Borogie departed the Owens compound with an empty basket, her heart heavy after her visit. Indeed, Borogie stepped out of the Owens compound with an empty basket and a heart heavier than when she had arrived, a silent testament to the difficult decision she had made. The afternoon brought a profound sense of guilt to Matou, which she described as "sitting on her chest the entire afternoon." This overwhelming feeling of guilt consumed Matou, a heavy weight that settled upon her spirit and refused to lift throughout the day. Matou then inquired about the possibility of reconnecting with her relatives. "If… If it is possible… Can I visit my family during the summer holidays?" Matou asked, indicating a desire to see her family, a yearning that had grown steadily within her. This question, tentatively posed, represented a nascent hope for reconnection and a return to the familiar embrace of her own kin.
A Mother's Sacrifice
Borogie expressed a desire for a future for her daughter, Matou. This aspiration often meant making difficult decisions, decisions that weighed heavily on Borogie's heart but were driven by a profound love and hope for her child's well-being. Borogie wanted a future for her daughter, one she believed the Owens household could provide, even if it meant a painful separation. Margo, reflecting on Borogie's departure from the Owens compound, remarked softly one evening, "You should have at least walked with her to the gate." The observation noted the emotional distance that had developed between mother and daughter, or perhaps the perceived lack of a final, tender farewell, a moment of closure that was sorely missed. This comment from Margo showed the underlying tension and unspoken feelings surrounding Borogie's departure, suggesting a lingering sense of unease or regret about the manner in which the separation occurred.
Matou found herself grappling with complex emotions regarding her separation from Borogie. At times, she attributed her circumstances to Borogie’s actions. This sentiment of blame was a recurring internal conflict for Matou, reflecting the deep impact of being left with the Owens family. Her feelings were a tangled web of anger, grief, resentment, betrayal, loneliness, and love, each emotion vying for dominance within her young heart. It was a tumultuous period where the absence of her mother cast a long shadow over her days. However, Matou's understanding of her situation also extended beyond personal culpability. She sometimes attributed her family's difficult choices to the widespread issue of poverty. This recognition suggested an evolving perspective, acknowledging external pressures that shaped her mother's decisions, rather than solely focusing on individual blame. The struggle between blaming her mother and recognizing the broader socio-economic challenges showed the weight of Matou's experiences. Her internal discourse revealed a child attempting to comprehend the gravity of her circumstances and the complex motivations behind her mother's sacrifice for what Borogie hoped would be a better life for her daughter. This internal battle, oscillating between personal grievance and a broader understanding of systemic hardship, marked a significant phase in Matou's emotional development.
Loneliness and Blame
Matou immediately regretted her mother’s departure. The moment Borogie walked out, Matou was consumed by a profound sense of loss and an immediate, sharp regret that settled deep within her. Her emotions were a complex mixture of anger, grief, resentment, betrayal, loneliness, and love. This intricate tapestry of feelings made her days unpredictable, swinging between profound sadness and bursts of frustration. At times, she directed blame towards Yerro, a figure who, for reasons unclear, became an outlet for her surging emotions. Matou’s closest friend had also become hurt, further isolating her. This additional layer of interpersonal difficulty only deepened Matou's sense of solitude, leaving her feeling more adrift than ever.
Mrs. Owens sighed repeatedly whenever Matou entered a room, a reaction that Matou observed with a growing sense of unease. These sighs, though perhaps unintentional, conveyed a palpable weariness or disapproval that Matou keenly felt. Jane, another individual in the household, dramatically shook her head whenever the story of Matou’s arrival or situation was discussed. This exaggerated gesture, often accompanied by hushed tones, served to amplify Matou's feeling of being an outsider, a subject of pity or gossip rather than an integrated member of the household. Matou herself bore a physical reminder of past events; a wound on her cheek had healed into a thin line. This scar, a subtle but permanent mark, served as a constant, tangible link to the circumstances that brought her to the Owens compound. She often found herself alone behind the house, scrubbing dishes, a solitary chore that mirrored her emotional isolation. The rhythmic scrape of the sponge against plates became a backdrop to her private thoughts, a quiet, almost meditative act in her otherwise tumultuous existence.
Matou expressed a desire to reconnect with her relatives, asking, "If… If it is possible… Can I visit my family during the summer holidays?" This question indicated her yearning for a return to her family, despite the complex feelings surrounding her separation. The physical solitude, compounded by the emotional distance from those around her and the visible scar, showed Matou's difficult circumstances following her mother's departure. The repeated sighs from Mrs. Owens and Jane’s dramatic reactions contributed to an atmosphere where Matou felt scrutinized and alienated. Her internal conflict, oscillating between various intense emotions and the act of blaming Yerro, reflected the profound impact of her experience. This period was characterized by a deep sense of isolation and the heavy burden of her situation, a time when every interaction felt charged with unspoken meanings and every moment alone was filled with longing.
A Glimmer of Hope
Matou asked Mr. Owens, “If it is possible… Can I visit my family during the summer holidays?” She had spent nearly two weeks gathering courage before posing the question, eventually realizing the possibility of such a visit. This period of internal deliberation, marked by apprehension and a slow building of resolve, culminated in her brave inquiry. Sundays at the Owens household followed a ritual, typically involving church in the morning followed by the largest meal of the week. It was during one of these structured Sunday afternoons, a time of relative calm and familial gathering, that Matou chose to voice her deepest desire.
Mr. Owens appeared quietly, holding a cup of tea, when Matou finally spoke. He looked genuinely surprised by her inquiry, a flicker of unexpected emotion crossing his usually composed features. After a moment, Mr. Owens responded, “Of course.” This simple affirmation, delivered without hesitation, brought an immediate surge of relief to Matou. He further clarified his stance, stating, “Your family is still your family.” This powerful statement validated Matou's inherent connection to her origins, reassuring her that her identity was not erased by her current living situation. He emphasized Matou’s continued connection, adding, “You do not stop belonging to them because you stay here.” This provided a profound sense of reassurance, asserting that her bond with her family remained unbroken, regardless of the physical distance or the circumstances of her stay.
Matou received permission to go for all the holidays, a period spanning three months. This generous allowance, far exceeding her initial hopes, opened up the prospect of an extended period of reconnection. Mr. Owens provided clear instructions for her return. “Then return before reopening,” he told her, setting a definite boundary for her visit. He also conveyed a message for her parents, instructing Matou, “And greet your parents properly for us,” a gesture that suggested a degree of respect and acknowledgement for her family.
Belonging and Future
Hope quietly returned to Matou, following her inquiry to Mr. Owens, "If… If it is possible… Can I visit my family during the summer holidays?" The permission to visit ignited a spark of optimism within her, replacing the heavy burden of guilt and loneliness she had carried. She subsequently imagined several aspects of her family life, painting vivid mental pictures of what awaited her. Matou envisioned Farato, the new compound, a place she had heard about but not yet seen, and the hut constructed by her father, a symbol of his enduring presence and effort. She also recalled the smell of wood smoke, a comforting, earthy aroma that was synonymous with home, and Borogie’s cooking, the taste of her mother's familiar dishes. Her thoughts included Nata’s laughter, a joyous sound that promised warmth and companionship, Bubel’s mischief, which brought a smile to her face, long walks through familiar paths, the fields stretching out under the sun, and the sense of freedom associated with these memories, a freedom she deeply yearned for. Matou imagined being someone’s child again, not someone’s responsibility or charity, a profound shift in her self-perception. This vision was not merely about a physical return but a reclamation of her identity, a reaffirmation of her place within a loving family unit, where she was cherished for who she was, not for what she needed. This renewed sense of belonging offered a powerful antidote to the isolation she had felt, promising a future where she was once again an integral part of her family's narrative.
