The stained wooden chair creaked beneath Sandra as she sank into it, and in the dim glow of the lamp, she let out a lifeless sigh. It was barely dawn, and the sky outside tinted in the faint lavender light of early morning. Inside, the cramped living room felt thick and heavy with the scent of burning oil, mingling with the chill morning air. She tried focusing on her bible, seeking comfort in the familiar word, but her gaze kept drifting to the pile of bills that had outgrown their station on the table and are now littered about floor- ones marked "Final Notice," "Urgent," and "Overdue," each line blurring into the next.
A rooster crowed somewhere in the distance, breaking the fragile silence, and moments later, she heard soft shuffling footsteps behind her. Oggi, still rubbing his eyes, wandered into the living room in his crumpled pajamas. He paused, his wide brown eyes taking in the scattered papers. "Mommy." he murmured, his voice soft with sleep, "are those paper things why you look sad?"
Sandra turned, managing a small, tired smile as she reached out and gently brushed her hand through his jet-black hair. "Just grown-up stuff, honey," she replied, the ache in her chest only deepening at his 7-year-old innocent question. Her own eyes lingered on him; he had inherited her slender frame, but his deep, dark skin was his father's- who's passed away in a car accident, leaving her and Oggi with his small home he had built with his own hands.
She gently guided him toward the bathroom, smoothing his tousled hair as they went. "Let's get you ready for school, okay?" she murmured, washing his face, brushing his teeth, and buttoning his shirt as he blinked sleepily at her.
"Come on, let's get you some breakfast. " she said while guiding him into the small kitchen that contained the dining table. Oggi's eyes gleamed in excitement his mouth almost too full to speak. "Eat up sweetie!" she mumbled, her mind already shifting to what she could pull together for dinner.
Leaving Oggi to his breakfast, she stepped outside to gather a handful of bush leaves. The small yard was quiet, the dew still clinging to the grass as she picked the leaves with practiced hands. Returning inside, she added them to the metal cup of boiling water she'd left on the stove with some brown sugar. Just as she was pouring the tea, the bus honked outside. Sandra handed Oggi his backpack, then leaned down to press a warm kiss to his forehead. He dashed out the door, his small feet tapping lightly across the gravel as he ran to the waiting bus.
As she prepared to leave, her phone buzzed with a message from her friend, who teaches at the same school Sandra does. On the drive to work They had both been discussing the unsettling fact that they had yet to receive their salaries.
At school, the hallways bustled with students, bringing a familiar sense of order to Sandra's morning, though the news she received in the office weighed heavily on her. "There's still no salary," the secretary said, looking up at her with an apologetic shrug.
Sandra forced a nod, her frustrations tempered by a lingering sense of helplessness. She pressed on, pushing down her own concerns as she went through her lessons, giving her students her undivided attention.
Later, as she stepped outside on her lunch break, Sandra noticed a gathering down the street, where a group of people held signs high in protest. It was a rally against the impending tax increase set to take effect in just 15 days, a reality she, too, dreaded. The tension in the air resonated deeply within her; the rising costs would only make her own burdens harder to bear.
In her classroom, Sandra moved around checking on her students and noticed one boy, Elijah, slumped over his desk, his face drawn with worry. She leaned down beside him, her voice soft. "Elijah, is everything okay?"
Elijah's face reddened slightly, and he lowered his eyes. "I... I didn't have breakfast," he mumbled, barely lifting his gaze.
Sandra's heart twisted, and she slipped her hand into her purse, finding her last $10 bill. She handed it to him with a gentle smile. "Here, Elijah. Go get yourself something to eat, okay?"
Relief washed over his face, and he looked up at her, eyes brimming with gratitude. "Thank you, Miss. I... I really appreciate it."
Sandra felt warmth in his gaze, a reminder of why she kept going despite her own hardships. She smiled, watching him hurry off, grateful for small moments that made her sacrifices feel worthwhile.
The days turned into a grueling cycle for Sandra, her week divided between the classroom and her late shifts as a hotel cleaner. She often returned home with aching limbs, her hands dry and sore from scrubbing floors. Oggi was always asleep by the time she got in, leaving her with little time to spend with him. The separation gnawed at her, filling her with a sense of guilt and inadequacy she couldn't shake. She'd taken the job to keep their heads above water, yet it felt as though she was drowning in the strain.
On their weekly grocery trips, Oggi began to notice the absence of his favorite snacks, his small hand reaching out for boxes she no longer grabbed. His face would fall, though he tried to hide it, and Sandra's heart broke a little more each time. She'd find herself averting her eyes, focusing instead on the bare essentials as she mentally counted her remaining bills. The rising costs were relentless, and with the government's failure to pay her teaching salary, there was no end in sight.
One evening, Sandra was leaning against her porch railing, a cigarette between her fingers, talking quietly to Mrs. Roberts, her elderly neighbor who'd been a steady confidante over the years. "I don't know how much longer I can do this, Mrs. Roberts," she murmured, exhaling slowly. "I can't give him the life he deserves... can barely keep food on the table." Her voice wavered, and Mrs. Roberts reached over, squeezing her hand in silent solidarity.
Neither of them noticed Oggi's small figure listening through the cracked window, his face etched with worry as he pieced together words like "bills," "work," and "not enough." For the first time, he felt a new, uneasy sense of helplessness.
Later that night, Sandra tucked Oggi into bed, brushing his forehead gently. "I'm right here, okay? Just get some sleep, sweetie," she whispered, her eyes lingering on him as he drifted off. She stepped outside again, lighting another cigarette to calm her nerves, only to hear Oggi's coughs echoing from inside. Her heart pounded as she stubbed out the cigarette and rushed back in to find him feverish and shivering under the covers.
Sandra's worry deepened with each passing hour, and by morning, she took him to the nearby clinic. The doctor, a kind-faced man with a steady voice, assured her it was a common illness but emphasized the importance of keeping him on medication. "I'll give you a discount on the prescription, and here are a few samples to get you started," he said, placing the medication in her hands. Sandra's eyes brimmed with gratitude.
This moment marked a shift within her; she knew she couldn't wait any longer for relief that might never come. She resolved to go to the government offices herself, ready to demand her wages, ready to stand up not just for her own dignity, but for Oggi's well-being.
The next day, after an exhausting round of calls and a tense confrontation with a clerk, Sandra was given a promise: her wages would come by the end of the month. It wasn't everything, but it was a glimmer of relief she desperately needed.
Back home, Mrs. Roberts and a few other neighbors came by, bringing homemade soup, extra blankets, and fresh vegetables. They offered her comfort and solidarity, becoming the support, she'd always felt too proud to ask for. For the first time, Sandra felt the weight on her shoulders ease just a little.
Though their financial struggles remained, Sandra found strength in the community around her. She and Oggi faced each day with resilience, buoyed by the small acts of kindness that reminded them they weren't alone in their journey. The love and support of their neighbors offered Sandra and Oggi a renewed sense of hope, a steady light through the darkest of times.
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Tags And Sacrifices
Short Story**Preface** Amid daily struggles and societal pressures, the story of Sandra and her son Oggi unfolds-a poignant reflection on the resilience of a single mother navigating the challenges of inflation and unpaid wages. As Sandra grapples with her res...
