Unexpected love

Part 7: Whispers of Solitude

I woke up on Sunday morning, the sun already filtering through the small window of our cramped room.

The usual sounds of the house the shuffling of feet, the low hum of conversations were already filling the air. It was just another day in Ghana, where survival was the name of the game.

And no, don't ask if I went to church. In this place, church was a luxury we couldn't afford. Here, it was about keeping your head down, working hard, and hoping that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow would be better than today.

We lived like prisoners, always indoors, eyes glued to our laptops, working tirelessly for a future that seemed uncertain. But don't get me wrong our morning devotions were non-negotiable.

We may not have gone to church, but we always found time to pray, to ask for strength to face another day.

After our short devotion, I decided to do something productive wash my clothes. It was one of those tasks that nobody wanted to do but had to be done anyway.

I gathered my dirty laundry and made my way to the washing area. As I got started, I noticed something that made me grit my teeth in frustration.

Two of the guys, the ones who thought they were the big shots of the house, had added their dirty clothes to my pile.
Are you kidding me?" I muttered under my breath, glaring at the extra clothes. But I knew better than to confront them. In this place, standing up to the wrong person could mean trouble. So, I bit my tongue and got on with it, cursing them silently as I scrubbed away.

As I washed, my thoughts drifted back to the decision I had made the day before. I needed to go back to my cold self, the version of me that didn't care, that didn't let anyone in.

Attachments only led to pain, and I had had enough of that to last a lifetime.

Animals are better than humans, I thought bitterly, scrubbing harder than necessary. At least they don't pretend to be something they're not.
It's crazy how someone can come into your life, seem like a friend, and then tear you apart without a second thought. No, I couldn't go through that again. I wouldn't.

I made up my mind then and there I wasn't going to talk to Sarah that day.
I wasn't going to respond to her messages. It shouldn't be that hard, right? After all, I had nothing to do with her, no real connection. It was better this way.

After finishing the laundry, I sought out my old friends, the ones who knew me from back home. Tallest, Musa, Emmanuel, and Honest we had all grown up in the same area, but Musa and I had always been the closest.

Sunday mornings were our free time, a rare opportunity to reminisce about the life we left behind.

Remember how we used to play football every Sunday morning back home? Musa said, a wistful smile on his face.

Yeah, those were the days, Honest replied, his voice tinged with nostalgia. Freedom, real freedom. We didn't have to worry about anything.

I miss that,I admitted, feeling a pang of longing. Life was simpler back then.

We laughed and joked about our childhood, but beneath the surface, I felt a growing sense of despair.

While the others talked about their plans, their hopes of one day making it back home, I couldn't help but think, I'll never make it out of here.
Life was getting harder by the day, and the weight of it all was crushing me.

Sometimes, late at night when the others were asleep, I would lie awake and cry. Yeah, I know what you're thinking Why would a man cry?

But you don't understand the depth of suffering I've been through, the kind of pain that digs deep into your soul and refuses to let go. Few people know my life history, and honestly, it's better that way.

I sighed, thinking of Blessing, my soul sister. A friend in need is a friend indeed, they say, and she was that and more. When I needed help, she was there, without hesitation. May God bless her for me. Amen.

But as much as I appreciated her, I knew I had to deal with my own demons. And right now, those demons were telling me to keep my distance from everyone, especially Sarah.

The thought of her made me uneasy, like a splinter that I couldn't remove. I didn't want to get close to any woman again, didn't want to risk the pain that came with it.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I spent time with the guys, watched some movies, and did everything I could to keep my mind off Sarah.

But she was like a persistent itch, always at the back of my mind.

Damn it, I muttered to myself as I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling. She should just leave me alone.
But even as I said it, I knew it wasn't that simple. Something had changed, and I wasn't sure I liked it.

The questions that haunted me from the day before returned, stronger than ever. What am I doing? Why can't I just let this go?

As I drifted off to sleep, the uncertainty gnawed at me, a whisper in the dark that refused to be silenced. And I knew, deep down, that this was far from over.