Writers 
Throughout the night, Mama could not sleep.
She moved around the house, packing everything she could possibly carry. The things we could not take with us the bed, table, chairs, and other belongings were sold for whatever little money she could get. Nothing was too small to matter, and nothing was too big to leave behind if we could not carry it.
There was nowhere for me to sleep either. My room had been taken over by the bags and loads we were packing, so I spent the night in the sitting room, curled up on top of our belongings.
Before the morning was fully awake, we were already on the road.
Mama stopped a bus heading to Buscon. I wasn't sure if Buscon was a town or a city. I only remembered the name because it was the first destination I heard that morning.
When we arrived, the driver helped us bring down our loads. Mama paid him, then walked confidently toward the gate of a very large mansion. She knocked.
Nobody came. She knocked again.
Eventually, the gatekeeper appeared.
“The owners of the house have travelled outside the country,” he told her.
Mama looked confused. She quickly brought out her small phone and checked the address again. Then came the painful realization. We were in the wrong place. Mama immediately called her sister, who carefully directed us to the correct address. After another journey, we finally arrived.
This time, there was no beautiful mansion waiting for us. The compound was extremely crowded and noisy. People were everywhere. Some were playing games, others were betting, washing clothes, cooking, arguing and doing all sorts of things. Everyone seemed to have their own business, and nobody seemed bothered by the noise.
It was a ghetto.
Mama's elder sister came outside the three storey building when she saw us. She was happy to see us and quickly called her four daughters to help carry our belongings inside.
Our new home was cramped. There was a sitting room and a bedroom, but no proper kitchen. Mama shared the bedroom with her sister, while I slept in the sitting room with her four daughters. We were all around the same age, so they welcomed me quickly. Those girls became my first friends in that strange environment.
Mama began taking whatever work she could find. She worked as a cleaner, house help, roadside seller anything that could put food on the table. I also helped whenever I could.
Mama and her sister joined hands to provide food, clothing and shelter for all of us. But Mama often complained that she contributed more while her sister and her four daughters consumed more. Still, she endured.
I returned to school with my cousins, but even the school was located inside the same rough environment.
As a teenager, I saw things I had never seen before smoking, drinking, drugs and other dangerous activities.
Some things I desperately wanted to avoid. But sometimes, saying no was not enough. When I caught the girls smoking secretly one day, they pulled me aside and forced a cigarette into my mouth. That was how it started.
Smoking. Drinking. And being introduced to things I had never wanted. Deep down, I never liked any of it. Mama knew what was happening and constantly warned me. I listened, but listening did not make escaping any easier. I was naturally shy, although I loved asking questions. The new environment was supposed to make me tougher and more outspoken.
Instead, it made me quieter. And while I was becoming more withdrawn, I was also being pulled deeper into a life I had never chosen.
