Miranda Tumbo cursed the day she was born. Now in a make-shift mud house she wondered what would become of her. Her 4 stones weight was nothing compared to the pain she felt for her widowed mother. Since her father abandoned her and her mother at the age of just 4 and later died, she had been her mother's rock. A normal everyday routine of  going to fetch water at the river had turned into the day she would never forget. No one could have predicted that the summer of 2016 would be any different. She had gotten up as she usually did at 5.00am and got herself ready for her day's chores before school. School was her everything and it made the chores seem like nothing. She went down the well-trodden path to fetch water for her mother for the daily activities before heading to school. This time around, she didn't return.
​"Leave me alone, leave me alone", she screamed. "Please, I am all my mother has in this world. What do you want from me". The traffickers, three hefty men just laughed as they swung her from one to the other. She was like a package to them. She couldn't make out what they were saying but she knew her life was about to change. Fear gripped her heart and her whole body trembled as her clothes were ripped from her in shreds. Before she knew it she was on the floor. She didn't know what happened next since she blacked out. Now in this thatched, dark and small house, she awaited her fate. Her whole dress soaked in blood. She again heard whispers in the dark of the night. This time although she could not make out what was said, she felt the seriousness of the content of the conversation. Her eyes pricked as she heard her name. Her whole body slumped to the ground as she also heard Morocco then Greece. At 14, she hardly knew the world outside of her beloved Africa but she did know that people were being sold as slaves to other countries. If only she had listened intently to the missionaries when they talked about life in other places. Her heart ache after these 2 months was not so much about her as it was for her mother. Was she okay? Had she died out of heartbreak?
​Miranda remembered that the most recent missionary had said to her that if all else fails, pray. Pray to who she contemplated. Well, she opened up her mouth and started to talk silently. Miranda said, "to the unknown heavenly Father, please help me escape and lead me back to my mama safely. Keep and protect her". Her prayer was cut short as one of the men opened a crack in the house and was about to lay his hands on her when he was suddenly brought to his knees. Chuna, still in a bowing  position told her in her own dialect, little girl, ran as far as you can to the hills before the others wake up. Miranda was now very confused but didn't question him.
​She ran as far as her legs could carry her to the hills. From the hills she walked for almost 4 days till she came to a village. There she recounted her story. The locals delegated a man no more than 30 years in age to take her safely to her mother after feeding her. 7 days after leaving the unnamed house, Miranda stood face to face with a woman who was stricken with grief, head bowed. Mama Tumbo, she said. The lady jolted up as she recalled who's voice it belong to. Mama Tumbo could only stare as she couldn't believe her eyes. Miranda fell in the arms of the only person who mattered to her. Her silent scars mattered less. She looked up to the heavens and in her heart of hearts said a silent thank you to the unknown father.

​You are quintessentially special,
​Love Abba

Lydia looked at herself in the mirror of the ornate bathroom. She'd just won the Industry Leader Award. All the week-ends behind closed doors over those journals had paid off. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been on a date. She was sure her eHarmony and Match.com accounts had long been deactivated. Her family hardly saw her. Who could blame her. She had been working her way up. Education was her life ticket.
Now at 31 she was at the top of her career. Now what? Who is this woman that looked right back at her? She'd made a lot of sacrifices but this sacrifice had been the most painful of all. She'd come to the point of bleaching her skin to the extent that she didn't even recognise herself. Why was she feeling guilty? Everyone who was anyone was doing it. What had been wrong with her Caucasian rich skin? Nothing only that she knew she would not get far in the male dominated world of engineering like she was before. She had reinvented herself literally. "Who cares", she murmured to herself. " I am living in my dream condo with my flashy car and my $500 per hour charge". As she looked at herself in the mirror thinking it over, a thought struck her, why was she conforming to the standards of what others thought was acceptable to get ahead? Right there and then tears stared to stream down her near perfect make-up.
​The memory of her father made her cry the more. Silently, she said, "father, I have disappointed you and let go of your sayings. Father, never again will I fell less than and change who I am. If I want to whiten my skin, it will only be to enhance the beauty I already possess. It will not be because I want to fit in or feel the need to in order to get ahead in life. If I choose not to, that is also okay because it is by my hard work that I will stand before men that matter".
​Just at that moment she heard her name being called for a second award.

You Are Quintessentially Special,
​Love Abba

Nadine knew she was in the rut she was in because of her obstinate ways. She just never listened. Nadine did things Nadine's way, period. Her whole family knew that. Her colleagues at Hope Memorial Hospital were all to aware of her character. This time she'd met her match in Wesley Matchlock. They'd met at a charity event raising awareness about single parent families and their struggles. Nadine was there as a volunteer to man 'Silent Cries' table as per her bi-yearly commitment. Wesley was there out of curiosity having built some low-cost housing to house homeless single parent households in his last project at Build A Home Architectures. He'd secretly loved the project more than he let on as these not-for-profit opportunities were far and few between.

Now in their second year living together Nadine knew that she'd again made the same mistake with Curtis, her last boyfriend. How did she fast forward a relationship and move in so quickly within three weeks of getting to know Wesley. To complicate matters, she now had a 3 year old to think about. Carli Joslin deserved better, she deserved better. Enough with all the tears, a stop to all the scars on her upper arm she'd cleverly tried to hid. Emotionally she was a wreck. Mentally she had to take a decision fast before she lost it. Physically she was thinning fast.

She knew Wesley loved her. Did she even know what love looked like? Is this the price she had to pay for intimacy? Would she come out of this abusive relationship and alive at that? Would Wesley start on CJ when he was tired of using her as a punching bag? These questions taunted Nadine's mind but she didn't have time to waste. Wesley was drunk and in a deep sleep. If she had to leave it was now or never. She bundled CJ up in her clothes, slang a small size travel bag of essentials over her right shoulder and silently slid outside into the deep night.

What next? All Nadine could think about was to escape. Now she run as fast as her feet could take her up the hill and down the other side. At this point, CJ had woken up with all the jostling and was bawling.

She looked around her surroundings and lo and behold Mr. Regetaw, a man similar in age to her father was coming back from a trip. Come with me, Nadine and child he said. I will keep you safe and warm and tomorrow everything will be alright.

Nadine knew she had escaped never to return to a life less than.

You are quintessentially special,
Love Abba

{Note to reader: Abba is translated as father in a few languages}

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At 16, Lacey Dandsforth couldn't envisage life any better. Through her family's connections she'd been offered a place at the prestigious Weatherford Girls Institute. She would not be alone as her childhood bestie, Grace Linderfield had also been accepted at the Institute (on merit) but who cared. Lacey had carefully handpicked her attires, statement pieces some shipped from far and wide to stand out as she always did and to dazzle the boys at Manor Springfield a stone throw away. In fact any clothing Lacey wore would have been a hit. She was as her grandmama said, 'easy on the eye'. Her long, flowing jet black hair over a near sculpted face and curvaceous body was a sight to behold. She almost looked more mature than her age. As for boys, they lined up to her beck and call including seniors. She had them in abundance for her family's annual Christmas soirées. Lately she'd been thinking who would be the lucky guy to escort her to the matriculation ball.
Lacey Dandsforth looked around at the castle like building known as Weatherford Girls to the chatter all around her. Getting out of her green Cadillac she noticed a somewhat pretty girl strolling past her. She thought, 'I bet she got in here on a scholarship'. This would later be true for the girl looked plain. What attracted Lacey to this girl wasn't the gold specks in her eyes neither was it her broad smile. She couldn't put her finger on it but this girl had something, an aura. She quickly introduced herself to Destiny Praline or Dee as she liked to be known.
Dee hurry up! You know I don't like being late to events especially the Matriculation ball. Lacey went into a reverie about all the teeming, dashing young men who would ask her for a dance. Dee stepped out looking modest in her black silhouette dress compared to Lacey's bronze, figure - hugging one-piece suit.
Dee found Lacey's head buried in her face, a ruffled sight to behold. 'I missed you for the last dance', Dee spoke. 'What happened'? Between heavy sobs, Lacey recounted to her 'only' friend how Ben Stewart had tried to grope her at the punch station even though she'd repeatedly and firmly asked him to stop. He later embarrassed her to his friends for being a party pooper.
Dee, Lacey after a long pause asked, 'why aren't you bothered for the boys' attention like most of us'? Are you in a long distant relationship!? 'No, I am not in any relationship if you must know. Like any girl I like the attention of men but I like more the attention of my father. I am a daddy's girl and my father tells me each time he calls to say I am special. That is enough for me. I know one day my husband will say the same but between now and then I am a daddy's girl and he says I have it all'. 'I believe him'.

Lacey started sobbing uncontrollably. She wanted so much to be a daddy's girl.

My quintessentially special,

Love Abba

{Note to reader: Abba is translated as father in a few languages}

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