Jason Leung
What’s more painful than waking up on your birthday morning to the realisation that you wouldn’t be getting any presents is having your only parent forget it’s your birthday. Gone are the days where I wake up to a bar of chocolate in my mum’s hands and her warm breath in my ear, whispering the words, “I pray this year tastes as sweet as this does.”
Again, just like last year, mum has forgotten what today is.
Three months without a job, mum leaves the house even before I do in search of something to keep us going, and because of that, I do not blame her, even if this time last year we fared better than we currently are and still she forgot my birthday.
Well, what can I do about it? I shrug in reply to my thoughts. Even if there’s not always enough food, I have a roof over my head and that’s more than enough to be thankful for. That’s what I’m thinking as I force my feet into my too-tight trainers, but when I catch a glimpse of my scruffy schoolbag with the numerous tears staring at me, a teardrop falls on my shoelace before I can will it back. I wipe it at once with the back of my hand. This is no time to be a crybaby. If I don’t get to the bus top, the schoolbus would leave me.
I snatch the bag from the dining table and dash to the door. Some five minutes later, I wind up at Minimah junction, some steps away from Bamboo Chocolate hoarding. I try not to look at it as I get on the bus. I won’t be getting any today. There’s no money for it, and besides, if mum forgot today’s my birthday, I doubt she’ll remember her promise.
My bestfriend isn’t on the bus yet, so I’m left sitting alone in the two-seater with nothing to do but stare out of the window and dwell on how sad my life is at the moment.
I hope I don’t sound ungrateful. Honestly, I am. I’m constantly trying to be happy or at least look happy, but sometimes, I can’t help it. I’m ten years old and even if things are as bad as they are at home, I need a mother to help me through all of this, but she’s hardly ever there emotionally. These days, we’re as distant as two friends who do not see eye to eye.
I don’t notice when the bus moves but when I finally realize, we’re halfway to school and Somto is still not beside me. I want to cry right there. Not on my birthday! If Somto misses the schoolbus, she misses school. She should be beside me when the class sings “happy birthday” and I have nothing to share but a smile as wide as the school pond. I sink into my seat. I wish I missed school as well.
Jason Leung
I was right; Somto did not make it to school. But thank God I made it through basic five happy birthday song without bawling in front of my mates or Timi. Especially Timi! How embarrassing that would be!
Due to the sorry state of my century-old sneakers, I avoid anything that would draw attention to me on Fridays. Added with it being my birthday, I’m getting a lot of attention, so I stay put in my class to avoid much of it. My head is buried in a MacMillan children encyclopedia when my tum growls for the first time. I wince from the hunger pangs I’m feeling and touch my stomach fervently praying that Amina and Tayo who are sitting behind me didn’t hear that!
Another growl from my stomach has me finding my way to the back of the classrooms where I can be alone. When I get there, I sit on the garden chair and bury my face in my laps, leaving the book of words lying on the unoccupied space beside me. Just then, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I look up at once.
“Hey, Timi,” I say with surprise evident in my voice.
“Happy birthday,” he says with a shy smile.
I smile back, a weak but genuine smile. It feels good to have someone who makes you feel the way Timi makes me feel wish you a happy birthday.
He holds out a white lunch bag to me. I hesitate before I take it from him.
“My mum sent a birthday gift,” he says with his hands behind him and that smile still plastered on his face. “Open it.”
I unzip the bag slowly, not knowing what to make of this. There’s a stainless steel flask inside. I look at him with a raised eyebrow.
He shrugs.
Courage Agamah
I go ahead to take off the cover, and the smell of party jollof rice assails my nostrils. I push my face back, shocked by what I’m holding. Suddenly, I can’t get any words out of my mouth. If my belly could say a “thank you” instead, it would. Right on cue, it rumbles.
Timi laughs. I’m sure he heard it. I laugh too.
“I hope your new year tastes as sweet as you find the jollof.”
This took me way back to primary school days @philomenob. Thank you ❤
🥺Awn, I’m glad my story could do that. Thanks for reading!
Awwnn... That is sweet. We all need a Timi in our lives
😊Yes, we do! Thanks for reading and commenting, Balikis.
You are welcome.
This is a very touching story, @philomenob. It's so hard for kids when they don't have enough food, enough attention from their parents, and other problems. For the narrator of this story, it has all stacked up at once, including her friend not coming to school on her birthday. It's a relief when something good happens, and she gets a special meal!
Thank you for sharing your story in The Ink Well, and for reading and commenting on the work of other community members.
😊It was my pleasure partaking in the weekly prompt. Thank you so much!
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I couldn't help but feel moved by your story, throughout the narration you take us through the feelings that emerge within the girl.
I am glad that in the end he had a happy and sweet moment as the gift made by buddy. Very good work.
Thanks for sharing.
Good day.
Awn, thank you so much. I truly appreciate, and I’m glad so was able to make you feel something.
Just the perfect gift for his birthday, another time he will receive his chocolate, greetings!
Yeah, certainly she will!
Thanks for reading!
I loved your story. Have a nice evening
😊Thank you so much!