‘Your skin is beautiful — that’s why they look at you. They admire it. They are just too afraid to say it’, Mama says with a smile.

From as far back as I can remember, I have known I was not like everyone else. The sun has never been my friend like it is to the other kids. Wide-brimmed hat and long sleeves: clothing that covers me from head to toe is my go-to. It feels limiting most of the time, but as Mama tells me, it is to protect my skin. Without all the protection, my skin would feel like it was burning. One time it turned red like the ripe plums we pick in summer, and it itched until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I stay in the shade most of the time while in school. During playtime, which occurs almost at noon, I have to sit inside watching everyone else play from behind the window. I play alone. The other kids love playing in the sun, and I cannot follow them there. It feels like the sun is a warm hug I can never have.

Mr. Ube, my teacher, tries to get the other kids to play with me in the classroom. And they do — for a little while. But when he is not around, they run back to the sunlit field, leaving me in the shade again. I try to sneak into the sunlight now and then, just to feel what it is like, but Mr. Ube always stops me.

‘Your skin is like a butterfly’s wings — del-i-kit— and wings like that need to be kept safe’, he says when I try to run into the sun. I know he means well, but sometimes it feels like I am trapped — by my own skin.

He says the word del-i-kit just right, like it is easy. I wish I could say big words like that too, the way he does. Despite my struggle with reading and speaking in English, he reassures me that one day I will be better at it. I hope he is right because I want to be a teacher like he is. So, when I cannot go out, Mr. Ube sits with me in class. He brings books and we read them together. When I stumble over the hard words, he helps me intone them, until I get them right. I like those moments, even though sometimes I look out at the other kids and wish I could be out there too, running free in the sun.

When it is time to go home, Mr. Ube stays with me until Mama comes to pick me up. I can never go home alone. Mama says there are people — she calls them demon people — who might try to take me. She does not know that I heard her and my aunt whisper about it late one night, when they thought I was asleep. They talked about a time, when I was little, that some people broke into our house and tried to take me. If it was not for Papa, they would have taken me to who knows where. Mama cried when she told that story. Because Papa left us that night, and that is why she is always so sad.

It is the weekend. I wake up to the sound of Mama moving things around. She is cleaning, sweeping every corner, rearranging everything in the living room. She usually cleans the house from top to bottom when guests come over, but we rarely get any of those.

‘Mama, are we having guests?’ I rub my eyes as I watch her dust the windowsill.

She stacks pairs of shoes in my hands. ‘Yes.’ Her voice is a blank page, lacking any emotion. ‘Take these and put them under the bed.’

I take the shoes, confused. ‘Who?’ I ask when I come back from the bedroom.

For a moment, she stops and stares at the floor as if she is looking for the answer there. ‘No one special.’ She goes back to wiping the same spot on the table she has already cleaned twice. I stand there, not satisfied with her reply.

‘It’s a friend of mine from my village’, she muffles as she bends to reach the nooks under the chair.

Realising that answer is the most I am going to get, I take my breakfast and move out of her way. It later occurs to me that I have never met relatives from Mama’s village. Come to think of it, no one from her village has ever visited us before. I cannot help but wonder why.

Outside, I am playing when an enormous car pulls up in front of the house. It is big, like the ones I see drawn in books, with shiny wheels and dark windows. A man steps out. He wears nice clothes, even better than Mr. Ube’s. His shirt is the brightest white I have ever seen, like clouds. His shoes gleam in the sunshine and reflect little sparks of light. I watch him as he walks toward me, a bag swinging in his hand.

‘Leo, long time!’ Mama shouts as she steps out the door, her voice suddenly full of energy. The man smiles when he sees her, and his eyes glance at me for a moment.

‘Hallo’, he greets, reaching down to take my hand. His voice is smooth, like the polished shoes he is wearing. I hide under my hat and stare at the ground.

‘It’s been a while! Ten years?’ he says as Mama leads him into the house. I follow close behind, my eyes glued to the large bag he carries.

Inside, they sit and start talking — about the old days, about people I have never heard of and a life that seems like a distant memory for Mama. There is a tinge of nostalgia in her voice, and it is lighter, like she is remembering something good.

Mama looks over at me, standing in the doorway, and hands me my lunch. ‘Here, eat, baby.’ She gently guides me out the door. ‘Sit in the shade outside.’ I guess they want to talk about grown-up things.

I walk to the shade and sit down with my plate. Mama has made meat and stew — my favourite. I savour each bite, but my mind keeps wandering back to the man inside. His voice is deep, and I can hear the soft murmur of their conversation through the walls.

By the time I finish eating, they have been talking for a while, but now there is laughter. Mama’s laugh is light and free, a sound I have never heard from her before. I quietly move closer, creeping toward the side of the house. I sit under the window, just out of sight, and listen. Their voices are low, but I can catch bits and pieces.

‘You’re very lucky to have gone to the city for studies. Look at you now!’ Mama exclaims. She sounds proud but wistful.

Leo chuckles. ‘It wasn’t easy at first. Someone like me, from the village. People looked at me and saw a naïve boy. I got made fun of for a while, but it turned out alright in the end.’

Mama’s tone changes. It gets serious. ‘And that’s what I want for her, for it to turn alright in the end.’ I know she is talking about me. ‘You know how people are here. Some view her skin as a warning of misfortune, and to some … it sparkles like gold.’ Her voice tightens. ‘I want her to have a good start, but here—’ she falters. ‘Here, she’ll never be safe. I don’t want to live in fear anymore.’

I hear her stand up, and I quickly scramble back to the shade. Peeking over my shoulder, I see Mama glance outside, checking if I am there, before she steps back inside.

I sit under the tree, trying to make sense of what I just heard. Was Mama talking about the demon people again? Do they want to hurt me because of my skin? I cannot understand why they would be jealous of it. My skin hurt in the sun, and wearing clothes on top of clothes was not fun at all. Why would anyone want that? The questions swirl in my head, one after another. Mama’s call pulls me out of my daze.

‘This is Leo, my friend from my home village’, Mama introduces him. Leo greets me again, his long fingers wrapping around mine. His handshake is gentle.

‘I got something for you.’ He rummages in his big bag. My eyes widen as he pulls out a large fluffy teddy bear. ‘Here’, he says, pushing it into my hands.

I can barely contain my excitement as I reach for it. The bear is so soft, and its new smell feels comforting. I look at Mama for approval, and she nods with a smile.

‘Thank you so much, Mr. Leo!’ I squeal, hugging the bear tightly. Mama and Leo laugh together.

‘What are you going to call it?’ Leo asks with a twinkle in his eyes.

‘I-I can give it a name?’ I stammer.

‘Of course’, he says. ‘Imagine if your friends didn’t have names? You should give it a special one.’

I think for a moment, then announce it. ‘Dida. That’s the name I want.’

‘Very nice.’ Leo nods. ‘Take good care of Dida.’

Mama pats my shoulder and tells me to go play with Dida in the bedroom. I am so happy and lost in my world there that I do not notice when Leo leaves.

‘I want to talk to you’, Mama says, standing by my bed. It is nighttime, and I am already under the covers, holding Dida close. I can hear the weight behind her words. She sits beside me and hands me a small book. The cover has smiling kids on it, and they look like me. They have skin like mine — pale and soft.

‘Kids like me?’ I stare at the picture. I have never seen kids who look like me before.

Mama nods, her eyes searching mine. ‘Yes, baby. Leo works with kids. Kids like you.’

I run my fingers over the pictures, trying to imagine what it would be like to meet them. ‘I didn’t know anyone else looked like me.’ The words barely escape my lips. Mama smiles, but it does not reach her eyes.

‘I’ve always told you — you’re special. Not everyone gets to have beautiful skin like yours.’ She pauses, her face tightening with that same worried look she gets when people stare at me in the streets. ‘That’s why I want you to go with him.’ I feel a lump in my throat, and I already know why. I remember the whispers about the demon people: the fear that is always around Mama.

‘Are you coming with me?’ I ask, even though I know the answer.

Mama sighs, her hands fiddling with the edge of the blanket. ‘It’s only for kids. Leo will make sure you’re taken care of. He’s good at what he does, and he’ll keep you safe.’

I can see the sadness in her eyes; the kind that she hides from me most of the time. ‘You don’t want me to go, do you?’ I ask, my voice small.

She hugs me tightly, and her tears brush my cheek. ‘I wish things were different’, she whispers. ‘But I want you to be safe more than anything.’

‘Mama?’

‘Yes, baby?’

‘When I go — will you return Mr. Ube’s books for me? And tell him thank you?’

She pulls back, looks at me and wipes her eyes. ‘Of course I will.’ She kisses my forehead. I can feel her trembling as she holds me.

That night, I toss and turn in bed. Mama is already asleep, but my mind keeps spinning. I think about the kids in the pictures, wondering what it will be like to meet them. But the thought of leaving Mama makes my heart ache. I am excited and scared all at once.

I squeeze Dida tight and close my eyes, trying to push away the confusion. Eventually, sleep takes over, but the weight of what is coming still lingers.

*

The green of the trees and farmlands fades into a blur of coloured buildings. The buildings start small, then rise higher and higher — taller than the tallest trees I have ever seen. We have been driving for a while now, and there are so many people in one place. It is like the world is awake in ways I never imagined. People rush by, their faces blending into the noise of the city: cars honk; carts clatter; voices echo. It is loud — so loud.

Leo swerves around people darting across the road. ‘Did your mother tell you what I do?’

I hold Dida tighter, her soft fur in my hands. ‘She said you help kids like me, but you’re against the government’, I answer without looking up.

‘Against the govern—Oh! non-governmental’, Leo chuckles. ‘Yeah, it’s like a group that works to help without being part of the government.’ He talks about how the government has not done enough and how groups like his form because someone has to step in.

We arrive at Leo’s house after a while. It is enormous, bigger than my church back in the village. I never knew houses could be this big.

‘Tomorrow, you’ll get to meet the people I work with’, Leo says as we step out of the car. At the door, a woman named Alice greets us. I learn later that she takes care of the house.

Upstairs, Leo shows me where I will sleep and tells me if I need anything, I can ask Alice. I step inside, and my heart races. The room is vast — bigger than our entire house back home. There is a bed in the middle. It is so big, I could get lost in it. Beside the bed is a desk, and on it there are more teddy bears: soft and colourful, just like Dida. Standing there surrounded by everything new and big, I feel so small. I squeeze Dida tight. I wish Mama was here.

‘Now Dida has friends to play with’, Leo says and points to the teddy bears lined up on the desk. ‘And after tomorrow, you’ll have friends to play with too.’ He smiles and heads out, leaving me with Alice. She shows me around the house, room by room. Everything is so big, it feels like I am walking through a place made for giants.

‘When dinner is ready, I’ll come get you.’ She offers a half-hearted smile, the corners of her mouth barely lifting. As she leaves, her eyes linger a little too long before she quickly disappears into the massive hallway. I wonder why that was.

The next morning, I wake up to a lot of noise outside. Peeking through the window, I see cars crowding the driveway. Moments later, Alice comes in, and she helps me get ready.

‘You need to look nice to meet Leo’s friends’, she says while washing me. She dresses me in a white dress with white shiny shoes.

Leo comes in just as I am ready. ‘You must be quiet downstairs.’ His voice is firm. ‘These people are here to help, so you need to be on your best behaviour.’ Before I can say anything, he snatches Dida from my hands and places her with the other teddies on the desk. ‘You’ll get it back later, okay?’

I nod.

Downstairs, we step into a room with people. They sit around a long table, and their conversations stop the moment I walk in. The room is dim, with heavy curtains drawn across the windows. I squint, trying to make out the faces around the table. My eyes have not adjusted to the dark, but I can feel their stares on me.

Leo leads me to a chair set apart from the others, raised slightly on a small podium. I sit down, aware of every eye watching me. There is a man standing at a pulpit behind the chair. Leo moves quietly to the back of the room and stands behind everyone.

The man says something, but his words slip by me. His words blur together, and I cannot keep up. Mr. Ube never talked this fast when he was teaching me English. I don’t understand what the man is saying, not all of it. A few words I can make out, like ‘feet’. I remember Mr. Ube reading a book that had animals in it. Why is he talking about body parts?

I glance around the room, confused, as people raise their hands. Has he asked them a question? His long arm, just above me, points to a person at the table. But they do not answer. Hands rise and fall until no hand goes up, and the man bangs on the pulpit. People around the table clap. I try not to fidget in my seat. What is happening?

This time, he calls out ‘legs’ and carries out the same routine. Whenever he calls out, a hand or two will shoot up, and when no hand goes up, the man slams his fist down on the pulpit and points at someone around the table. Everyone claps, and I still do not get it. More words spill out of him, even faster this time. My head spins, trying to understand what he says, but I can only remember a few words. Mr. Ube would be very disappointed.

While all this goes on, I notice a man in the far corner raising his hand. He looks familiar, so I squint hard to see him better through the dim light. Then I remember — he is the man in the newspaper that Mr. Ube reads. Mr. Ube said he is the one who might bring change to the country if he wins the election. I think of what Leo said about the government not helping enough, and seeing this man here makes it feel important, somehow.

The man at the front bangs his hand on the pulpit again, and the whole room claps. Suddenly, everything goes quiet, and I feel their eyes on me. Then Leo walks over with a big smile. ‘They really liked you — we collected a lot of money.’ Leo’s voice is cheerful as he guides me out of the room.

I smile while trying to understand it all. I wonder if this is what Mama meant when she said, ‘To some, her skin sparkles like gold.’

2025 Commonwealth Short Story Prize Shortlist