Perseverance paved her path forward.

Dreams On Hold

After dinner, they went to the living room with their mother to watch a TV show. Afia moved quietly, gathering plates and glasses, 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 on the periphery. 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, the rejection stinging. 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, wished he'd come back and make everything okay. 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, cliving to 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.

Afia stretched, yawned, and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She said a quick prayer, hoping for a good day, and started getting ready for school. The thought of seeing her friends, learning new things, and maybe even acing a test or two put a spring in her step and also escaping her cold new home makes her happy. Excitingly, she went to get her breakfast and hurry for school. An unyielding voice called "Afia you're not going to school today." Afia's hands trembled as she stood by the table, her school bag still packed. "Why, please?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper."I'm sorry, Afia. It's not possible right now. Maybe next term." The words felt like a slap. She felt a scream building in her throat, but it came out as a sob. Her stepmother's gaze was firm, "So you're staying home today, Afia. Kofi and Ama need to go to school." Your father is aware of this he said, stay home a while when he gets a job, you can join your siblings, and since you're the oldest, we hope you'd understand. The injustice burned, but Afia knew better than to argue. She nodded, tears pricking her eyes as she turned away, her future shrinking. Afia moved slowly and entered her room. Her hands felt heavy as she unbuttoned her crisp white shirt, the familiar routine now a cruel reminder of what she was losing. She slipped off the pleated skirt, her eyes welling up as she hung the uniform in the wardrobe. The silence in the room was deafening, punctuated only by the soft rustle of fabric. She felt like a part of her was being stripped away.

Afia collapsed onto the bed, tears streaming down her face as she buried her face in the pillow. "Please, God, please... make Daddy get a job... I want to go back to school... I can't miss this chance... my friends are preparing for our final exams and i can't join them... I want to make my Dad proud..." ...."And how do i enter the senior level if I'm to stay and wait for the next term....." Her words dissolved into sobs, the weight of her dreams and fears crushing her......" What if i don't go to school again....". The ticking clock seemed to mock her, each second taking her further from her goals. " Afia, aren't you taking off your uniform? A voice came from the living room. Afia slowly got up, her eyes red and puffy. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and headed to the dining area. Her siblings were already gone, and the table was a mess of crumbs and leftover food. Her stepmother handed her a cloth, "Wash these dishes, Afia. And don't forget to sweep the floor." Afia nodded, feeling like she was invisible and entered the kitchen. Afia's stomach growled as she scrubbed the plates, the warm water a small comfort. She took a deep breath and sat down to eat her cold breakfast, her appetite gone, but her hunger pangs insistent. She forced herself to chew, the taste bland and unappetizing. As she ate, her mind wandered back to school, to her friends, to the life she was being forced to leave behind.

Afia shovelled the food into her mouth, barely tasting it. She quickly washed her hands and dived back into the dishes, scrubbing furiously to get them done before her stepmother came in. The sound of clattering plates and rushing water filled the kitchen as she worked, her heart racing with anxiety. She didn't want to give her stepmother any reason to scold her. Afia grabbed the mop and got to work, her movements swift and efficient. She scrubbed the floor, the smell of disinfectant filling the air, and made sure every corner was spotless. The eating area was next, and she quickly wiped down the table, arranging the chairs neatly. She stepped back, surveying her handiwork, hoping it would meet her stepmother's standards. "Mom, your phone is ringing, and I think it's Daddy," Afia said with excitement. "Don't answer it and go to the kitchen," Her stepmother said in a cold voice. She went to the kitchen but eavesdropped on her conversation with her father. Afia's eyes widened as she heard her stepmother answer the phone, her voice a little too sweet. She strained to listen, her heart racing with excitement and anxiety. What was Daddy saying? Was he calling about...? She tried to read her stepmother's expression, but it was like a mask, giving nothing away. Afia's palms were sweating, her mind racing with possibilities. Afia's eyes locked onto her stepmother's face, her voice barely above a whisper. Her stepmother's expression was unreadable, making Afia's anxiety spike. "What did he say? Am I... am I going back to school?" she asked again, her voice trembling slightly.

The stepmother replied, "Not soon, but we suggested something that might help our financial crisis, and you can join your friends in school. Afia's eyes widened as she processed the words. "Something that might help...?" she repeated, her voice filled with uncertainty. Her stepmother's expression was serious, leaving Afia hanging in anticipation. What could it be? Selling water, her stepmother said in a calm tone.

Afia's face fell, the words hitting her like a punch. Selling water? Was that really the only option? She felt a mix of desperation and determination. "Selling water... okay, I'll do it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. At least it was a chance to save up and get back to school. She then asked, "When am I starting? and she responded now. Afia's eyes widened in surprise. "Now?! As in, like, right now?" she asked, her voice a bit shaky. Her stepmother nodded, a determined look on her face. "Yes, now. You can start selling water at the market. We'll get the sachet, and you can start selling. Every pesewa counts, Afia." Afia took a deep breath, a mix of nerves and determination swirling inside her.