The Last Ghost: Son of Struggle

By Ray Ndebi

In a world of poverty and misery, where one needs the strong help of family to stand daily struggle, pain and sorrow, Sam seems to be the most unfortunate child on Earth. His entire life, from his childhood goes from tragedy to tragedy; and it is when the tunnel seems to have been crossed, that the hardest pains stand again. When love appears weaker than evil, only despair spreads its wide arms. But Sam, son of struggle, is determined to meet all his ghosts, for the sake of his peace and well-being.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Oct 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491875254

Ray Ndebi

I mostly help people write and get published i.e LE CREPUSCULE DES PLEURS, a collection of more than 100 poems by Olivier Mbih in 2008 published by L'Harmattan; or win songwriting contests i.e Liliane Konzong 2 times rewarded by Chansons Sans Frontières. I write everyday and I'm author of many other books still not published. I do it naturally, just the way I feel it; when it comes to writings, I don't think or elaborate or make up or set up, I just follow the stream. My senses are my qualifications. Writing is the best of all arts, and I always make it the "must be". I live in Cameroon, and I grew up going through pains day in day out. I have never lived my dreams, but I can feel them through each letter I put down. And when I come to thinking, I do for children; mine and all the others around the world, from all horizons, for without them, there is no future. I am acctive member of OneAfricanChild which is an initiative meant for poor children.

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Contents

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3

4

5

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7

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9

10

The roads are full of cars by this Saturday afternoon; there is a cold wind blowing, and a light rain falling from the dark clouds which have been shading the daylight for many weeks. In the centre town, someone has just parked his heavy 4WD car in an area behind a building. When he comes out, he realizes how it is seriously covered with mud. But he doesn’t care and follows the stairs up to the first floor. An old woman is watching television inside; she turns round and realizes in her turn, that the young adult’s shoes are very dirty.

-Sam! Where have you been?

She asks, wondering how come such a classy man could have his shoes so dirty.

-Oh! It’s not that important. Really. Don’t mind it, nanny. It’s just mud.

-You’ve been there. Haven’t you? The old woman shams anger.

-You’re right, as usual. I’ve been there, to check if…

-You weren’t healed at all, she ends his sentence. How was it then?

-Easier than I expected.

They are now both looking at each other. The long and painful way, through which they have definitely been, can be followed. It is something that the two distanced generations lived together, and can never take out of their minds.

1

Sam comes from a ghetto where each day is another battle for survival. The struggle left yesterday comes twice harder today. He was born there, among rats and cockroaches; he was born where the first tears of a baby are due to mosquitoes’ stings, he was born in an old house the neighbours ironically call the reed. That old wooden house owed odds the fact that it was still standing despite the strong wings. He was born in a hovel which was the poorer in the whole block, and that block being the lowest one of the town; he was then born in the poorest house of the town. In spite of the serious poverty, his mother gave birth to six children for six years running. Nevertheless his father always taught the young Sam how to be proud of his place. He never forgot the first words John his father told him on his very first school day. When he thought of that day, he always told himself: « I should’ve never gone there… »

-Son… Out there, lays all that can make you happy as well as all that can destroy your life forever. Don’t feel different from the others, just because you’re from a house like ours. Don’t mind the way others are dressed… Just do your job and come back happy and proud of yourself. The most wanted treasure of this world is found in your heart. We love you body and soul. Never forget it whatever happens. Right?

-Right dad.

-One last thing son. We’re too poor to afford the same class twice, so work hard and don’t let anybody distract you. You’ll enjoy life when you reach your target. Ok?

-Ok dad.

He was the best boy to his father; during his dad’s speech, Sam didn’t blink his eyes. He was staring at him as if John had been the target. Even the coldness of their first child scared them sometimes, John and Rosa would never show it. They were his parents and had to behave as such!

On that first school day, Rosa didn’t go with him, like most of mothers, on the way. It was his father, John himself, who walked with the five-year Sam. They were both in their Sunday best; it was obvious that they were not used to such neatness. Going to school was a big event. All the neighbours were at their door. Nobody wanted to miss the young Sam’s first steps to school. They would have bet the young one would never go to school, because of poverty; not that his parents were unable to complete the fees, but because they thought John and Rosa would be ashamed of sending Sam to school, owing to the lack of neat and nice clothes. They were used to seeing little Sam running almost naked in the neighbourhood, or simply wearing rags. Some of those clothes were too big for him, and the only reason was that they belonged to his father. Sam sometimes wore one of John’s t-shirt as the only clothe. Rosa was most of the time hurt, because of the way the others used to look at her son.

-John, why not letting Sam inside. They’re always mocking at him out there.

-Don’t mind it Rosa. If we hide him today, he’ll never learn to be strong. Let them call us names. Those are just words, nobody will dare beat him. If they try they’ll meet their match.

-No. He’s too young. Call him back.

-Will he ever go to school? Are you thinking about that? Next year, he’ll be where your eyes won’t find him. What will you do then? Don’t worry. Little Sam is growing stronger. Let him be the others’ fool today…

John and his wife never argued. Whenever there was a matter, they used to sit and talk it over quietly. Their children never heard them quarrelling. John didn’t mind Rosa’s weak heart. On the contrary, he liked her that way; for she was a woman who only wanted to protect her babies in her own way. That is why he easily understood she couldn’t take Sam to school for that first day.

Each one on his threshold felt surprised when Sam went on followed by his father, both dressed the way they were; it was another sun rising in the ghetto. Though Sam was happy to go to school, he didn’t show it; he kept on walking like a soldier. John was the one replying to the neighbours greeting them. On their way to the school which was only a hundred meters away, they met a slim old woman who used to see John at the mass.

-Hello John, good morning Sam!

The woman friendly greeted the fruits seller. She was one of the very few righteous persons living down there.

-Hello Mama Sweet, both John and Sam replied the same way. You look younger and younger, John added.

-Oh that’s my secret. But you… You look another one. I was coming to you. Here are some sweets for you, Little Sam.

-Thank you Mama Sweet, Sam said with that cold and big voice.

-Oh no! That’s not the right way to do it! If you really want to thank me, just go there and kick their butt. Ok?

-Ok, Mama Sweet.

-Good boy, she said before leaving.

She was given that name when John himself was still a teenager, and long before he came to that godforsaken place. As he heard, it was because she was always giving children sweets. She could be short of everything but sweets. One of the amazing stories about her, and definitely the most amazing one, was the day she went at the butcher’s and wanted to pay with sweets rather than with money. The butcher, whose daily unbearable bad mood was well known, surprisingly accepted, and she promised to pay properly later. « It’s alright, Mama Sweet! I know some kids who’re going to enjoy it! » From that day on, the man’s bad mood vanished. He became very nice and sympathetic.

-Look Sam, that’s your school, John told his son as they arrived.

The young man’s heart started pounding into his breast. Despite all that his father told him, he felt like an alien. Although he did his best to stay strong, John noticed a change in his attitude from his back. He saw Sam’s little hands squeeze his shoulder-straps.

-What’s going on?

He asked as Sam expected him to do.

To Sam, his father was a special man; someone like he was sure he could never find elsewhere. He always had answers, and always asked the right questions at the right time.

-I’ve never seen such a number of children in one same place.

-That’s your second step in the pathway to maturity. Don’t mind the number. They’re not your enemies. You’ll have more friends than anything else there.

-So… I’ll have enemies too.

-No. Just some butts to kick to defend your own. Alright. Let’s forget about it. Come on, let’s go and see the Headmistress. She will show us your classroom and your teacher. The rest, of the course, will depend on you.

That was how Sam started his school course.

2

During the first year, his father went with him and came to pick him at noon. His mother tried the best she could and succeeded keeping his uniform the neatest possible. Apart from that, both John and Rosa strove to have food for Sam every day. That was not a difficult period for Sam. He had many friends with whom to play, and no one tried to disturb him; he was so cold that most of the pupils preferred be his friend.

Nevertheless, there was one little girl named Cassie in Sam’s school, that the young boy protected for the whole year; because two boys older than them, were always annoying her. They became close friends, but that friendship only lasted that school year; Cassie’s parents moved with her to a bigger and safer area of the country when the mother secured a better job. Sam never saw her again. He didn’t even know she left. He could not,