The morning sun bathed the small fishing village in golden light as Nia hung freshly washed clothes on the line. Zion, her five-year-old son, darted between her legs, pretending to be a superhero.
"Zion, yuh nah stop run up an' dung? Yuh wah mash up di place?" Nia called, pausing to adjust a stubborn sheet.
"Mi a save di world, Mummy!" Zion grinned, holding a stick he'd fashioned into a sword.
"Save yuh energy fi school later," she chuckled, swatting at him playfully. "An' nuh dirty yuhself! Yuh uniform deh pon di chair."
Their small yard was alive with the sounds of the village waking up. Fishermen shouted greetings as they prepared their boats, and vendors set up stalls by the roadside, their calls mingling with the distant hum of reggae music.
Nia glanced toward the horizon, where the sea shimmered under the sun. It was beautiful, but beauty didn't pay bills. She sighed, thinking about her shift at Miss Ivy's café.
"Mummy, mi hungry," Zion whined, tugging at her skirt.
She bent down to his level, brushing a curl from his face. "Mi know, baby. Gimme five minutes, and mi fry up some egg an' bread."
Zion nodded, his big brown eyes lighting up. He was the joy of her life, even though raising him alone was a struggle. The villagers had plenty to say about her being a single mother, but she'd learned to ignore their whispers.
As she stepped into the small wooden house, her mother's voice rang out from the neighboring yard. "Nia! Yuh see di time? Yuh late already?"
"Mi a come, Mama!" Nia shouted back, rolling her eyes.
Her mother, Miss Gloria, had been her rock since Zion was born, but she was also her harshest critic.
"Yuh cyaan keep running late, Nia," Miss Gloria scolded, appearing at the doorway. "Miss Ivy nuh play wid her time. Yuh nuh want lose dat job!"
"Mi nah lose mi job, Mama. Mi soon ready." Nia cracked an egg into a pan, her movements brisk.
Miss Gloria sighed, eyeing Zion. "An' yuh need fi find a man, Nia. Zion need a father figure. Yuh cyaan do it all by yuhself."
Nia's grip on the spatula tightened. "Mama, mi good. Zion good. Mi nuh need no man fi dat."
Her mother tutted. "Yuh too stubborn. Yuh tink yuh can fight di whole world by yuhself?"
"Mi nuh fightin' nobody, Mama. Mi just livin' mi life."
Miss Gloria threw up her hands. "Alright, do what yuh waan. But one day, yuh gwine see mi right."
Nia didn't respond, focusing on plating Zion's breakfast. Her mother meant well, but she didn't understand. Nia wasn't ready to let another man into her life, not after what Marcus had done.
By the time she and Zion stepped out of the house, the village was buzzing with activity. She kissed his cheek before sending him off to school.
"Behave yuhself, Zion. Mi love yuh," she said, watching him join the other children running toward the schoolyard.
"Mi love yuh too, Mummy!" he shouted over his shoulder, waving.
As Nia walked toward the café, she braced herself for another long day of work and whispered prayers for a brighter future.
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