It was a long wait. Soon, hunger set in. I was given some money for my transport and thankfully, I had some change on me.

I stepped outside to buy a drink from a shop nearby. A woman in her early forties, sat, doing some calculations on a large calculator mostly used by provision store operators.

One tall, lanky man, looking slightly older than she was, assisted her. I doubted it was her husband. He just didn’t look it, considering the class of the woman and his shabyy dressing.

Two kids were eating in an inner part of the shop. A boy and a girl. The girl was clearly the older. Perhaps her kids. But the little boy called the man “Papa! ” to complain about some grievance regarding the sharing of some fish in the food they ate.

What could that mean? Could this shabily dressed man be the father of these kids? If so, he certainly didn’t deserve such a responsible-looking woman.

Anyway, I bought my drink and left.

By some miracle, someone was sent from my aunty’s wedding to fetch something from the house.

“Thank God! “ I exclaimed upon meeting the young man.

” I was locked outside. ” I told him.

” When did you come?” he asked me.

” This morning. ” I replied.

He handed me the key, I opened the door to our living room and helped him search for the item for which he came.

It was ribbons, tied in one black polythene bag. One of the women who helped dress up the bride forgot it.

I saw him off and returned to the room. How glad I was!

I could watch TV, take a shower, eat whatever I wanted while everyone was away.

It was good to be back home.

Living with other people who are not your family members is not easy. The maltreatment I endured, only God knows.

There was a mirror beside a washroom by our kitchen. I looked at myself in the mirror, and realized how lean I had grown.

My teachers thought I was fasting and praying for success in my final exams. They had no idea the ill-treatment I suffered in the house of that man who called himself a man of God.