I wasnt as happy with this as I was with the descriptive writing, what can I do to make it better?
Ebere Nia
Nia, stop daydreaming! I need water. Nia scowled, but she started the 30-minute journey. She knew her sister needed the water to wash her baby cousin Dakari, but Nia felt Fola should have gone to get it herself. She was probably just being lazy.
Nia was very rarely happy these days. She was only eight, but felt much older. She was one of the millions of aids orphans throughout Africa. There were 28 people infected in just her village.
***
She didnt want to, but she started to think about her father. She remembered him, as he got sicker and sicker, his body fighting itself. He had tried to do the right thing by giving blood to the mission hospital, but he had got aids. His last words to her that night in the hut were remember God, and remember your name child.
***
Nia glanced up and saw Safari sitting in the dust begging. She joined the others in taunting the crippled child. Your name is Safari, but youre not going anywhere! Teasing the little boy made her feel a little bit less angry, but she had to keep moving.
***
Her Name. Her stupid name. Her sisters name Fola meant Honour. Her brother Simbas meant Lion. Hers, Ebere-Nia meant, mercy-purpose
Mercy. Had the disease had mercy when it took her parents? What purpose had her becoming an orphan done? Other than ensuring she stayed trapped in poverty, nothing!
***
Nia arrived home with the water. Fola seemed anxious when Nia saw her. You were too late. Hurry up. Keon is sick Nia shoved the water into Folas hand angrily, spilling some of it in the process. She turned and stomped out of the room.
It had been three weeks now and Keon wasnt getting better. His little forehead was burning and he refused to eat even the maize porridge Fola had made. Nia began to worry about him a little bit. She knew that if he did not get better he could die.
Fola tied the baby to Nias back with the Kanga that all Kenyan women carried their babies with. The hospital is only two days walk. Nia set off across the African plain.
***
Low on the horizon the African hospital stood against the backdrop of the sunset she had come to love. Todays was painted with hues of red and brilliant orange, a stark contrast to the dull brick building of the hospital.
Nia hated hospitals because they reminded her of her parents. She took a deep breath and marched in, scowling.
The nurses at the desk raised their eyebrows. Four of the nurses werent compassionate. They saw pain and hunger and death every single day and their eyes had the same look as Nias. She reached in her kanga for the 20-cent admission. Panic slowly started to set in- it was not there.
You dont pay the fee, you dont get in said one of the receptionists. Nia looked around desperately. All of the women at the desk agreed. Nia turned around, despondent. Have you no heart? The child is exhausted and the boy is almost dead. I will pay the fee Nia turned toward the voice. It was a woman with beautiful long blonde hair and deep blue eyes.
***
Nia helped the woman feed Keon. She had been there a week, and discovered that the ladys name was Esther. Esther was a missionary from Canada, come to help people and tell them about God.
I dont want you to help me anymore Nia said to the Esther the next day. She looked surprised why not? Because I cant pay you back. We are poor. We cant even give you a chicken
Esther laughed, but it was a warm happy laugh, not the cruel laugh that Nia used to taunt the beggars along the roads. I dont help people for chickens Nia. I help people because I love people. I love people because God loved me.
The words drove into Nias heart like a knife. She had ignored everything her father had taught her about God when she was very young. She looked at Esther whos face was full of love and understanding. Nobody anywhere else had ever been as nice to her as Esther had. Tell me about this, this God Nia said, her voice quivering. Esther hugged Nia and drew her into her office.
***
Nia grasped the end of the kanga and fastened it around her shoulder. Keon was much better and since they had arrived home last week he had seemed more cheerful.
She set off in the sunshine to get water. Along the road she saw a pack of children gathering around a child. What is your name? she asked the child. He was horribly deformed and crippled. Kapera he whispered. Nia shuddered. Kapera. What a horrible name to have. It meant this child too, will die. The child looked thirsty and sick, but certainly not dying.
The children looked at Nia expecting her to make them laugh by teasing the child. Instead she bent over to the well and drew some extra water. As she did, she through, maybe my name does fit me Ebere Nia, .
Ebere Nia
Nia, stop daydreaming! I need water. Nia scowled, but she started the 30-minute journey. She knew her sister needed the water to wash her baby cousin Dakari, but Nia felt Fola should have gone to get it herself. She was probably just being lazy.
Nia was very rarely happy these days. She was only eight, but felt much older. She was one of the millions of aids orphans throughout Africa. There were 28 people infected in just her village.
***
She didnt want to, but she started to think about her father. She remembered him, as he got sicker and sicker, his body fighting itself. He had tried to do the right thing by giving blood to the mission hospital, but he had got aids. His last words to her that night in the hut were remember God, and remember your name child.
***
Nia glanced up and saw Safari sitting in the dust begging. She joined the others in taunting the crippled child. Your name is Safari, but youre not going anywhere! Teasing the little boy made her feel a little bit less angry, but she had to keep moving.
***
Her Name. Her stupid name. Her sisters name Fola meant Honour. Her brother Simbas meant Lion. Hers, Ebere-Nia meant, mercy-purpose
Mercy. Had the disease had mercy when it took her parents? What purpose had her becoming an orphan done? Other than ensuring she stayed trapped in poverty, nothing!
***
Nia arrived home with the water. Fola seemed anxious when Nia saw her. You were too late. Hurry up. Keon is sick Nia shoved the water into Folas hand angrily, spilling some of it in the process. She turned and stomped out of the room.
It had been three weeks now and Keon wasnt getting better. His little forehead was burning and he refused to eat even the maize porridge Fola had made. Nia began to worry about him a little bit. She knew that if he did not get better he could die.
Fola tied the baby to Nias back with the Kanga that all Kenyan women carried their babies with. The hospital is only two days walk. Nia set off across the African plain.
***
Low on the horizon the African hospital stood against the backdrop of the sunset she had come to love. Todays was painted with hues of red and brilliant orange, a stark contrast to the dull brick building of the hospital.
Nia hated hospitals because they reminded her of her parents. She took a deep breath and marched in, scowling.
The nurses at the desk raised their eyebrows. Four of the nurses werent compassionate. They saw pain and hunger and death every single day and their eyes had the same look as Nias. She reached in her kanga for the 20-cent admission. Panic slowly started to set in- it was not there.
You dont pay the fee, you dont get in said one of the receptionists. Nia looked around desperately. All of the women at the desk agreed. Nia turned around, despondent. Have you no heart? The child is exhausted and the boy is almost dead. I will pay the fee Nia turned toward the voice. It was a woman with beautiful long blonde hair and deep blue eyes.
***
Nia helped the woman feed Keon. She had been there a week, and discovered that the ladys name was Esther. Esther was a missionary from Canada, come to help people and tell them about God.
I dont want you to help me anymore Nia said to the Esther the next day. She looked surprised why not? Because I cant pay you back. We are poor. We cant even give you a chicken
Esther laughed, but it was a warm happy laugh, not the cruel laugh that Nia used to taunt the beggars along the roads. I dont help people for chickens Nia. I help people because I love people. I love people because God loved me.
The words drove into Nias heart like a knife. She had ignored everything her father had taught her about God when she was very young. She looked at Esther whos face was full of love and understanding. Nobody anywhere else had ever been as nice to her as Esther had. Tell me about this, this God Nia said, her voice quivering. Esther hugged Nia and drew her into her office.
***
Nia grasped the end of the kanga and fastened it around her shoulder. Keon was much better and since they had arrived home last week he had seemed more cheerful.
She set off in the sunshine to get water. Along the road she saw a pack of children gathering around a child. What is your name? she asked the child. He was horribly deformed and crippled. Kapera he whispered. Nia shuddered. Kapera. What a horrible name to have. It meant this child too, will die. The child looked thirsty and sick, but certainly not dying.
The children looked at Nia expecting her to make them laugh by teasing the child. Instead she bent over to the well and drew some extra water. As she did, she through, maybe my name does fit me Ebere Nia, .
