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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I hated thunderous, stormy nights; they brought back too many agonizing memories. As the rain intensified, I bundled myself up in my jacket and double-checked the windows to make sure they were tightly shut.
Ideally, I would have made myself a cup of coffee and curled up in bed like the wealthy do during a downpour. However, my reality was starkly different: I didn't own a coffee maker, and worse still, my roof was leaking.
I had repeatedly tried to get my roof fixed, but my landlady dismissed all my complaints. "Young lady, I can't solve all the problems in the world. It's not my fault they don't make good roofing sheets anymore. If anything, you should blame your incompetent generation," she would yell, berating me in Ga—a language I couldn't understand—simply because I had raised a concern about the leaking roof in the very house she rented out to me.
Eventually, I grew tired of her excuses and stopped insisting. But right now, frustration mounted as I moved back and forth across the room I was paying for, chasing the intrusive raindrops that found their way inside.
Defeated by the relentless intrusion of rainwater despite my best efforts, I collapsed onto my sleeping mat, surrendering to exhaustion. The facade of toughness I had been desperately clinging to crumbled away, revealing the vulnerable core beneath. With a resigned sigh, I let my arms fall limply to my sides, no longer able to maintain the façade of strength.
As tears welled up in my eyes, I couldn't help but feel a wave of déjà vu wash over me. This scene was eerily reminiscent of that fateful night—the stormy evening when I first arrived in Accra, seeking refuge from the chaos of my past.
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As the bus pulled into the VIP station at Circle, Greater Accra, weary passengers disembarked, their faces etched with exhaustion from the journey. Even at dusk, the capital city bustled with activity, a stark contrast to the tranquil evenings of my village where gatherings were centered around simple pleasures like drinking, playing, and sharing folktales under the stars.
