Notelet IV: Silent Scars

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