Fiction : Like the eve of a wedding Christie sat up in her bed and wept as some nostalgic feeling gripped her by imaginary balls, it was not her wedding eve but the next morning, she would be on her way to Obafemi Awolowo University Ife where she had been admitted to study medicine.
Her tears flowed freely, thankfully her mother was away to a vigil with her two younger siblings and she could cry as much as she wanted. She would have gone with them but her mother had excused her, saying she needed her rest for the journey ahead.
Her tears flowed again as she looked around the single room she shared with her family, tomorrow was not just about her movement to a new beginning, it was her father’s fifteenth year memorial, 15 years since she had been fatherless, 15 years since her mother had become a widow with three young children.
She had been 6 when her dear daddy had died in an accident, her brother had been 4 and her little sister had just been one. Their poor mother had been 28, too young.
Her memory of her father and the incident has since become blurry but the pain of the last fifteen years remains fresh in her mind and memory. Growing and watching her mother fight to live when all she wanted to do was die, watching her go through different jobs so as to cater for her children.
Oh there had been promises when it newly happened, there was a particular Uncle who had promised to see her through her tertiary education.
Her mother had taken her time before reaching out for help, waiting until she had completed her primary education. Christie still remembers the words of Uncle as though they were fresh.
“My dear, Primary school is a lot of education… things are hard… you should let her learn a trade”
And so it had begun, with Christie’s mother swearing that her children would be educated. Oh, she fought, she did every imaginable job to care for her children as there was no help from anyone.
“Christie, I have been able to secure admission for you in a public secondary school… I cannot afford the private school, but I promise its just for a while…”
That was after one year of leaving primary school, her mates had gone ahead to High school but she had to wait behind.
If public school was what mummy can afford, so be it!
Luckily for her, her brilliance stood her out and she was able to meet up quickly.
Things however didn’t go smoothly for Christie’s mother, oh how she suffered everything from homelessness to hopelessness to assault and harassment.
One incident that stands tall in her head would be finding their Landlord trying to rape her mother one day as she returned from school. The picture had marred her for a long time, they had owed the man for nine months and he would take his pound of flesh by trying to forcefully sleep with the poor widow.
“Mummy!” she had screamed on opening the door
Her appearance had thrown off the man, he had risen, pulled his khaki trouser and pushed his way out of the room with a threatening glare!
The next day, he had thrown out their things…they had slept in different Churches and mosques for weeks until help eventually came.
Her mother had never dreamt of being a young widow and so when it came, it caught her unaware…
She had struggled through Secondary school, her mother had found a stall to sell Akara in the evenings and in the day, she hawked nylon bags, and she cleaned homes on weekends. Christie happily helped with the Akara business every evening while the whole family did the weekend jobs.
It was on one of these evenings while selling Akara that they had met the woman who would later help her and her younger siblings!
The woman who they later knew had a foundation that catered to widows. She had been out of secondary school for two years but could not proceed, so she had concentrated fully on helping her mom see her siblings out of school.
Now, her dream was coming true, she had written her JAMB and made a great score, written her post UTME and also passed brilliantly. She had gotten her admission on merit and her younger ones were doing well too.
She couldn’t wait to become a medical Doctor and take care of her mother, she was just 43 yet looked older than her age, time had touched her and she had refused to remarry.
By daybreak, she would return from the vigil and place her hands on her head to bless her and fortify her with prayers for the journey ahead, they would cry and she would see her to the car park… she still did her akara business, but Christie could see ahead that better days are coming.
Her mother had done her best and she also would see to it that nothing stopped her from wiping Mama Christie’s tears away. That woman had seen hell from life and its inhabitants.
Widowhood is hard, no one should make it harder for them.
Christie’s head finally hit the bed she shared with her siblings, her eyes on her load in the Ghana must go bag in the corner, her eyes fell on the only portrait of her father on the wall, she sighed and finally fell asleep.
