“What did I tell you?”

Lara jumped in fear.

A tall woman had appeared behind her. The woman was holding a long cane in her hand. Her face was hard and full of anger. It was Mama Tade, Lara’s mother-in-law.

She walked closer, her cane raised high in the air.

“I asked you to pack those clothes quickly and go to the farm to fetch firewood. What are you doing here? Crying like a lazy goat?”

Her voice was loud like thunder.

Lara quickly dropped the cloth she was holding on the mat and fell to her knees.

“Mama, please, please forgive me,” she begged weakly. Her voice was shaking. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday. Please give me a little food to eat. I promise I will go to the farm immediately after eating.”

But those words only made Mama Tade angrier.

Her face twisted with rage.

“Food?” She hit the ground with the cane. “Which food are you talking about? When was the last time you or your useless dead husband brought anything into this house?”

Her voice echoed through the compound.

Lara lowered her head and cried quietly. She said nothing again.

Her husband had died only four months earlier after a strange sickness. Since that day, her life had become pure suffering, and since then, Mama Tade had treated Lara like a slave.

Lara’s husband had been working in the city where they met. They got married in church, and she became pregnant two months later.

Her husband had told her that every first child in their family had to be born in the village, in their family house. When it was time for her husband to take her to his mother in the village, before traveling that morning, Lara told him she was not comfortable with the journey. She asked if she could give birth in the city instead and bring the baby to the village after delivery, but her husband said no, that it was their tradition and something that had to be done.

The young man drove down to the village with Lara and left her there.

Lara was not comfortable, but he told her he would come back to pick her up as soon as she gave birth. He left the following day for the city. A few days later, the news they heard was that he had died after a brief illness. His corpse was brought home by his friends.

Lara was deeply hurt. She cried.

After the burial, her phone went missing, and that almost made everything worse for her. She had been in the village, enduring the suffering, until the day of her delivery.

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“Stand up!” the woman shouted.

Lara slowly stood up, holding her heavy stomach. She quickly carried the clothes and rushed into the small house to drop them.

Neither Lara nor Mama Tade noticed something strange.

Not far from them, standing near the mango tree in the compound, was the ghost of Lara’s late husband. He stood there quietly, watching everything. His eyes were filled with deep sorrow.

Tears rolled down his face as he looked at his weak, pregnant wife.

But nobody could see him.

Nobody could hear him.

He stretched out his hand toward Lara as she hurried inside the house, but his hand passed through the air like smoke.

He could only watch and cry.

A few minutes later, Lara came out again. Her eyes were still wet. She walked into the kitchen and picked up an empty plastic basin.

Then she slowly started walking toward the road that led to the farm. Her steps were slow and weak.

“Listen to me,” Mama Tade shouted behind her.

Lara stopped and turned.

“If you like, don’t come back early today. I will deal with you when you return.”

Lara nodded quietly. She said nothing. Then she continued walking down the dusty road.

The ghost followed her silently.

The road to the farm was long and lonely. Lara walked slowly. Her body was trembling. Her legs were shaking badly. Every few steps, she would hold her stomach and pause to breathe.

Her baby moved inside her belly, but there was no strength in her body. She was too hungry, too weak.

The ghost followed closely behind her. His face was full of pain.

If only he could help her.

If only he could speak to her.

But he could do nothing.

Lara soon reached the first hut beside the road. A woman was sitting outside peeling cassava. Lara gathered the little strength she had and greeted her politely.

“Good morning, ma.”

The woman looked up.

“Oh, Lara. Good morning.”

Lara swallowed slowly.

“Please, ma. Do you have a little food you can give me? I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

Her voice was almost breaking.

The woman’s face changed. She looked uncomfortable.

“Ah, my daughter.” She shook her head slowly. “There is no food in the house right now.”

Lara nodded slowly.

“I understand.”

Her eyes filled with tears again. She turned and continued walking.

The ghost looked sadly at the woman, then followed Lara again.

Not far ahead was another small hut. Lara dragged her tired legs there. A second woman was outside sweeping.

“Good morning, ma,” Lara greeted weakly.