My uncles and aunts brought bills to be paid. Without hesitation, they paid themselves and left a debt of GH₵2,000.00 for us to pay. When they realised that we wouldn’t be able to pay, they used that as a collateral of an excuse and first of all took my father’s farmland from us. It was sad because we had two acres of land full of maize which was almost due for harvest. When I entered SHS, my father began to cultivate more of his land that he had inherited from his grandfather through his father to be able to sell some crops for my fees.
My father had foreseen the task ahead; the task of my admission into a tertiary institution, so he had cultivated almost the entire farmland. It was farm of mixed cropping. So apart from maize, there were cassava, a mixture of plantain and banana which we were still planting before my father left. We had begun to introduce cocoyam to the farm as well. We had no voice because there was no one to speak for us. The chief who should have been the judge was bought with a fat goat which was seized from my father’s livestock. My mother was tagged a killer as we were left with nothing. What to eat became a tug of war which we lived with peacefully.
Hopelessness armoured us and we lived like orphans. Amidst this gloom came a ray of hope, one day. The post manager sent for me one afternoon. When I got there, the letter of admission which I had been expecting before my father died was handed over to me. Tears rolled down my cheeks. My heart sank into the mud of sorrow and anger and I nearly put the envelope containing the letter into a gutter. But patience overrode my pains and I walked home. When I got home to open the letter, my mother’s tears were like running water along a hill down its valleys.
As fate would have it, my hope had its resurrection when I saw and read from the two separate letters in the envelope. In one letter, I was offered admission and in the other, my education was fully covered from admission to graduation since I was the applicant with the best grades to have applied for the medical course. My bills, ranging from school fees, right through to my feeding were all going to be taken care of. To the memory of my father I dedicated my success. That was how I left the village. My greedy uncles and aunts were astonished and ashamed to the core. They wanted to zero down God’s plan in my life but He showed them that He is the God who fetches water with a basket and not even a drop falls.
I discussed with my mother the way forward and she advised that I go to the city to meet the people in charge before it was time to fully begin school. She added that doing that would also give me the opportunity to also acclimatise myself with the new environment. I put all the necessary preparations in place for the journey. The very night before my departure, our hut caught fire. As to how the devil is able to put rough rocks very close to innocent eggs and any little turn or shake could get them broken beat me. How would I now go to school? Would this tragic event not be good news for my uncles and aunts? Would my father’s dream ever see the day’s light in this dense doom?


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