CHAPTER 3

The next morning, the cock had not even finished crowing when Goggo’s hand touched Mairo’s shoulder.

"Yuu bini. Get up, my child. It’s time for Subh."

Mairo groaned and rubbed her eyes. The mat beneath her was cool. The air in the hut smelled like dry firewood and old calabash.

For a second she thought she was back in Kulu’s house and her heart dropped. Then she heard Goggo humming a soft Jarawa song and she remembered. She was safe.

They prayed together. Mairo stood beside Goggo, copying her movements. When they said "Ameen", Goggo pulled Mairo into a hug.

"Allah ya ba ki lafiya, Goggo. May God give you health."

"Ameen, Mairo."

After prayers, Goggo spread another wrapper on the floor. "Let’s sleep a little more. The sun is not yet up and we have work."

Mairo curled into Goggo’s side. The old woman smelled like shea butter and smoke. It was the first time in a long time that Mairo slept without fear. She didn’t wake up to shouting or cold water.

When the sun came through the cracks of the hut, they woke up.

"Today we work," Goggo said, tying her wrapper. "A hardworking child is a blessed child."

Mairo nodded. She picked the small broom and started sweeping the compound. The sand was still damp from the night. Each sweep made a soft "shh shh" sound. She swept around the grinding stone, around the three stones used for cooking, and under the neem tree.

Inside the kitchen, Goggo was already cooking. Smoke filled the small room and made Mairo’s eyes water. The pot on the fire was boiling. The smell hit Mairo first.

"I’m cooking 'Dan wake,'" Goggo said without looking up. "Your favorite."

Mairo dropped the broom and ran to wash the plates from last night. The water in the bucket was cold and made her hands ache, but she didn’t complain. She remembered Kulu saying "You’re lazy" when she washed slow. Here, Goggo didn’t shout. She just sang.

Goggo looked outside through the doorway. She saw the 7-year-old girl scrubbing with all her strength and her chest felt full.

"This child," she whispered to herself. "She will not be wasted."

"Mairo!" she called. "Yuu bini. Come here."

Mairo washed her hands quickly and went inside. The kitchen was smoky and hot. Soot was on the walls.

"I’m here, Goggo," she said, coughing a little.

"Sit down. Your food is there." Goggo pointed to a plate on the low table. A cup of water sat beside it.

Mairo sat on the mat. The "dan wake" was soft and warm. She took a small ball, dipped it in the pepper sauce, and ate. It tasted like heaven. Like love. She hadn’t eaten like this in months. No rushing. No one snatching the plate from her.

Goggo sat beside her and watched. "Eat slowly. There’s more."

They ate in silence for a while. Then Goggo spoke.

"Get ready, Mairo. After you finish, we’re going somewhere."

Mairo looked up, mouth full. "Where, Goggo?"

"To see someone. A woman who can help you."

Mairo’s heart beat fast. "Help me how?"

"You’ll see. Finish your food."

Twenty minutes later, they were on the path. Goggo held Mairo’s hand tightly. The sun was climbing now and the compound paths were full of women carrying firewood and children going to the stream.

Mairo kept looking at Goggo. "Are we going far?"

"Not far. Just to the other side of the village."

As they walked, Mairo noticed things she never noticed before. The way the goats bleated. The way the women greeted Goggo: "La’am Sarai, Mama." The way children played with bottle tops in the sand.

After about 10 minutes, they stopped in front of a house. It was different from the other huts. It had a zinc roof and painted walls. There was even a small window with curtains.

Goggo knocked gently and said her salaam.

"Wa alaikumus salaam," a voice answered from inside.

The door opened and a woman stepped out. She was not like the other women in the village. Her gown was neat, her hair was covered with a clean scarf, and she wore glasses. She looked educated.

"Mairo," Goggo said, "this is Madam Aisha."

Madam Aisha smiled. Her teeth were white. "So this is you. Goggo has told me about you."

Mairo curtsied shyly. "Ina kwana."

"Come inside," Madam Aisha said.

The inside of the house was cool. There was a table, chairs, and books on a shelf. Mairo had never seen so many books. Her eyes went wide.

"Sit down," Madam Aisha said, pointing to a chair.

Goggo sat too, but on the edge like she was ready to stand.

"Aisha, this is my granddaughter," Goggo started. Her voice was proud but also tired. "The one I told you about. The one her mother stopped from school."

Madam Aisha nodded. She looked at Mairo carefully. "I can see the resemblance. She has Goggo’s eyes."

Mairo looked down at her feet. She didn’t know what to say.

Madam Aisha leaned forward. "Mairo, 'kina son ki fara makarant'? Do you want to start going to school?"

The question hit Mairo like water. School. She remembered her old school. The chalkboard. Hadi. The way the teacher would call her name.

"Yes," she said quickly. Too quickly. Then softer, "Yes, ma. I want to go to school. I was going back in my village... but my mom said I should hawk instead. She said school was waste of time."

Goggo’s face hardened. She looked away, jaw tight.

Madam Aisha reached out and touched Mairo’s hand. "Don’t worry. You will continue here. No one will take you away from school again. Not while I’m here."

Mairo felt tears sting her eyes. She blinked them away.

"Can she start tomorrow?" Goggo asked.

"Yes," Madam Aisha said, smiling. "Let her come by 7am. With a notebook and a pen. I’ll put her in Class 2."

Goggo exhaled. For the first time in a long time, she smiled with her whole face.

"Thank you, Aisha. Allah ya saka."

On the way home, Mairo couldn’t stop talking.

"Goggo, there were books. So many books. And the chair. And the teacher asked me in Hausa."

Goggo just squeezed her hand.

"My Mairo is going to school," she said quietly. "This is how we start to bloom."

That night, Mairo couldn’t sleep. Not from fear. From excitement. She kept thinking about the blue uniform, the books, and Madam Aisha’s glasses.

Beside her, Goggo was also awake, listening to her granddaughter’s breathing.

"Never again," Goggo whispered into the dark. "Never again will they touch her."