Set in modern-day Nigeria, Adaora and TaraOluwa are mother and daughter set to go down a journey of healing wounds. Tara's ex-best friend partnered with her former crush to sell her to human traffickers. The memories of her short time in hostage bef...
We cannot always build the future for our youths, but we can build our youth for the future. -Franklin D. Roosevelt
"Come on, mom; let's go or we will be late. Service starts in forty-five minutes!" Tara yelled at her mom as she stepped out of her room, looking elegant in her simple navy blue dress and black belt on her waist.
"I'm coming, dear. This outfit is not fitting right. I want to change it." Dora yelled back.
"Oh no! Not again, Mom. This is the third time you are changing."
"Don't worry. I promise you this will be the last time. I want everything to be perfect."
Tara inwardly facepalmed and shook her head at her mother's want for perfection.
She faced the parlor mirror and donned her blue fascinator on her head. It completed her appearance.
She was ready to spend the first Sunday of the year in the presence of God. God had been faithful to her. A smile slipped on her face as she remembered the victory she got earlier the previous week.
True to her word and with the support of the Almighty God she dropped a spotless design on Martinez's table.
She chuckled as Martinez's disappointed expression crossed her mind. His plan to set her up for failure didn't work.
After that, he set many obstacles for her such as emergency meetings and asking for her presence for petty things, but she overcame all of them.
The squeaking sound of her mother's door drew her attention. She turned in the direction and a grin split on her face.
"Oh, my word! Mom, you look beautiful." Tara said as she admired her mother's white and gold George wrapper and blouse.
(Picture below courtesy Google)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(George wrapper and blouse are the traditional outfits of the Ibo tribe and some other tribes in Nigeria, Africa.)
"Thank you, dear." Dora smiled in contentment. "I knew it was the right one when I wore it. "
"Of course; it had to be the right one. Especially after you tried three other outfits." Tara swung her handbag over her shoulder.
Dora chuckled while she packed her sequined gold clutch bag.
"Anyway, let's be going. We have fifteen minutes before service starts." Tara added.
Dora nodded her head in agreement. And they strutted out of the house.
★★★★★
The Bullock women entered the huge white building that housed their church for five years. It had been a place of refuge for them.
The last note of the musical instruments signaled the end of the praise and worship session.
Tara glared at Dora. "Ugh! You made me miss my favorite part."
