No food to eat.
That night she listened to the city buzzing around her—the laughter of young girls nearby, the roar of passing cars, the voices of boys playing loud music under the bridge—and she closed her eyes.
If I die tonight, she thought, I hope someone buries me like a human being. I hope I get to see Agu just once.
But fate was not yet done.
It was only beginning to open a door.
A door that would turn Sarah’s pain into purpose and bring light to the darkest chapter of her life.
Because sometimes, just before the miracle, comes the breaking.
And Sarah was at her lowest.
But the highest was coming.
The next morning arrived without ceremony.
No rooster crowed. No warm sun greeted her.
Only hunger.
Sarah lay on her side beneath the concrete bridge, her body curled tightly like a child trying to disappear into itself. Her wrapper barely covered her trembling frame. The ache in her stomach had grown sharper.
It was not just hunger.
It was desperation.
The sachet water she had drunk the night before was long gone from her system. The paracetamol had dulled the fever, but there was nothing to take the edge off the gnawing pain in her belly.
She had no money.
No bananas to hawk.
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