A Ray of Hope — A Short Story

“It’s fine duwa, school is more important than anything else.”

It is the beginning of the first day of the week. Amaya turns off the greasy stove as her mother prepares a mediocre cup of tea. Amaya considers it a taste made in heaven, for her mother’s tea can surely give her the strength to move on for the rest of the day. In the other room, her brother Malith quietly puts on his worn-out shoes and wonders if he can last another day before it wears off, then grins with a satisfied smile. Amaya smiles too, as she drinks her mother’s tea while cautiously trying to memorise the Pythagorean Theorem on the pages of her book.

Her father is out in the paddy field as Amaya looks out through the opening of the wall, which they consider a “window,” and admires the scenic landscape of her hometown. She then proceeds to pack her books and her accessories, kisses her mother goodbye, and promises to bring her a book from her school library so that she will someday learn the art of literacy.

Amaya quietly looks out through the window with a cup of tea.

Malith and Amaya walk hand in hand through the golden sun-kissed landscape and the lush green flora, taking care to avoid every wet stone. Amaya urges Malith to sing the multiplication times tables along with her so that not a single moment is wasted on their journey. Together, they cross the village banks and run through the coconut fields, almost in time for school. Malith accidentally trips on a dented twig, but they manage to laugh it off, because why let a small misfortune ruin the rest of your day?

At last, they finally reached the rocky road that leads to the school, but something was missing. Amaya’s sixth sense is immediately alert because her instincts motion her to proceed further. A drowning feeling erupts in her stomach as she and Malith walk past the road to the school. Alas, when they reach their destination, not a single child is present at the entrance.

The school is empty, with not a single soul left out.

Amaya and Malith are confused, because surely today is not a holiday, nor is she mistaken about today’s date. Yet, not a single soul is seen present at the premises. Amaya is filled with panic; what happened to the very place that was the only hope of having a stable education? Where were all her friends and teachers?

Suddenly, a glimpse appears in the shadows and it is Miss Sanjeevi, her class teacher — no, the only teacher in the school. Her face is packed with sweat and dust as she moves out of the entrance and spots Amaya and Malith, trying to digest their shock. Miss Sanjeevi takes the initiative to break the news to the children as she rushes towards them, kneeling in front to look them in the eye.

“Putha,” she questions Amaya gently, “What are you doing here?”

“What happened, miss?” Amaya replies in a shocked voice, “Isn’t there school today?”

Miss Sanjeevi heaves a guilty sigh as she holds both Malith and Amaya, “Lamai, there is no school today. The school is permanently closed from now on because I don’t think the administration has enough money to support it.”

“But..” Amaya hesitates, “How are we going to study?”

“I’m very sorry, Amaya.” Her teacher muttered, for clearly, she didn’t want to intentionally break the child’s dreams, “I think you both have to head home now.”

Amaya and Malith are devastated as they look at their abandoned school.

On the way back, Amaya and Malith are devastated by the news. Here she was an hour ago, a mind full of goals and a glistening fire in her heart to learn. She suddenly feels hopeless. Her brother, Malith, seems to have taken the news lightly, but it does not bother him much. Who was she to blame him anyway? Malith was only eight years old and did not fully understand the importance of education.

Once Amaya and Malith reach home, their mother is surprised to see them home early. Amaya does not utter a word once, as she calmly hangs her bag on the remaining piece of wood for the door and heads out to the paddy field. Her mother is dumbstruck over this sudden confusion, as she kisses Malith and rushes over to the field to Amaya so that she can clear her uncertainty.

“Duwa, what happened?” Her mother quietly asks her as she sits next to Amaya across the paddy field. “Why didn’t you go to school?”

“The school’s closed. Permanently.”

Amaya lies in a wreck as her mother rushes forward to console her.

Amaya’s mother is instantly flabbergasted by the news and heaves a quick breath to take it in. She saw it coming, as she knew the village council was running short on funds, and closing the school was the only option. The best thing she could do was comfort her daughter, and she might even get a hand or two with the chores.

“Don’t worry,” she says, “You could probably help Thaththa out in the paddy field more.”

Amaya and her mother quietly sit next to each other at the golden paddy field.

“I’m not giving up, Amma.” Amaya suddenly regains her structure and looks her mother directly in the eye with a smile. I’m going to make sure Malith and I have the best education, and I have a plan. Just wait and see.” Amaya then smiles in satisfaction, as she looks at the emerging sunlight.

Her mother beams with pride, because there was one thing that was impossible, and that was tearing a child’s determination to get an education.