The Burden

By k. Faix

Wanda and Faiza, two friends who seem to be opposites. And yet! Abandoned at an early age by her mother, Wanda is raised by her grandmother, her uncles and aunts. But her childhood is marked by violence and abuse, sowing terror, doubt, and fear in little Wanda's heart. Faïza found herself pregnant at the age of 12. She practically rejected Ndang, the boy she ended up giving birth to and towards whom she has an unexplained visceral hatred, until one day the truth finally comes to light. Wanda and Faiza are both victims of a stolen childhood and shattered by a terrible secret.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664182042

k. Faix

Jeune adulte passionnée d'écriture, K. Faix utilise cet art pour aider les enfants de tous âges à prendre confiance en eux en favorisant leur reconnaissance dans la société. De sa plume, elle décrit avec verve les ravages causés par l'abandon, le rejet et les abus de tous genres. Ravages criards dans une société où l'enfant est très souvent une victime muette, avec des devoirs mais dont les droits sont bafoués.

Book preview

Prologue

You would think that I am constantly plagued by some unusual evil. Sitting in the taxi, I frown; I am in a hurry to arrive safely. It is 6:30 pm when I get off at Camair; I rush to the other side of the road to take one of the buses bound for Soa.

My name is Wanda Lobè and I am enrolled in the 1st year at the University of Yaoundé II located precisely in the Soa district, one of the suburbs of the city of Yaoundé in Cameroon. I usually take the same trip, between home and university, especially on weekends. I have to spend every weekend with my family. Torn between the desire to fight back and abdicate, I find myself stuck between two crossroads and I don’t know which direction to go.

It has been about ten minutes since I boarded this fast-moving bus; I still remember the time when this section linking the Eleveur district to Soa claimed victims. There were constant traffic accidents, killing tens or dozens; but luckily the time and things have improved over the past few years.

But… how I would have loved to be brutally gripped by death and leave forever! It often torments my mind, so much so that my friends, my entourage sometimes tend to call me suicidal…

I feel so misunderstood and clumsy. Even my roommate Lucie, who I moved in with over a month ago, says the same thing. As soon as I arrived, she made the comment…

- How are you guys? Looks like the weekend wasn’t great. You seem a bit out of it.

- Please don’t bring it up! I’m ready to fall asleep right here, right now.

.-Yay! Please tell me.

- I’m tired. I left on Friday as planned, and found that there was one of those bloody meetings. I had to be there to help them. Can you imagine? I’m exhausted! Really! I have to sleep early.

- Mama!!! I don’t envy you my dear! At least I hope you were able to study. We have continuous assessments tomorrow, right?

- Oof! Did I have time? I spent the whole weekend working there like crazy! I’m so sore. I was even cleaning this morning. What do we have tomorrow?

- Constitutional law. You know the teacher doesn’t joke around.

- I know. I’ll study hard. For now, I’m going to shower and go to bed. I don’t want to do anything else.

- Ok! Sleep well.

Lucie looks at me with pity. I didn’t want this. I never wanted to live like this. But of course you don’t choose your family, and so I have to. Lucie knows only a tiny part of my life, so almost nothing of my family. I haven’t told her everything. I prefer hiding most of it from her, the part that I consider dirty and so shameful to everyone else. Lucie wouldn’t understand me; she would judge me. She would no longer see me as a person, so I prefer it to keep things the way they are. I let her think I’m another person and I like it that way.

But I couldn’t rest. My heart is so heavy.

- Lucie, I’m going out for a walk.

- Aren’t you tired?

- No, I’m fine. I just need to clear my head.

Our apartment is on the campus of "Les Cocotiers. To get there more easily, you have to walk along the more upscale campus of La Roseraie, also known as the bobo" (rich) campus. As I walk through, I’m so focused on my current problems that I don’t notice the girl walking backwards and yelling on the phone; she speaks so loud; she almost growls, to the point of not realizing that she risks hitting me; I do everything to avoid it…

- I told you to leave me alone about that! I don’t want to hear it! She said, and I especially do not want to talk about it!

Too late… The girl in question pushes me aside and ends up apologizing…

- Ooooh! I’m sorry! Forgive me! Really sorry! I… I… is everything okay? She said, stammering.

- I’m okay. No worries. I am a little embarrassed.

Hearing her speak, I notice that she has a particular accent…

- Ok! I was speaking with my family and…

- I understand. You are not Cameroonian.

- No. I come from Gabon. And I… My name is Faïza.

- My name is Wanda.

We both look at each other and we each sketch a shy smile, while seeming to understand each other.

Chapter 1

**Wanda**

It’s been many months since I left the family home to continue my higher studies at the University of Yaoundé II in Soa. I just turned 18; I was born and grew up here in Yaoundé, the political capital of Cameroon. Although I come from the coastal region, my family has been living here in Yaoundé for more than thirty years.

My maternal grandfather, having worked for a long time in the city, had a large villa built in the Etoudi district; he remained there until his death in the 1980s. I didn’t know him, but just through the anecdotes my grandmother often told me I was able to get an idea of him…

- He had occupied a very large post in the public service. My grandmother told me. When he was posted here in Yaoundé,