from earlier seemed to disappear and replaced by a cold, heavy silence. Afia's eyes dropped, her vision blurring with tears as she struggled to breathe. The kitchen, once a place of cooking, now felt like a torture chamber.The words fell like a paper cutter, severing whatever fragile thread of hope Afia had left. She watched numb as Kofi and Ama skipped off to their room, unaware of the poison their mother had just injected into the air. Afia's eyes followed them, a hollow ache spreading in her chest. Her stepmother's voice was like a distant echo, "Afia, don't just stand there, be fast with the chopping, and put the saucepan on fire." The command was a lifeline, something to clove to, a distraction from the pain. She did as she was told, and her stepmother came to finish up with cooking. Afia set up the table and then went to call her siblings for the first time in years her siblings gave a cold altitude, and she was heartbroken. She went to sit on the dining table to eat with them as they've been doing in years, but her stepmother said in a cold voice " onwards you're not allowed to eat with us on this table anymore.

Afia's eyes dropped, the sting of rejection fresh as she nodded silently. She took her plate, the aroma of the food now sour in her mouth, and retreated to the kitchen. The wooden bench was hard beneath her, the silence oppressive. She ate alone, the food tasteless, as the sounds of laughter and conversation from the dining room drifted in, a painful reminder of her outsider status. After dinner, they went to the living room with their mother to watch a TV show. Afia moved quietly, gathering plates and cups, trying to be invisible as her stepmother and the kids laughed and chatted. The warm glow of the evening seemed to exclude her, and she felt like a ghost hovering. The hot water and soap suds were a small comfort as she scrubbed away at the stubborn pots, her mind numbing to the exhaustion. Afia went to the living room after washing the plates and cleaning the kitchen to join them and watch their favourite TV show, but to her surprise, her stepmother asked her to go to her room. Afia's face fell and looked so shattered.

She hovered in the doorway, hoping maybe she'd misunderstood, but her stepmother's gaze was firm. "Go to your room, Afia. This is family time." The TV show's laughter seemed to mock her as she turned away, the darkness of her room waiting like a shadow. She felt like she was dissolving, becoming smaller with each rejection.

Afia collapsed onto the bed, tears streaming down her face as she buried her face in the pillow. "Daddy, why aren't you here?" she whispered, the ache in her chest overwhelming. She missed him so much and wished he hadn't left. The memories of his smile, his warm hugs, tormented her now, highlighting the emptiness of her life without him. She rises up to go and shower.

The warm water was a brief respite, washing away the tears but not the pain. Afia dressed in silence, dining on the thought of school, of friends, of escape. She slipped into bed, eyes closing on a fragile hope tomorrow would be different. But the darkness seemed to whisper a different truth one she wasn't ready to hear. She knelt on her bed and said a word of prayer and went to sleep.