By patricia.ngevao@awokonewspaper.sl (ATJLF/MRCG Fellow 2025)
Standing on the busy street of Abacha in Freetown, 39-year-old Aisha Kamara holds a wig delicately in her hands, the morning sun casting long shadows across the pavement. Around her, the street hums with life, ‘Waka Fine’ buses honk, street vendors call out their prices, and children rush to school with backpacks bouncing behind them. But for Aisha, the world around her feels distant, like a constant reminder of the past.
“I can still hear the gunshots, the screams. It’s hard to forget,” Aisha says softly, her gaze drifting over the crowds that flow past her. “But I’ve tried. For my children, I want peace. I want progress.”
She adds: “During the elections, I carried the weight of our history with me to the polls. My hands, these same hands that once struggled to survive during the war, now hold the wigs I sell every day to make ends meet. The war may be over, but its scars are still part of my life, woven into everything I do, every step I take.
Leave a Reply