She was the first daughter in the house. A princess in the making, nothing less. Papa had promised it. He worked with the Red Cross. Ma told me one day, rather proudly, “Your pa had been in the Second World War, you know!”. But then tragedy struck hard. Pa passed away and left Ma to feed a family of ten with just her small betel nut business. Being one of the “Big Three kids in the family” I couldn’t let my ma go the extra mile alone.

It came to my adolescence along with the heavy burden of having to fend for my family. I had somehow got hold of a shack near the government offices to run a tea shop. Rolling up my tattered torn-up sleeves, I began my journey. The mornings are the most hectic time of the day. My six younger brothers would cause such a raucous before leaving for school that woke up everybody in the small one-room hut we called home.

“You all have to go to school! It is the only way to escape this sordid life. You hear me, all of you!” said ma. Almost every morning as my siblings got up from bed bemoaning their having to go to school. Sadly I wasn’t able to do much about this. I had to drop off from the local school as soon as I sailed through third grade. Oh well, life happened.

The shuffling of feet woke me up. My brothers had already been dressed up in the best sewed-up uniform ma could muster with the limited resources she had. They were waiting for me and ma to wake up so they could have breakfast before beginning their long trek to school.

This continued for a couple of decades. And in that span of time, my own kids were born, all seven of them. I have now become the only bread earner in the family. My ma has become too ill and advanced in years to step out of the home. But she is still strong enough to help me with my youngest girls. I’ve heard people say only a man can be the head of a house. Well, they haven’t met me or my ma. There is no man who can hold a candle to either of us.

There were days when I’d be carrying four school bags while my two eldest sons shared the remaining three. Dropping them at school was way easier than picking them up later in the day, what with the different timings.

I would get the supplies for my shop on the way back and then make a mad dash to get the shop ready. By then, I’d already lost half of the day.

My partner passed away soon after our seventh child was born. His family had not accepted a poor girl like me and had married him off to another wealthy “lady” while he was still married to me. I must give him some credit. He had to struggle hard to hang on to me his true love and did his best to be “the good son of the family”. In the end, his family won. It all became too much for him to have to juggle between two women, I guess. Well, anyway, he died later on while he was on business in the state nearby. Distraught as I was, I couldn’t show weakness. I had to stay strong for my babies. Gritting my teeth and shoveling all emotions away, I threw myself into making my shop work so that I could give my children a semblance of hope for a better future.

Seeing that ma’s theory of education had proven to be right, I too invested in it, making sure each and every one of my kids went to school and studied hard.

My kids are now living decently with their own families and businesses. When they all ganged up to force me to quit my shop and stay at home, I did it rather gladly. Forty years is a long time to be sitting behind a counter.

The light at the end of the tunnel kept me going, even though I had come close to drowning many times in my despair and debts. My faith and hope kept me alive. Believing had finally paid off.

Anyway, the flowers need watering and tending to. And my youngest daughter’s kids are coming to spend the day with their granny. Reminiscing time has now been taken over by relishing the taste of sweet success.

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