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A Journey

By Sonia Published 3 months ago 3 min read

Months before mother, Sisi, Luna and I had begun a journey. We had narrowly escaped fathers rath back in Agaro. Fatigue had begun to creep in, but I would argue it had always been present. The life we had left behind could scarcely be called a life. It was survival. It would take us all a while to recover good thing Addis Ababa seemed to be the same distance as the heavens. Time, time is all we had as we squeezed in mother's 1970 navy-blue Volkswagen bus. We hoped this new life in Addis Ababa would be kinder.

The night took over the day, we came to a halt on Gojam street. We were yet to see Addis Ababa, but we were too tired to keep going. The street was dimly lit by the blue lights from the Olibia petrol station but not much else. With nowhere to go we decided to spend the night on the bus and continue our journey in the morning. Before we could decide anything, else there was a knock on the window. A woman dressed in all white. She signaled to lower the window and I was too scared not to ‘are you looking for a place to sleep I am the mistress of a house not too far from here your welcome to stay’ she said, ‘I almost forgot my name is Zar’. Mother went out to converse with her and soon after came running back.

Without saying a word, she started the car and followed behind Zar. We came to a stop at an old colonial style flat painted white with large windows. The house appeared to glow against the darkness, it was the most beautiful home I had ever seen. The doors sprang open and out came an old man with a lamp. ‘Show them their rooms’ Zar instructed. She beckoned my mother and luna to follow him while we went with her. I was hesitant but knew mother was not in the mood for questions I chose not to rebel and followed Zar to mine and Sisi's room.

Daylight had transformed the building into something I could only describe as magical. From the inside it appeared much bigger with vines and plants hanging from the balconies of the rooms. The inside was yellow and red with exposed stone walls and painted ceiling, it appeared to be ancient, like something that had existed for centuries.

We gathered for breakfast, and I got a better view of Zar. In the light she looked like an angel I had always thought my mother to be the most beautiful woman I had ever met but here she was the most Execusite woman I had ever laid my eyes on. We spent the day exploring the grounds of the inn Lalibela and talking to guests. Feeling exhausted at the thought of getting back on the road we decided to stay a few more nights and help where we could in the inn.

I oversaw mailing of letters while mother and luna worked in the kitchen with Sisi.

A storm was coming in and I hurried to the post office hoping to collect the mail before it began. The tv in the background gave updates every hour ‘it's been 4 years since we have seen a storm this big the last one occurred in 2016’. I froze, unable to move my hands, I let go of the letters. They fell to the ground and gathered at my feet. Shocked and horrified. I turned towards the television, I looked at the corner of the screen and right there I saw it the year June 5th, 2020.

We were in the year 2020 this would have been fine however two weeks ago when we arrived at Lalibela it was January 6th, 2016. I slowly came to an understanding as the past few months played in my head. Everything was a blur; we should never have left Agaro. The stories I had heard growing up were true........

The doors of the post office slowly opened, letting the cold air in. Zar appeared in front of me. She stretched out her hand without resisting, I placed my hand in hers and we walked out together back to Lalibela. This was our home now, she was our home, and we were never leaving.


About the Creator


I write stories inspired by my experiences and fiction.

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