EJIMA
She murmured and continued with the digging, hoping to bring out the rest of the yam that was still under the soil.
The sun was at its zenith, sending rivers of scorching rays, which came blaring the earth with their heat. It was direct and she could feel them on her nape. But what option does she have? The hot sun was tinging her physiology, but this was her life now. A life of rejection.
She stood again to ease the pain in her waist. This time, the sun left her neck and rested on the vertex of her braided hair. If only she had come early enough, at least she would have been done by now.
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