The Final Step

Halima was petrified. She looked at the ticking clock, mounted on the chipped white wall, a resounding reminder of what lay ahead. She would be picked up at 2pm, precisely in forty-five minutes. Her heart felt so heavy, as though someone had placed a tonne of stones in it. She packed her clothes slowly, folding one item after the other, her mind alternating between the past, present and future. Her belongings fitted in one small black suitcase. She would miss the children’s home, that had sheltered her for twenty-four years. She had never been alone her entire life. Except only once. The occasion that had landed her in the home. Her biological mother had dumped her on the railway tracks, at the tender age of six months, tying her tiny limbs tightly to the rails using strong cables so she couldn’t crawl away to safety. Her futile childless struggles to escape left her with permanent marks around her ankles. She sat on the creaking bed draped with an old reddish bluish blanket and rubbed the scars absentmindedly. ?The vestiges of her life.

The entire narrow dormitory was filled with double decker beds, optimising available room to offer sanctuary to as many children as possible. The cheap blankets would leave lint on hair. Each morning she had developed a routine of pulling the lint from her hair or helping her sisters and brothers to pull out the stubborn threads. She unconsciously patted the blanket. She would miss the different smells from the room. That a mother would be intent to ensure death of her infant child through shredding by train baffled her to date. What wrong had she done when she couldn't even speak or walk? Why was she hated so much? But she wasn’t destined to die that night or subsequent nights. She had defied death. Almost two decades later, she had been thrust into a lonely inner world filled with mazes. Labyrinths she would never unravel.

Two things had saved her life that cold night. The train had broken down, changing the daily schedule, and the policemen who were walking through the tracks to stop vandalism came across her, crying, blue and green from the cold and hunger. It was estimated she had been on the tracks for at least two days, wrapped in a flimsy shawl. Ants had bitten her, leaving sharp welts on her tender skin. They had untied her, wrapped her in their tunics, and through social services delivered her to the Hope Children’s Home, her abode for over two twenty years. She sometimes vaguely wondered if she would have felt any pain had the train hit its target. She shuddered at the thought and the sheer cruelty. She was also sure God had a reason for saving her. What destiny awaited her?

As she turned to arrange her rumpled green pillow one last time, her reflection stared back at her from the broken mirror mounted on the wall adjacent to the bed.?She was tall, lean and had massive hair with large round clear black eyes. As she matured gradually into adulthood, she got compliments from strangers on her beauty. Some would ask her whom she took after. Her mother or father? Which part of the country did she come from? What was her lineage? Tribe? Cultural background? Did she have sisters and brothers who had the same stunning beauty? The curious strangers wouldn’t let her be. Father, mother, or siblings, she had no clue. She had lost interest a long time ago. She would never know who the physical image in mirror related to, even considered her a stranger. The inner self was more familiar to her. She would have endless monologues with her heart and mind, defining her soul. The only thing she comprehended fully is what science informed her. Her blood group was AB. When she was ready to marry, she would insist on a DNA test to avoid accidentally marrying her biological brothers or cousins if they existed. ?She had become dangerously pragmatic.

She shook her head, as though the action would erase all memories, as she stuffed two computing books in her black faded suitcase. But the thoughts and persistent questions haunted her like a recurring non ending nightmare. She would never comprehend. Was it important to know one’s biological family and background? Well maybe not. What family could have driven their daughter to dump a child on the train tracks, to be ground into a thousand pieces like minced meat? And never come forward when she was found? What tribe would be proud of such actions? Why relate to kindred that deserted her? She would define her own culture, way of life and ethical standards. The home allowed different religious training and accorded the children a choice. After a lot of soul searching and trying different creeds, she had chosen Islam as she found inner peace each time she prayed. At the same time, she appreciated all her family who embraced Catholicism, and the ones who followed Seventh Day Adventists and Pentecostals. There were three children who had opted for Buddhism. The diversity gave them an enriching experience, comparative debates and discussions. She loved it. The home had given her the power to choose. Most of her workmates simply followed what their parents were practising and didn’t have the opportunity to internalise what different religions offer. She would empower her children to also make a choice of their own.

She picked a portrait photo taken for her twenty first birthday, gingerly looking at the clock that was ticking away, adamantly reminding her, her time was up. Her one hundred and twenty sisters and brothers, who now formed her family, were crowded around her and the cake. Smiley faces. But beneath the happy faces, there was a unique touching story that connected them. Each would gradually grapple with the details of their existence but the younger ones too young to grasp the reality of the future or of the fate that landed them in the home. They had shared everything. In the home, no one owned anything. Clothes and shoes were for anyone who had similar body sizes. Communal living. They had slept in cramped places, shared clothes, beddings, food but they also cried together, celebrated successes and conquered challenges; a mixed bag of tears and fortunes. The home relied solely on goodwill of well- wishers.?Sometimes they had food flowing in non-stop and then often they would lack even basic tea leaves. They came together as a family and created urban farming from the cramped space. ?Optimising mushroom production and selling to get income. Both girls and boys slept in separate densely packed dormitories.?No personal space, no moments to be alone. When it was time to go to high school after she aced her exams, she moved yet to another dormitory in the boarding school, trading familiar faces with strange ones but quickly adopting to her new environment.

She picked the last item, a new black blazer she acquired after six months of employment, she recalled with a pang the school family days. Her classmates would be visited by relatives and close relations loaded with delicious foods and gifts but she had no one. ?Not quite true. Her mentor was there but because she was also a mother figure to all the other children, she had a challenge to honour all school visits. In the beginning she would cry herself to sleep but she gradually developed a routine for those days. ?She would retreat into her bed in the dormitory, curl up and read a book or dream of a day when she would not disappear into oblivion, she would be an important person. Her name would be known globally, a force to reckon with. She would have a family of her own and fight for them in rain and sunshine. She would create a formidable lineage. Education was her ticket. Information was her power. ?In the school, she had accessed computer labs and discovered the trove of treasure in the internet. Any person could learn literally anything. Most of the times instead of wallowing in self-pity, she would focus and learn new skills. She had no idea when she would apply them but she knew the clock was ticking, nudging her towards unpacking her future.

It was now ten minutes before her family came to say farewell. They had allowed her some space to pack her things and collect her emotions. She swallowed a huge lump that threatened to choke her.?A bump of bitter sweet memories. She would be picked up by a motorcycle, known locally as boda boda, affordable transport as she was keeping her expenses to the bare minimum. Where had time flown to? The countdown had begun when she went to university. Her mentor, whom she now fondly referred to as her mom had prepared her. She would have to leave the home one year after graduation. The one year designed to help her get a job and create a nest egg before departure. Her exit would make room for other destitute kids. The numbers of deserted or dumped kids was on the rise and homes like hers, offered a life line to the kids. She couldn’t be ungrateful as they had housed her for an entire lifetime. She just wished she didn’t feel so alone, sad, scared and uncertain. She was allowed to visit but she couldn’t spend the nights. Her bed had already been assigned to a new comer, including her old clothes and books. She felt replaced too soon. Deep down she had hoped the bed would be empty at least for some time so she could find an excuse for a sleepover.?“Maybe I am being mean. The other child deserves it more. I have landed on my feet.” Her rational voice took over.

She had been lucky to land a job in a small computing service company right after graduation. Her salary however was meagre, barely allowing her to buy some clothes and shoes for work, the ones she wouldn’t have to share. The ones in her bags now. She recalled the day of the interview. She had borrowed clothes from one of her older sisters but they were big. ?The red trouser suit hung on her like a scarecrow. Her sisters and mother had used safety pins to her waist to hold the trouser and on her hips to give it shape. She then wore a bulk top under the oversize coat to give it some form. The shoes were equally large. They stuffed tissue paper and newspaper cuttings at the front so she was able to walk without tripping. She had spent the weekend with her sisters, learning how to walk on oversized high heels. Tripping a number of times before finding her balance, the younger sisters laughing so hard. By Sunday evening, she had mustered the trick, ready for the Monday session.

During the interview, she struggled to focus as she sat gingerly on the chair wondering if any of the safety pins would come undone and prick her. Against the odds, she got the job. It wasn’t an A list job but it was a start to building a name in the computing industry. She also guessed they took advantage of her as she had no one to guide her on salary negotiations and also her lack of experience. She focused on learning as much as she could from her colleagues and from internet. She would become an expert. She would seek and land a new job in a year’s time and she would have better negotiating power as she would research her worth in the market.

Well, that is if she could firmly overcome the roller coaster of her past years. She heard a knock on the door. Before she could answer it, her family flooded in to say their goodbyes. She was hopeless with farewells. Tears streamed freely. A part of her was glad she had people who cared for her, and a part of her wished her biological parents could see she had earned the love and respect of people. She hugged one after another, then went into group hugs and then her mom stood in from of her. The woman who had taken her in, given her shelter, love and mentoring.?She noticed she had been crying, probably for hours, maybe wondering how many more goodbyes she would have to say in the future. White hair crowned her head, and warm lines of age creased her face.?The love she had shared generously with all the children who passed the home over the years shone through her eyes, lighting and warming up her face with that genuine love that she had come to appreciate over the years. She dreaded to think of what would happen if one day she died. The Home would never be the same though there were other kind hearted care givers. They hugged deeply, no words spoken, hearts racing and united just like when she first hugged the emaciated stunted child that had been rescued from the iron rails.

“You will do well my child. You are resilient.”

She whispered finally while handing her an African necklace with a love pendant in the middle.?“This is to show you, we are family. Do come back and visit anytime.”

She nodded, still mute, her voice drowned by the emotions that strangled her. “If you ever have doubts, remember how you defied your mama. She probably thinks you dead, but you defeated death. You the most beautiful woman my eyes seen in a long time. And a smart cookie too, destined for greatness. Greater than Ali. You my own little fighter and boxer. Doubt is natural.”

Halima shuddered as she recalled her abandonment once more and amidst the tremor, she smiled as she would miss her mom’s broken English. What had driven her biological mother to that end? Would she ever grasp humanity and cruelty? Where was her father? Did he even care? Or was he even aware he had sired a child? Was he alive? ?She managed to mumble a thank you, burying her face in the wide hefty shoulders of her mom. Getting one of her popular massive hugs that had given many a kid love and hope.

She finally pulled back and looked at all the faces in front of her, gazing at her with love, admiration, adoration, and sadness; feeling their loss just as she felt she was losing them and she suddenly realised she didn’t really care who the parents were. That she had known that fact for a very long while though was afraid to admit to herself. Someone who could do that to their child wasn’t worth the title parent nor looking for. ?She counted her blessings. She had loving sisters and brothers while others were not lucky to have a big family or even siblings. She knew the hard meaning of survival, a life lesson that prepared her for any difficulties in life. She knew how to cope with little and so could fit in anywhere. She was lucky to experience diversity and have a family that reminded her of rich fruit salad. Some people would never know that joy. ?She would work at burying the questions that haunted her in a deep abyss and finding a new horizon to channel her energy towards. The questions had consumed most of her teenage life but not anymore. She would take that inner power back.

She made a resolve as she took a firm final step towards the door. She would make it, for sure just as the sun was filtrating through the doors. She would make it for her sake, as well as for her little sisters and brothers. ?She still couldn’t shake off the fear that gnawed at her bones, body and soul but she knew just as she was determined to erase memories of her past, she would equally conquer her dread, to embrace her future and dreams. Someone had given her a chance and she would pay it forward. At the very least work hard to sponsor the higher education of her family. She was ready. She smiled as she mounted the motorcycle, after her suitcase had been tied precariously on the side. She turned and waved to her family, hanging precariously on the bike, as the rider took her to the beginning of her destiny.

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