Maame Ama took a deep breath, her fingers briefly tightening on the steering wheel. As she unbuckled her seat belt, she turned to Rose.

“Osofo Maame, please pray for us.”

Rose nodded. “Sure, sure. Let’s close our eyes and pray.”

As Maame Ama and Dzigbordi closed their eyes, she lifted her face slightly towards the heavens.

“Father, we thank You for bringing us here safely. You Who is the Good Shepherd of our souls, we know You know the hearts of Your children. We know You see this precious daughter of Yours. Nana Akua Quarcoopome. The one who strayed for long, but returned, even if only for a moment.

“We’re not here by chance, Lord. It is You that ordered our steps. So now that we are here, we ask You to go before us. Let every word we speak carry Your love, not our judgment. Let every look from our eyes reflect Your mercy. Break down walls. Heal wounds. Restore what’s been lost.Use us, Lord. Not for show. Not for glory. But for Your Kingdom. For this soul. For Your joy. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.”

“Amen,” the women echoed.

Maame Ama opened her eyes, looked ahead at the gate, then at Rose and Dzigbordi, nodding with a passionate conviction.

“Alright, sisters. It’s time. Let’s go and find our lost sister.”

***

The three women walked up to the gate. Maame Ama raised her hand and knocked firmly.

There was no sound for a while.

Then they could hear the soft sound of footsteps.

A few moments later, the gate creaked open slightly, and a young woman, most likely in her late twenties or early thirties, stood before them. She had on an old-looking house dress and worn slippers, and her natural hair was bundled into a loose puff.

She barely batted an eyelid as she beheld them, not even bothering to greet them. It was almost as if she had expected them to come a lot earlier.

“I know who you’re looking for,” she said, flatly. “You’re from that church, right? Greener Pastures head pastor?”

Maame Ama nodded and gave a small but kind smile. “Yes, that’s me. And these are my sisters, Dzigbordi and Rose. We’re here to see Nana Akua.”

The woman folded her arms, glancing at them before shaking her head. “She told me you might come. She said if anyone from Greener Pastures showed up, it would probably be you. But… I don’t think she’ll want to talk to you. She’s… she’s too ashamed.”

Maame Ama’s smile softened into a sincere expression. “I can understand that. But, we’re not here to judge her or condemn her. We didn’t come to rehash the past or anything like that. We simply came to find out where she’s been and what she’s been through. That’s all.”

Rose stepped forward slightly. “We know there’s a reason why she came by the church yesterday, and we want her to know she’s welcome back.”

Dzigbordi nodded. “It doesn’t matter what happened in the past. She’s still one of us, no matter what. That doesn’t change.”

The woman studied them for a long moment. The guarded look on her face wavered. It was as though she was internally debating whether to let them in or not.

“Listen, my sister,” Maame prodded gently, “we know how she feels. But it would be wrong of us to just leave her to her own fate. Like my sister just said, there’s a reason she came back. There’s something she’s looking for, and we want her to know that we are here for her. The God we serve never casts us away when we return to Him when we stray, so we don’t have the right to do that to anyone else. Please, let us see her.”

After a moment or two, her shoulders dropped slightly, and she nodded as she stepped aside, pulling the gate open fully.

“Alright,” she nodded. “Come in. She’s inside.”

***

The woman and the trio stepped into the living room of Nana Akua’s home. It was modest at first sight: a simple beige carpet, a few chairs arranged near the main couch, and a standing fan doing its job to cool the place as it stood in the corner.

None of them had ever been here before, which was no surprise, really. Nana Akua had been such a nuisance, most people wanted to be as far from her as possible, so visiting her was an option nobody ever wanted to take.

The young lady herself was in the living room, hunched on a faded sofa. Her arms were crossed, and her eyes red but defiant.

She was thinner than they remembered, and her face gaunt. It was way too apparent to anyone that knew her from back in the day that this was not the Nana Akua of old; this version of her had been through some tough times.

As the three women entered, and she saw them, her eyes snapped to the lady who had opened the gate.

“Ah, Ewurama!” Nana Akua shot up as she rose to her feet. “What did I tell you? Didn’t I tell you not to let them in?”

Maame Ama gently stepped forward, palms slightly raised. “Nana Akua, please. We just want to–”

“No, no, no, please!” Nana Akua cut in, her voice trembling with forced defiance. “I know why you’ve come here. You think I’m some lost and broken and… and-and some pathetic soul bi, and you’ve come to repeat some long ‘oh, Jesus loves you’ speech bi to me. Please! I know I’m not welcome at Greener Pastures. I saw it yesterday. The stares, the whispers. The people there don’t like me. Don’t pretend. And let’s be honest, I don’t blame them. I deserve it. I don’t know why I even bothered to show up in the first place.”

Rose opened her mouth to speak. “Nana Akua–“

“No, no, no, no, Pastor Rose, please. Spare me. We all know this! We all know! I don’t deserve anything from any of you! We know what a terrible person I was. I brought so much trouble to that church. I offended nearly everyone, just because I could. I made Auntie Sonia cry just for being Nigerian. I teased Memuna that she’s fat to the point that she left. I said horrible things to so many people. And as for Pastor Maame Ama…” she looked at Maame Ama, her eyes glistening with remorse, “I… I bullied your son. A little boy. Who does that?”

Her voice cracked as she turned away from them, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I deserved the hostility. I deserved the stares and the whispers. I was a terrible girl, doing stupid things just because it felt good. Stooping so low to tease a little boy because he lisps. Ah! How low could I get? Maybe if I’d lost mine earlier, I’d have understood. But I guess life had to teach me the hard way.”

The room was silent for a moment, as Nana Akua’s words lingered in the air. It took a moment for the ladies to notice the oddity in that statement.

“Lost mine?” Rose repeated, her brows furrowing.

Maame Ama stared at Nana Akua, confused. “Wh-wh… what do you mean by that?”

Her back still turned to them, Nana Akua suddenly gasped. It had just dawned on her that she had spoken more than she intended. Her shoulders shook slightly.

“Nana Akua, what happened?”

Unable to answer, Nana Akua sank back onto the couch. She whimpered, as though she wanted to speak, but could not get the words out. Her body crumbled forward, sobs racking through her.

The room was suddenly filled with stifled heartbreak, as those intelligible whimpers turned into pitiful sobs.

Without hesitation, Maame Ama, Rose, and Dzigbordi rushed forward. They knelt in front of her, their arms reaching out to wrap around her.

“Shhhh… It’s okay,” Maame Ama whispered softly. “We’re here for you, Nana Akua. No matter what happened, we’re here for you.”

Rose began praying under her breath, her hand on Nana Akua’s back while Dzigbordi gently held her arm, whispering, “Take your time, sweetheart. We’re not leaving.”

***

It was almost 9 o’clock.

In a small corridor just off the living room, Maame Ama stood by the window with her phone pressed to her ear. Her husband, who was home with the kids, was obviously wondering how the visit was going.

“Yeah, we’re still here, Bright,” she spoke softly. “She’s calming down, bit by bit. I just want to make sure she’s in a good headspace before we leave.”

Bright’s voice came through, steady and supportive. “Take all the time you need, honey. I’ll handle dinner with the kids. Just keep me updated. And, Maame Ama?”

“Yes?”

“I’m proud of you.”

She smiled faintly. “Thank you, darling. You’re my biggest cheerleader.”

After hanging up, she exhaled deeply and made her way back into the living room.

Ewurama was seated beside Nana Akua, a box of tissues in hand. Rose was humming hymns softly while her fingers rubbed gentle circles on Nana Akua’s shoulder. Dzigbordi sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her, her eyes soft and attentive. Nana Akua herself had stopped crying, but her eyes were still glassy and her eyes red.

Maame Ama quietly returned to her spot beside Dzigbordi, crouching so she could meet Nana Akua’s eyes.

“We’re still here,” she said gently. “Not because we’re trying to fix you… but because we care for you. Whatever you’ve gone through, you don’t have to carry it alone. We want to understand. We want to know what happened. However we can help you, we want to be able to do it. Because you’re one of our own. Forget the past, you are one of our own.”

For a moment, silence reigned. Nana Akua looked at each of them.

Aside Dzigbordi, who had joined the church after she left, she knew these women. They had seen her at her very worst: when she trash-talked almost everyone in church, constantly defied authority and caused a ruckus at every turn. They had every reason to turn their backs on her, yet they had come after her and stayed.

She took a deep breath, reached for a tissue, and wiped her eyes.

“I’m running,” she sniffed.

The ladies leaned in, listening.

“I’m running from the biggest mistake of my life.”

Her voice trembled again, and her eyes darted toward the window, as if the memory might come through it.

Ewurama’s brow furrowed. Pastor Rose’s hum faded.

Dzigbordi gently asked, “What happened?”

Nana Akua stared down at her hands, picking at her nails.

Maame Ama gently placed a hand on her knee.

“Whatever it is, Akua… you don’t have to say it all now. But we’re here. We’re listening.”

Nana Akua sniffed, then sat up and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were full of sadness and regret. She turned to them slowly, and opened her mouth to begin.

“His name… his name is Foli Dzimah.”

Hmmm, what did this Foli Dzimah guy do to Nana Akua? Well, I guess we’re about to find out…