In a poignant narrative of love, longing, and the tumultuous journey of self-discovery, meet Serwaa a young woman whose pursuit of a brighter future leads her down a path of regret, heartache, and unexpected twists. After turning down a marriage pro...
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He got out of bed and approached her, dropping to his knees, his eyes earnest. "Why won't you marry me? I love you, Serwaa, can't you see that? A month has passed, and I hoped you'd reconsider your decision."
"There's nothing to reconsider," she replied, slipping her arms into her shirt. "I need to go fetch water for my grandma, it's getting late. See you here same time tomorrow?"
"No, Serwaa, I'm done. This ends today. My mother was right about you. You can't love a promiscuous woman," he said sharply, the frustration breaking his usual restraint.
Her face fell. "What did you just call me?" The hurt was evident in her voice; Kofi usually measured his words carefully, but today his patience had snapped.
"Just leave, Serwaa. Please go," he said quietly, the depth of his feelings clear. "Men don't cry, but somehow you have the power to bring me to tears."
*****
As Serwaa rinsed the dishes in her new friend Layla's kitchen, she recounted the painful memory. "I remember those words like it was yesterday. I guess that's what pushed me to finally make the trip to the big city. If I had stayed in the village, who knows what might have happened with Kofi." Serwaa sighed telling Layla about her childhood lover, Kofi.
Layla chuckled amid her teasing. "Honestly, you're like so many women who push away good men and then pray for Mr. Right to come along."
"I didn't tell you this so you can mock me, you silly girl!" Serwaa splashed a bit of dishwater at Layla playfully.
Layla wiped her face, still laughing. "You keep calling me a girl as if you're so much older. I am a woman, please. And you should really think about going back to school."
School – the thought had crossed her mind often, but with rent due and money tight, it seemed like a distant possibility. Layla's insistence was part of what kept her grounded in this hectic city life.
"Back to earth, Miss Looking for Mr. Right," Layla teased, snapping her fingers in front of Serwaa's face.
Serwaa loved her friend's spirit; it was the humor and light in the midst of her tumultuous new life that kept her going. "I can't afford it right now, Layla. Plus, starting tertiary at twenty-three... I don't know... it sounds daunting."
"But isn't that why you left Kofi? You wanted a better future. Working as a cleaner isn't the dream, Serwaa. You can't give up now."
"Oh, Layla, save your breath. Let me finish up here before your mom decides I'm part of the furniture," Serwaa replied, laughter mingling with her words, which made Layla laugh out loud too.
Their laughter was a brief respite from the challenges outside, a reminder of why despite everything, Serwaa still held onto the threads of hope for a brighter future.
*****
Their laughter echoed in the small kitchen, a brief escape from the challenges that lay beyond its walls. Serwaa continued to struggle with the idea of going back to school and the financial hurdles that entailed. Despite Layla's encouragement, she felt stuck between her present reality and the dreams she still cherished.
That evening, Serwaa laid in bed replaying the conversation with Kofi that had driven her from the village. Since then, she hadn't heard from him. Attempts to find out more were thwarted by Kofi's mother, who barely tolerated her presence. Rumors swirled that his wealthy uncle had taken him abroad, leaving her to wonder about what might have been.
The past, however, couldn't hold her back forever. Life in Accra had its own demands.
*****
"He's around, you have to hide," Layla hissed urgently, pulling Serwaa away from the mop and bucket.
Breathless, they ducked behind the restaurant, Serwaa's heart pounding against her ribs. "He looked... like... he could... kill you," Layla panted, referring to Khalil. This Lebanese man Serwaa had unfortunately become entangled with upon her arrival in Accra was nothing short of a nightmare.
Khalil's temper was explosive, and his treatment of Serwaa had been appalling. She had finally left him, but the fear of his wrath lingered. Why she had stayed, and why she was now hiding from him, was a tale filled with regret and lessons learned the hard way.
*****
Back at the restaurant after ensuring Khalil had gone, Serwaa returned to her cleaning, her thoughts a whirlwind of past loves and present dangers. Layla's teasing about finding Mr. Right seemed a distant concern against the backdrop of these more immediate threats.
Despite everything, Serwaa clung to her dreams. Layla's incessant nudging about school echoed her mother's own encouragements from years past. Perhaps it was time to reconsider. Perhaps it wasn't too late for her to chase the future she had envisioned, one where she reached beyond the expectations set for a village girl.
As she locked up the restaurant and stepped into the cool night air, Serwaa felt a resolve forming. Tomorrow, she would look into classes. Maybe part-time, something manageable. A step. Any step. It was better than standing still.
As Layla had said, she couldn't give up now. Not when there was still so much to strive for.
