a 2008 short story by Liberian writer, Vamba Sherif: Her name was Bendu Sifeh. Most days of the week she went to the station and sat on one of the whitewashed benches facing boards that indicated the arrival and departure of buses. She always sat alone, her tense gaze dwelling upon the people who raced to and from the buses and trains. Sometimes, steeped deep in thought, she would panic but would pull her lips tight to control it. Or she would rush to a bus at the far end of the station to inquire from its driver. The information acquired would always vary, as would her reactions. Sometimes it would be about a change of bus route, or about the weather, and sometimes the driver would simply ignore her. When this happened, Bendu Sifeh would bite her finger nails with a cruelty that would frighten her afterward when she sat in the comfort of her home. There were moments when the drivers would be helpful, going out of their ways to answer all her questions, which pleased her tremendously. african-writing/hol/vambasherif.htm
Posted on: Wed, 04 Dec 2013 13:13:20 +0000
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