The entire night felt longer than usual. I kept checking my phone and hoping the time would tell 3:00am, or perhaps 4:00am. The cock which usually interrupted my morning sleep, ushering me into a new day was probably too tired to rise and crow today. The long night gave my mind ample time to drift and wander in thoughts.Finally, I was about to live the life I had always thought I deserved, away from the preying eyes of my extended family members who never believed we could be any better. My uncle had openly confronted my mother to tell her that her children would never be able to measure up with his, who were all abroad living life to the fullest.
Maybe it was his word that had kept us all in the place we were. My siblings and I had a hard time getting to do anything reasonable even after graduating with First Class. The thing after our progress let us do so well in school, only to push us away from getting any reasonable job. I would always bury my head in shame whenever my mother had to provide for absolutely everything at home. Though she never complained, I could hear her pain in the way she always had to ask people to remember her if there were openings her children could apply for.
How could I have even thought twice when Emem, my friend, mentioned the idea of registering with this company that took young people abroad to train them in various trades? Immediately I got word of the offer, I jumped at it. Delay would be extremely dangerous. We were to submit our credentials, passport and other relevant documents for the process to be completed. I was finally going to break the jinx in my family.
Drifting in my thoughts was a good way to kill time, only to realise it was already 5:00am. I couldn't be late. My flight was for 9:00am, so I had to arrive even before nine. I wasn't the only one overtaken with excitement. My mother was almost more excited than I was. She already started rehearsing how she would tell her friends that her only daughter was now abroad. Her excitement made me even more happy, because she had lost her joy for a long time.
Source
The international wing of the airport was filled with people pouring out a torrent of emotions as their loved one's bid them goodbye. Mama tried to hold back the tears, but they were beyond her. My brother held her and assured her all would be fine. I gave her the tightest hug and rolled my box towards the point of checking.
I sat outside the room looking at what my hands had become. Everyday, I found myself doing this. The harsh chemicals used to remove the stains on the floor had made my hand look wrinkled and discoloured. I couldn't even complain to the boss about the effect of this chemical. This job was the only way I could have something to keep body and soul together.
Months passed, and I still couldn't imagine that this was really my reality. The promise of being trained in fashion design like I had believed had gone down the drain. It was all a hoax. There was no training anywhere. We had been made to believe that. The only real thing was that we had been brought to work as help to those who needed menial workers in their houses with chores. Once we arrived in America, our passports were taken from us by Mr Green who put us through the hell we went through. There was really no way I could communicate with home, and I feared their minds would break with worry.
This evening after work, I sat outside for a bit of air as my mind went home. I missed my mama and my siblings. Even when we didn't have much, it was better than the slavery I had been subjected to down here. I could hear mama's voice calling me to come and have white soup with well pounded yam on Sunday evening. I missed the taste of the soup that will get my nostrils dripping, because of the quantity of pepper mama always used. It felt like the aroma of the food was just so close to me. I didn't know when I started to shed tears.
I wanted to go home badly. I wanted my chest to be pressed against my mother's, and I would smell the scent of her Soul Mate hair cream go through my nose. I didn't have to struggle in Nigeria, only to have a life worse in America. I had to go home, but how it would happen, I didn't know.
The next morning, word of Mr. Green's arrest got out. His deceit and lies had become public knowledge. The number of people he made to believe were going to have a better life in America were countless, and he had to face the full weight of the law. Like someone who had always been prepared to leave, my bags were packed and ready to go home.
Mama was outside picking beans under the tree Infront of our house when the cab from the airport dropped me. She immediately dropped the tray and ran towards me, giving me that hug I had always dreamt of. The hug that meant peace and safety that I had missed in months. This was home, and no matter how bad it may have been, I felt more alive than anywhere else.
Truly,no place like home, and sadly this is the case for so many out there.
You have done a very nice job with the narrative, and action, but it would be even better if you added dialogue so the characters speak to each other. Dialogue is an important element of quality fiction that can help to bring a story to life. Take a look at this article which discusses the need for balance in a story.
Action, Dialog and Narrative: The Dynamic Trio
I'll do better next time. Thank you
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