Three years had passed since Amara had lost her father to a fatal road accident. Life after that underwent fast and drastic changes. Her mother ended as the only breadwinner, selling vegetables in the market to feed the family.
Amara was ‘the girl whose dad drove her to school every morning.’ Now she walked long distances in worn-out shoes carrying second-hand books. She tried very hard to fit in, but her struggles were something that followed her everywhere.
In class, she smiled and laughed as the rest did, but at the back of her mind, she carried the heaviness of her reality. At lunchtime, when her companions filled the canteen, she would often just sit by herself, feigning that she was not hungry. More than once she’d mumble something about not feeling well. All in all, embarrassment struck hard for not even a penny was with her to buy any kind of snack.
Her teachers adored how bright she was but never once did this stop their companions from whispering.
“Why's she always in that same outfit?”
“Check out her bag.”
Amara pretended not to hear, and as soon as she was home, she dropped her bag and cried. Her mother held her close. “Don’t let them bring you down. One day, you’ll shine.”
But it wasn’t that simple.
One afternoon on a math test, specifically, while she was writing fervently, the pen suddenly refused to cooperate further. She shook it so hard that it rattled, pressed it but to no avail. A boy beside her snickered,.“ She can’t even afford a pen.” The whole class giggled.
Amara froze. Then Mrs. Dike asked to come to front of the class, Amara became confused. Amara thought she was in trouble. Slowly, she walked up, holding her broken pen.
Mrs. Dike put her hand in her bag and brought out a new pack of biros, reaching out to Amara with it and said affectionately, “It’s not in whatever you have that your value lies but here,” tapping Amara’s head. Someone stood up for her. And Amara was already in tears.
That evening she told her mother what happened. Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “God bless that teacher,” she said.
Amara still felt the sting of shame, but she knew she couldn’t stop. Education was her only way out.
Months passed, and she worked harder. She borrowed textbooks, stayed late in class, and studied under a kerosene lamp when there was no light. Despite everything, she stayed at the top of her class.
One day during assembly, the principal called her name. She was confused. Slowly, she walked to the stage.
“This girl,” the principal said, “has shown that determination can rise above hardship. She has been awarded a full scholarship for the rest of her schooling.”
The students clapped. Some looked shocked. Others looked guilty. Amara stood frozen, tears burning her eyes. Then she saw Mrs. Dike in the crowd, smiling at her.
Life didn’t suddenly become perfect. Her shoes were still worn. Her bag was still torn. Lunch was still a luxury. But inside, something had shifted. Amara have stopped hiding her scars.
One girl who used to laugh at Amara her name is chisom, she walked up to Amara and started to apologise to her, she admitted that Amara is stronger than her. I wish I had your courage.”
Amara starred at her for sometime and tell her apology accepted. We all have battles. Mine just shows more than yours.”
That was the first time they sat together to talk.
By her final year, Amara wasn’t known as the poor girl anymore. She was the girl who never gave up. Teachers admired her. Students respected her. Even the principal often used her story as an example.
At graduation, she gave the valedictory speech. Her mother sat in the crowd, crying proudly.
“Life didn’t give me everything I wanted,” Amara said, her voice steady. “But it gave me something better resilience. Shadows exist only because there is light. For years, I lived in shadows. But now, I know the light is in me.”
The hall erupted in applause. Her mother stood, clapping the loudest. Mrs. Dike wiped her eyes.
Amara looked out at everyone. For the first time, she wasn’t ashamed of where she came from. Her struggles had shaped her. They made her strong. And she was ready for whatever came next.
That night, at home, her mother hugged her tight. “Your father would be so proud,” she whispered.
Amara smiled. Poverty was still there, but she no longer feared it. She had learned how to shine, even in the shadows.
It's a very moving story of personal growth. Amara's difficult situation made her resilient in the face of life and made her fight even more gallantly to move forward despite all the difficulties. A very interesting story to read.
Thanks for sharing your story with us.
Excellent Thursday.
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