Little Songbird

When I got home it was almost dark and the moon was finally taking over from the sun. We lived in a new settlement, so many of the makeshift homes, like ours, were wooden kiosks owned by squatters or people who were lucky to have the landowners allow them to live on their land until they were ready to build. It had taken longer than usual to sell my goods that day, and as I walked down the quiet, narrow, rough road that led home, I dreamt of a quick wash behind the kiosk, and hopefully, some food and a fitful sleep. 

As soon as I turned the last corner to our kiosk and saw her smiling I knew I wouldn’t get any of those things. I was exhausted from street hawking, my dusty flip-flop-shon feet and sweaty body evidence of the long distance I walked to sell my daily portion of the plantain chips my mother makes, but I could see that it wasn’t going to be one of those days where I would get easy rest.

“Did you sell everything?” she demanded before I even set my dented metal hawking tray on the wooden table that had seen better days. 

I didn’t expect her to ask me how I was or if I was tired – she never did.

 “Yes, Ma,” I responded, taking the day’s sales from my apron and handing it to her. She snatched it without counting, trusting that it would be intact. 

“You have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight. Nii is coming, and you know you can’t be here when he comes.”

I didn’t feel sad, just resigned. I knew as soon as I saw her happy mood that I would be sleeping outside. It was part of my reality that could not be changed, and I had learned long ago not to dwell on things I could not change.

“I am dirty, Ma. Please, can I wash up first?” I pleaded.

I hated being dirty; it was one reality as a result of daily hawking in a dusty environment that I couldn’t get used to even though it happened with some regularity.

She seemed to consider the request before shaking her head. “You took too long to sell your chips. He will be here soon and I don’t want to anger him today. You have to leave before he comes.”

“Yes, Ma,” I answered, wondering where I would be able to comfortably rest without being chased away by owners or feasted on by mosquitoes. She never asked where I slept on those nights that he came around and I had to sleep elsewhere. She didn’t care. Snatching my thin folded cloth from the carrier bag containing my belongings, I put it into one of the small, black plastic bags we package our plantain chips in.

“Bye, Ma. See you tomorrow,” I called out as I left. 

“Find out if one of those people will want you to stay with them long-term as a maid or something,” she called back. “Nii wants us to get married and you know he doesn’t like seeing you around.”

“Yes, Ma,” I responded, although I  wondered who would want me when my own mother didn’t. I had learned not to talk back at her; it served no purpose except to merit a slap on the cheek or an empty stomach to bed. So, with my polythene bag stuffed with my sleeping cloth, I turned back the way I came from; hungry, dirty, and exhausted, hoping that I would find a quiet surface to sleep on until the next morning.

Three hours later I still didn’t have a place to sleep. I had been chased away from the bench outside the church I usually slept on because there was an All Night Church Service, so the church was still open and the security man was stern. I didn’t know what the time was, but it was dark, and most of the shops were closing. There were a few already-closed shops that had space in front where I could have slept, but the grown-up area boys were there and I was afraid of them. Especially since some of them liked to touch my butt when nobody was looking.

I walked across the street in the opposite direction where the nice houses were. I usually avoided the nice areas because they were quicker to shout at me to go away, and sometimes that scared me. It was getting late now and windy, but this area was well-lit with street lights and bright outside lights from the nice houses, and a few people were walking around. I stopped at the end of the first street in front of a small pretty house, admiring the all-white paint and large dark windows with grey frames. The hibiscus flowers planted in the small garden outside the walls attracted me, and walking over for a better look, I wondered what it would be like to sleep in a house that had bright lights and hibiscus planted outside the walls. As long as I could remember, I had lived in the small kiosk on the other side of town with my mother. 

Dreaming about sleeping in a white house with a hibiscus garden one day, I sang my favourite song; a popular song my sister had taught me to sing whenever I was sad or hopeful for something.

I shall overcome,

I shall overcome,

I shall overcome, someday.

Deep in my heart, I do believe,

I shall overcome someday. 

Singing the song filled me with joy and made me smile, so, gazing at the beautiful red flowers, I sang my song over and over again until I heard someone call out to me. 

“Songbird! Is that you?” 

I turned and couldn’t help smiling wider. “Auntie Aku!”

She smiled back, walking toward me. “I’ve told you to just call me Aku.”

But I couldn’t. She wasn’t as old as my mother, but it was hard for me to call older women just by their names. She was my English teacher’s friend, and she had heard me sing at school several times during school events. 

“You have such a beautiful voice, Shika. You’re like a little songbird,” she had said the first time and called me that ever since.

Looking around now, she frowned. “What are you doing out here at this time?”

I shifted nervously on my foot. I didn’t want to get my mother into trouble. Auntie Aku’s frown deepened when she took a closer look and saw how dirty and sweaty I was. 

“And why are you so dirty? What happened to you?”

“I was out selling plantain chips today,” I explained, feeling self-conscious about my dirtiness. 

“I see,” she commented, but I could tell she didn’t.

“And where is your mother?”

I hesitated. “She’s home, Auntie.”

“Does she know you’re out at this time? It’s dangerous for a girl your age to be wandering the streets by now.”

“She– she knows I’m not home, Auntie,” I told her, unsure how to answer. 

“And what’s that?” she asked, nodding at the plastic bag in my hand.

“My– my sleeping cloth, Auntie,” I responded. 

She stared at me for a while, unsure of what to make of me and the situation. She finally sighed and shook her head, walking toward the gate of the white house I had been dreaming about earlier. 

“I can’t leave you out here alone. Come with me.” 

Shocked that she lived there and would allow me into her fine house, I scurried after her, wondering if she would let me sleep on the floor somewhere in her compound. After unlocking the front gate, she pushed it open and locked it again behind us. There was a small compound with more beautiful flowers in pots along the walkway, and potted green plants lined up in front of the porch. It was a very nice porch, and I wondered if she would allow me to sleep there. 

While she unlocked the front door, I pointed to the lovely porch where we were standing, asking with what I hoped was a convincing expression, “Auntie, please, can I sleep there?”

The hand that was turning the knob paused, and she turned to frown at me in confusion. “Here?”

“I swear I won’t be any trouble at all. I will sweep your compound in the morning before I leave. Please,” I pressed, pleading my case. 

She stared at me with a sad expression that confused me. 

“I’m not leaving you out here either, Songbird. You’re coming inside with me.”

My eyes widened in shock when she pushed the door open and gestured for me to go inside. I wanted to rush in so badly, but I couldn’t believe she wanted me inside her fine house. “Me? Are you sure? I’m dirty, Auntie.”

Auntie Aku gave me a patient smile. “That’s why you’re going to have a shower first. Come inside and let me shut the door before mosquitoes precede us.” 

She said that bit in English, and even though some of her English was too fancy for me to understand, the word “mosquitoes” was clear enough, so I followed her inside. 

While she locked the door behind us, I gawked at the fanciest room I’d ever been in. The cream and blue living room was elegant but inviting, just like its owner. The floor was covered with white and cream-coloured marble tiles, and the cream matched the colour of the sofa set. Her walls were cream too, but the curtains were blue with scattered cream streaks. The television on the wall was bigger than any I had ever seen except on TV– it was even bigger than the ones Mr. Kodua displayed for sale at his shop on the next street from our kiosk. There were pictures on the wall as well. Some were of Auntie Aku and others were pictures of her and other people that looked like her family.

I wanted to ask her if she lived in the nice house alone but I had learned not to ask adults too many questions and I didn’t want to risk ruining my good fortune by angering her. “You have a very fine house,” I told her instead, which made her smile.

“Thank you, Shika. Have you eaten this evening?”

The question surprised me because I had forgotten about my hunger. I was so used to skipping meals that my stomach learned not to make too much of a fuss when it didn’t get filled. However, this time it answered the question for me with a loud grumble, knowing it might get lucky.

Auntie Aku chuckled. “I guess I got my answer. I’m going to heat this food,” she shook the white plastic bag she was holding, and I realised she must have gone out to purchase food. 

“By the time you’re done cleaning up, the food should be ready.”

She dropped the bag on the table in the attached dining area and led me to a beautiful bathroom that I could easily sleep in. After teaching me how to turn all the fancy knobs, Auntie Aku gave me a towel and a sweet-smelling shower gel. “I don’t have a spare sponge so this will have to do. You can pee or do number 2 if you need to before you shower. I’ll go and find some clothes that will not be too big for you. Just call out if you need anything.” 

Still in disbelief about my good fortune that night, I assured her that I understood and proceeded to have the best bath of my life.

About twenty minutes later, showered and dressed in a large T-shirt that looked like a dress on me, I sat with her at her dining table to eat while she asked me questions. 

After she assured me that I could talk freely and nobody would get into trouble, I told her everything she wanted to know while shovelling delicious jollof rice into my hungry mouth. 

“How old are you, Songbird?”

“I’m 11,” I told her.

“Why were you outside today?”

“My mother’s new boyfriend doesn’t like me so when he comes I have to sleep elsewhere,” I informed her matter-of-factly. 

Seeing the expression on her face, I added quickly, “I don’t really mind though. He makes her smile and usually, I can sleep on the bench outside the church. Except that today the security sacked me so I had to look for another place.”

She stopped eating to stare quietly at me. I could tell that she was struggling to keep her face neutral but I couldn’t understand why.

“I see,” she commented in a choked voice. “And your father?”

“I don’t know him. Ma said he chased us away. It was my fault.”

I stuffed some more rice into my mouth. 

“Eat the chicken too,” she encouraged, making me smile. I was saving it for last because I rarely ever got to eat chicken, especially one this big, but I responded “Yes, Auntie,” and obediently broke off a piece to eat. It was the best thing I’d ever tasted. 

“How was it your fault, Shika?” she asked casually. 

It took me a second to understand what she was asking, how it was my fault that my dad chased us away. Swallowing the food in my mouth, I answered, “I was supposed to be a boy. After my sister was born, my father said my mother must have a boy next. But I wasn’t a boy so he sacked us.”

She closed her eyes briefly, and I thought she might be tired. When she opened them, she looked sad. “Where is your sister?”

I smiled when I remembered my elder sister. She was the best. “Naa Shormeh lives by herself. Well, she shares the room with her friends. She sells second-hand clothes during the day and dances in a bar sometimes at night. When she saves enough money, she will come and get me so that we can live together. But now she just pays for my school stuff and gives me money and clothes when she comes to visit.”

“I see. How old is she?”

“She’s 15 but she looks older so she tells everybody she’s 18.”

“And she doesn’t go to school herself?”

I shook my head, sipping some of my water. “She said one of us has to turn out better than where we came from, and it’s too late for her but she has to work to make sure I become somebody.”

“She sounds like a wonderful sister,” Auntie Aku responded, wiping at her face. 

“Give me a second,” she choked out, rushing out of the room. I wondered if I had said something to upset her and hoped I hadn’t. I wanted to convince her to let me sleep on the dining room floor. Or maybe I could just sit in the chair and rest my head on the table. They all looked like comfortable options. 

When she returned, I had finished the food on my plate, and she looked like she had washed her face. Taking the plates, she asked me to follow her to the kitchen. 

“Auntie Aku please let me wash them,” I cried in distress when she picked up the sponge at the sink. I was trying not to gawk too much. Her kitchen was neat and shiny, and the grey cabinets looked pretty. I had never been in such a kitchen before. I thought it would be such a great place to sleep as well. Maybe I could ask her to sleep here instead. The tiles were so smooth. The problem with the house was that there were so many places I could sleep comfortably and I couldn’t decide where to request.

“Don’t worry, Shika. It is just two plates. Maybe you can wash next time.”

Next time? I didn’t think she meant it the way it sounded, but I smiled anyway because the idea of eating here again with her sounded like a sweet dream.

When we were done, we went back to the living room. I went to sit on the floor, but she pulled me up to sit by her. “There are so many empty seats, Shika. Why would you think I want you to sit on the floor?” 

She asked the question like she couldn’t understand me, but I thought she was the strange one for allowing me so many liberties in her fine house.

Auntie Aku asked more questions about my life, and I told her everything she wanted to know. She seemed to get sadder, and I didn’t understand why. 

“Do you have a way to contact your sister? I would like to talk to her too,” she finally said.

“I have memorised her number. She told Baaba at the junction to allow me to make a call anytime I needed to. She always pays her when she comes.” 

“Okay, since tomorrow is Sunday and you don’t have to go to school, we can call her in the morning.”

“Yes, Auntie. Please, can I sleep in your kitchen?” I asked, finally making up my mind about where to sleep.

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and I wondered if the kitchen was too much. I could sleep on the porch instead.

“Come,” she said, rising. 

I followed her to a nice bedroom with a double bed and a small dresser. 

“You will sleep here instead.”

My eyes flew to hers in surprise. “Thank you, Auntie!” 

I crouched on the marble tiles to feel the cool floor, spotting a nice position next to the bed. “Let me get my sleeping cloth. I think this floor will be the best place I’ve ever slept.”

Her eyes filled, and she pulled me onto the bed. “Not on the floor, Songbird. You’re sleeping on the bed.”

Shocked, I moved around to feel the mattress, and my eyes filled too when my body felt the softness of a bed for the first time in my 11 years on earth. Nobody else had been so kind to me except my sister. 

“Thank you so much, Auntie. This is the best day of my life.”

She pulled me forward to hug me, sniffing softly. “I’m glad I went out to get food tonight. I’ll make sure you never have to sleep on the floor again, Little Songbird.” 

Long after she had left me to sleep, I stayed awake on the soft bed, humming softly to myself:

I shall overcome, 

I shall overcome,

I shall overcome, someday.

Deep in my heart, I do believe,

I shall overcome someday.  

And so I did.