Chapter 9: When Everything Changed

Mercy sat on the bare floor of the small living room, tears streaming down her bruised cheeks. Her arms clutched Daniel, who had begun to cry simply because his mother was. The other children—Faith and Anita—stood by the door, confused, frightened, and silent. The words of the landlord echoed in their minds like thunder.

"Seven months overdue! I want you and your children out by tomorrow morning!" he had shouted before slamming the gate behind him.

Mercy's chest rose and fell rapidly as panic and pain tightened their grip around her. There was no one to call. No family member willing to help. Her own parents had disowned her after she insisted on marrying David. Now she was stuck—beaten, abandoned emotionally, and facing eviction.

Faith, the eldest, slowly walked up to her mother and knelt beside her.

"Mummy," she whispered, voice trembling, "where will we go?"

That question shattered Mercy. She looked into Faith's eyes and saw something no child should ever carry: fear and hopelessness. She pulled her daughter into the embrace and cried harder.

"I don't know, my child... I don't know."

Night fell like a blanket of sorrow. There was no food for dinner. The children lay on the mats, stomachs rumbling, too afraid to sleep. Daniel coughed through the night, his fragile body struggling to rest amid the cold and hunger. Mercy stayed awake, watching them all. Her mind raced with thoughts—what had she done wrong? How did love lead her to this kind of suffering?

By morning, the family began packing the little they owned. Old clothes, a few kitchen utensils, Daniel's medicine—all shoved into worn-out bags. There was no transportation. Mercy tied Daniel to her back with a scarf. Faith and Anita carried the bags, tears in their eyes.

They had nowhere to go.

They walked for hours under the scorching sun, searching for anyone who could help them. Church members, neighbors—everyone either turned a blind eye or gave half-hearted promises. Mercy tried to hide her bruises, but the pain showed on her face and in her limp.

By afternoon, the family reached an abandoned uncompleted building at the edge of the town. Mercy looked around. There were no doors, no windows—just concrete walls, dust, and danger. But it was all they had.

"This will be our home for now," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Faith didn't speak. She simply lay on the concrete floor, holding shoe close. Anita began wiping Daniel's forehead with her scarf—he had a fever. The other boys curled beside Mercy. The wind blew harshly through the open windows, making the place colder.

Later that evening, a kind woman who used to patronize Mercy's restaurant passed by and saw them. Her name was Mama Grace. She stopped immediately.

"Jesus! Mercy, is that you? What happened?"

Mercy broke down again. Mama Grace listened as Mercy poured out everything—from the beatings to the eviction. The older woman sighed deeply.

"This world is wicked. But I can't take you all in... my house is already packed. Still, I'll try to help."

True to her word, Mama Grace returned hours later with food, old clothes, and a blanket for the children. It wasn't much, but it felt like gold to the broken family.

That night, as Daniel lay beside his mother, he whispered weakly, "Mummy, don't cry again. I'll grow up and buy you a big house... bigger than the one we left."

Mercy kissed his forehead, tears silently falling. "My son, just stay alive for me... please."

And in that moment, something inside her shifted.

The world might have turned its back on her, but she still had something worth fighting for—her children. They were her reason to breathe. Her reason to stand again.