So you want to know what it's like to be poor? Hello. My name is Grace and this is my story..... I live in Africa, somewhere in the north of Ghana, with my sad, unwell and starving family. Right here inside our old, little hut.
I lie here on my straw mat, staring into the darkness. My little baby lies beside me, snuffling in her sleep. My four other living children lie curled up together in the mud floor. Out in the yard, in their grave, the two dead ones. How I cried when I buried them!
This is my husband. Two months ago he left the village to find work in the town of Kumasi, over 400km away, He said we will buy a goat and send our eldest son to primary with the money. But I have heard nothing from him since then. He could be ill or in trouble!
And the farm...It rained poor last season and the millet in our tiny field is dry. Enough to feed us for two months, but what can I do? All I have are my savings - nineteen thousand cedis. If one of the children gets ill, that won’t even be enough for the medicine.
I could sell something but what? You could count our possessions in seconds. 3 Bowls, 2 plates, the cooking pot, a water bucket, a hoe, a fork, 2 metal plates, 1 machete, 2 small knives, 2 mats, a wooden pestle, the kerosene lamp and a few bundle of worn clothing.
At daybreak, I will set off to get water. The river is nearly dry, and the water is muddy and dangerous. It killed my children, but what can I do? It takes me over an hour to get to the river, but longer to get back with my heavy bucket.
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