Small beginnings that pave way for future successes : Dufie’s case.

Some few weeks ago, I visited a village close to Accra for some work. I saw a little girl, 12 or 15 years old holding an empty bucket and walking towards my direction. She was walking barefooted and on the sides of her foot and occasionally jumping to step on some of the patches of grasses nearby. The sun was hot and the ground was heated.

I was looking at her from afar. She was so caught up in trying to find patches of grass to step on than to recognize my presence. She was embarrassed when she saw me looking at her. When she got close, I watched her feet and then watched her face…

“Young girl what’s your name?”
“My name? My name is Dufie.”
“Dufie, where are your slippers?”
“It’s spoilt.”

She was shy. She was girlish. And she was graceful in her ways.

I squatted so I could be of the same height as her. I looked at her and then she smiled, girlishly.

“You see, this is your story and you can’t jump out of it. This is where life begins for you and no matter what you will complete this phase before another. But do this…

Try to be so successful that you wouldn’t be ashamed to talk about your today to the people in your tomorrow. I couldn’t speak English when I was in school. Today, I have a book and guess the language it’s written in?”

I was in secondary school with Fiifi. Fiifi was from Breman Asikuma and I was from Mankessim. When we were in school, they laughed at us. They called us names. They called us villagers. We didn’t attend the best of schools in Accra and our way of life wasn’t as polished as those from the cities so they called us villagers. They even laughed at the kind of shoes we wore to class. Today Fiifi drives through Accra and owns a beautiful house in Accra.

It’s not about your beginning. It’s not about where you are now. Don’t let the horizons that engulf you today define where you can go and who you can become.

Don’t be ashamed of your today. Live it. Enjoy…”

I couldn’t complete the last sentence when we heard a voice from behind calling out Dufie’s name; “Herrh Dufie, what are you doing there? Instead of you going to fetch the water, you are there chatting.”

We both stood still as the owner of the voice approached. “Is that your mom?” I asked. “No, she’s the wife of my father.” The look on her face while saying that was enough to tell me the kind of relationship that existed between them. The woman got to where we stood. She came with another child. A girl of say nine or ten years. They were both wearing slippers. Their feet were covered against the heated grounds they walked on.

I’m here today thinking of Dufie and wondering what she might be doing at the moment. Is she in school? Is she wearing slippers? Did she understand what I told her that day?

I hope she did and I wish every step she takes would fly her further away from the patches of grass she hops on. May the stars align in her favor one day.

(Source: Nesta Jojoe Erskine, Official Facebook Page)