I sit on the front steps of our house. It's a cold morning, but beautiful nonetheless. I wonder if people see the same things as I do.Gently,I rub my eyes and yawn. Fog is covering up the city.
"What are you thinking,doing nothing here?" My Momma asks. "Go to work,you fool!"
I reluctantly obliged. It is Sunday, but I have to work on Sundays to keep the family alive.In fact,I have to work every day,no rest.
I put on my daintiest clothes,and by daintiest, I mean an old donated shirt and a greasy pair of shorts. I sit on the dining table, my Dadda is not here, and like the usual, we do not eat in silence.
My five siblings fight for more food,food that does not exist;or at least,not in our plates.My Momma feeds herself and then scolds them; she pinches my little brother's arms.
"Goodbye,Momma." I say, giving her a hug before I head off for work.I already know what to expect.
She pries me away from her,annoyed. "Go now and bring money home!" She scolds, "We cannot live with these hugs and hugs alone."
"Yes,Momma." I say, cause all I want is to please her.
Outside, it is cold and the streets are wet. It has just rained last night,washing away the dirt in the road.Sometimes, I wish the rain can wash away my fears,too.
I skip from one street to another,looking for the best place to work. My feet bring me to the Church, so off I enter to pray.
I kneel before God and ask not for any material things, but for forgiveness.
I'm sorry for not being the daughter that my Momma needs.
I'm sorry for whatever trouble my Dadda is causing You right now.
I'm sorry for every single swear word that comes out of my siblings' mouths.
I'm sorry if sometimes, I blame You for all the wrong in my life.
I sit outside the church, just watching the people around me. If Momma sees me like his,she would scold me for wasting precious time,and maybe give me a slap or two across my cheeks,but I watch. I watch a mother hold her little daughter's hand,they are smiling at each other. She buys her a cone of ice cream...Oh,what I wouldn't give to have a taste.
I watch a man buy his son a blue balloon,playing with him all the while.I envy that boy;my Dadda rarely goes home,and when he does,it's either he's drunk,or he needs money for gambling.It doesn't matter though.It makes me happy to see him every once in a while.
It is afternoon now,and I still haven't got a single penny in my pocket.I look around,everyone is busy..Walking, talking, laughing, pushing each other off the road. It's funny how life goes on for some people while you badly want to end yours.
I walk over to a fastfood joint,a kind hearted lady gives me her half eaten burger.Ah,this will do.I sit on the curb,ready to eat my late lunch,when they came.
"Hey...A burger!"
I hid the food behind me. "Yes it is."
"Give it to me." The leader says, pulling my hair.
"No,this is mine!Earn your own food!"
"Ah,you're brave now,huh?" With that,he gives me one jab on the stomach,takes my food,and walks away laughing with his gang.
I lie on the dirty pavement, writhing in pain. I position a tin can on the side walk, calling "alms, alms" to the passers by,who normally throw me one glance, and occasionally put a penny or two in my can.
Evening comes and my earnings are still not enough. The skies are dark,signaling another starless night, another rain.
And I am not wrong.Minutes later it rains,and I have nowhere to turn to. I am soaked, my clothes are dripping wet, but I cannot go home just yet.
"Alms... Alms..."
But nobody seems to listen. Times like this,I appear invisible to everybody. After all, who am I?
I am just a five year old,asking for spare money.It is not the society's responsibility to give me some.
I start walking home,crying,because I know what is waiting for me. As I brave the storm, a battle is ensuing within me. Shall I just let the flood carry me to where I should be? Or will I swim against the current to where I want to be?
As I lay the coins on the table,I wait for the worst to happen. I watch the shadows dance against the walls of our poorly lit hut while my Momma count the money.
"This," she hisses at me,holding up my chin. A tear streaks down my face, and I start to shiver with fear. "Is simply not enough!"
"I'm sorry, Momma." I cry, but we both know she would not listen anyway.
She turns her back on me,lighting up a cigarette. "You will have nothing for dinner."
With that, my night ends, and I cry myself to sleep, clenching my rambling stomach.The crickets sang me a lullaby, and as soon as I close my eyes,I can't help but whisper...
It's just another day.
"What are you thinking,doing nothing here?" My Momma asks. "Go to work,you fool!"
I reluctantly obliged. It is Sunday, but I have to work on Sundays to keep the family alive.In fact,I have to work every day,no rest.
I put on my daintiest clothes,and by daintiest, I mean an old donated shirt and a greasy pair of shorts. I sit on the dining table, my Dadda is not here, and like the usual, we do not eat in silence.
My five siblings fight for more food,food that does not exist;or at least,not in our plates.My Momma feeds herself and then scolds them; she pinches my little brother's arms.
"Goodbye,Momma." I say, giving her a hug before I head off for work.I already know what to expect.
She pries me away from her,annoyed. "Go now and bring money home!" She scolds, "We cannot live with these hugs and hugs alone."
"Yes,Momma." I say, cause all I want is to please her.
Outside, it is cold and the streets are wet. It has just rained last night,washing away the dirt in the road.Sometimes, I wish the rain can wash away my fears,too.
I skip from one street to another,looking for the best place to work. My feet bring me to the Church, so off I enter to pray.
I kneel before God and ask not for any material things, but for forgiveness.
I'm sorry for not being the daughter that my Momma needs.
I'm sorry for whatever trouble my Dadda is causing You right now.
I'm sorry for every single swear word that comes out of my siblings' mouths.
I'm sorry if sometimes, I blame You for all the wrong in my life.
I sit outside the church, just watching the people around me. If Momma sees me like his,she would scold me for wasting precious time,and maybe give me a slap or two across my cheeks,but I watch. I watch a mother hold her little daughter's hand,they are smiling at each other. She buys her a cone of ice cream...Oh,what I wouldn't give to have a taste.
I watch a man buy his son a blue balloon,playing with him all the while.I envy that boy;my Dadda rarely goes home,and when he does,it's either he's drunk,or he needs money for gambling.It doesn't matter though.It makes me happy to see him every once in a while.
It is afternoon now,and I still haven't got a single penny in my pocket.I look around,everyone is busy..Walking, talking, laughing, pushing each other off the road. It's funny how life goes on for some people while you badly want to end yours.
I walk over to a fastfood joint,a kind hearted lady gives me her half eaten burger.Ah,this will do.I sit on the curb,ready to eat my late lunch,when they came.
"Hey...A burger!"
I hid the food behind me. "Yes it is."
"Give it to me." The leader says, pulling my hair.
"No,this is mine!Earn your own food!"
"Ah,you're brave now,huh?" With that,he gives me one jab on the stomach,takes my food,and walks away laughing with his gang.
I lie on the dirty pavement, writhing in pain. I position a tin can on the side walk, calling "alms, alms" to the passers by,who normally throw me one glance, and occasionally put a penny or two in my can.
Evening comes and my earnings are still not enough. The skies are dark,signaling another starless night, another rain.
And I am not wrong.Minutes later it rains,and I have nowhere to turn to. I am soaked, my clothes are dripping wet, but I cannot go home just yet.
"Alms... Alms..."
But nobody seems to listen. Times like this,I appear invisible to everybody. After all, who am I?
I am just a five year old,asking for spare money.It is not the society's responsibility to give me some.
I start walking home,crying,because I know what is waiting for me. As I brave the storm, a battle is ensuing within me. Shall I just let the flood carry me to where I should be? Or will I swim against the current to where I want to be?
As I lay the coins on the table,I wait for the worst to happen. I watch the shadows dance against the walls of our poorly lit hut while my Momma count the money.
"This," she hisses at me,holding up my chin. A tear streaks down my face, and I start to shiver with fear. "Is simply not enough!"
"I'm sorry, Momma." I cry, but we both know she would not listen anyway.
She turns her back on me,lighting up a cigarette. "You will have nothing for dinner."
With that, my night ends, and I cry myself to sleep, clenching my rambling stomach.The crickets sang me a lullaby, and as soon as I close my eyes,I can't help but whisper...
It's just another day.
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