By: davidgrace.near
David-Grace

MarmaJ drove past thirty-one street every weekday, a routine she enjoyed because of the African cultural troupe that gathered every morning on the west end of the street, putting up delightful performances and dancing to soul-stirring native songs. Though she didn’t understand the language, she’d hum along with a wide smile on her face. It was a most magnificent sight and experience.

The fairly bright clouds, ambient temperature at 24°C, the delightful cultural troupe, and the small, sweet shops scattered across the street painted a lovely picture. It was pretty much a regular day during spring. So, seeing a teenage girl crouched beside a paper box on the side of the street was a rather odd sight. The girl looked distressed and was clearly dishevelled.

MarmaJ wasn’t sure what to do as she drove past the girl. She wondered why the girl was there, she wondered if she was in trouble, and as the minutes passed, she wished she had stopped. As her car continued down thirty-one street, MarmaJ couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. By the end of the day, she decided to stop and speak to the girl on her way back if she was still there.

Driving back to the house was a quiet affair. MarmaJ was on the lookout, she imagined several possible scenarios of meeting the girl and thought up several ways to deal with each situation. MarmaJ was bothered about the girl; she thought of her colleague Janice and her story about surviving the harrowing experience that is living stranded.

Not that she thought the girl was entirely helpless, she was mostly bothered about the seething pain of loneliness and desertion she must have felt, and she wanted to know if she could offer any help. “This girl is a teenager!” she thought to herself.

MarmaJ slowed down as she drove her car onto thirty-one street. She looked out for the girl, she wasn’t sure if she’d see her again and was starting to beat herself up. So, she stopped her car instead and got down to search for the girl herself.

“Have you seen the girl that was here at that west end?” she asked people around and in shops while struggling to describe what the girl looked like. MarmaJ was getting discouraged, people were either uninterested in what she had to say because they were in a hurry to go on their way or they simply didn’t know who the girl was.

She’d decided to keep searching when she noticed a face that seemed familiar. MarmaJ moved quickly so she could reach the person, hoping that they’d offer some kind of help.

“Hello” MarmaJ said as she gently tapped the lady on her shoulder. The lady turned to see who had touched her and at that moment MarmaJ recognized her. She was a member of the cultural troupe that performed in the mornings on thirty-one street.

“I am so sorry for disturbing you” she started off with a quick smile. “I know your face, I drive past thirty-one street and I watch you perform every morning. You are such an amazing artist”.

The lady brimmed with a full smile from the hearty compliments.

“Yes, I am a part of the troupe. Thank you”.

“I’d really love to have conversations about your troupe and your art. I am such a huge fan.” MarmaJ politely veered the conversation towards the girl from the morning. “I am looking for a teenage girl; she was here this morning and she looked distressed.” She was pointing towards the West end of the street as she described the girl.

The dancer knew the girl, she’d seen her around a couple of times so she insisted on helping. They searched a few places and then there she was at a food store. She was standing outside alone and it wasn’t clear if she was trying to go in or if she was waiting to meet someone. MarmaJ waited to see what was going on and then she moved towards the girl when she noticed that the girl was not there to meet anyone.

“Hi. Can I talk to you?” MarmaJ waved gently at the girl, trying not to startle or scare her away. “I saw you at thirty-one street earlier today”.

The girl waited until she got close before nodding slowly. They got talking and MarmaJ introduced herself before asking for her name and if she was fine.

Dima was a 17-year-old teenage girl. She’d stayed in a town a few kilometres away before coming to Stratisburg, and she didn’t know anyone in the town. She was an immigrant. She had nowhere to go after getting kicked out by her host and she didn’t know how to get help.

MarmaJ requested that they talk over supper after Dima mentioned that she’d come to this food store hoping she’d get something to eat.

So, they walked to the closest restaurant and took a seat by the window side while MarmaJ asked her to order any food of her choice. Dima hungrily devoured her food immediately after she was served. After she finished her food, MarmaJ compassionately listened to her story while she figured out how to properly help the young girl.

Once Dima was done, MarmaJ promised Dima that she’d get her help and also reach out to her contacts but what was most important now was cleaning Dima up and getting her somewhere decent to pass the night.

The night was quite heavy with sadness, but MarmaJ was truly relieved that she’d found the girl before she hurt herself or was hurt by someone. She thought of the girl’s plight and considered deeply the possibility of starting a foundation to help young people in similar situations. This she’d talk about with her friends later.