By Polo Qeja
The air today was thinner than yesterday. Cooler. Wilder. Strong winds weren’t a familiar element in this kind of town. Never have been… until today.
“Strange.” Indeed.
Green bottles were littered with sparse intent on the greying pavement. Garbage bags were yet to be disposed; however, marked by the indented holes, they were far from ready for disposal. In the far east of the street lay—what I assumed were—old tripod sticks and clothes scattered on a random lawn like a fashion fad. It seemed that youngsters were roaming in this neighbourhood. Probably aspiring female influencers. The train of thought broke from its spell by the pungent smell of smoke lurking in the breeze. Clearly, the street smelt far worse than it looked; disoriented or maybe for lack of a better term… youthful.
“It’s weed.” I hummed in agreement. Clive was usually wrong about many things, but today proved to be a day of many tricks and wonders.
“You think she’s home?” Clive asked.
10.51am. This was the appointed time. Odd but nonetheless, set and approved. The Mavericks were usually known for their ghostly rumours, always around but never truly seen. They were vampires in the making. In fact, the plain porcelain home before me was a set example of their famously rumored demeanour; rigid.
Just then, the front door creaked open, the action pulling the slightest groan from the old wooden door. My eyes were torn from the neighbouring scene.
“Good morning. Please, come in.” The voice was as meek as a mouse, her tone as strong as a fort. She was a delicate girl.
Prudence Mbali Maverick.
Clive and I shared a knowing glance before we followed her inside her home. Prudence Maverick was a meticulous being, crafty with her hands and graceful with her feet. Unlike the rumours, she wore soft features and stood tall with poise—despite the vertical challenge.
It wasn’t long before Clive and I found our appointed seats, nothing but journals, pens, and recorders in hand.
“May I offer you anything to drink?” She proposed.
“No thank you.” The opportunity to lead was presented. “We’ll just ask you a few questions regarding the documentary.”
The twenty one year old was intriguingly confident and timid all at once. She never held eye contact for more than ten seconds and the minuscule fidgets of her fingers were a giveaway. She was calmly… nervous. A paradoxical creature. It seemed to be a prominent trait of hers; oddity.
She spoke no word. The silence hung stiff in the air.
“You plan on going to Italy?” I asked, referring to the various posters of Italian landscapes behind her. Each one was plastered on the dull white wall, a sense of desire etched to each image. A map was hung up, its ends curled with years of endurance. Her hope was written all over them. Silently.
“Oh,” her gaze gradually fell to the floor, a warm smile rising on her face. It was such a rare sight, a young woman of such calibre to blush at a simple answer. “yes.”
“What’s the occasion for, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She hesitated. Then, “I’m chasing freedom.”
Intrigue was an understatement. I hadn’t noticed my body leaning forward with anticipation nor my eyebrows pulling together at the unique information. I was thought-provoked. “How so?”
She looked out the open window, albeit envisioning her ‘freedom’. It was hard to believe. A woman in the 21st century still chasing freedom? I had seen many women and none were chasing freedom. Not even me. This statement was out of touch, and yet… the yearn in her eyes did not waver. Her hopeful smile still gazed at the sun. Prudence, in that moment, mirrored a number of women just like her. Maybe too few to mention, but they existed. Young and hopeful about the future.
“For my purpose.” Her eyes found mine. “Purpose gives room for freedom, and freedom gives room for purpose.”
I was astonished. “Why freedom?”
“Well, no one expects a life out of a woman. Especially one like me. Young. Strong-willed. Curious. A woman with a purpose? That is a rare story to hear.” Her eyes returned to the open window as though the sun were calling her. “I want to be something. I don’t know what yet, but I want to explore it.”
Her words stuck with me throughout the course of the day. Prudence Mbali Maverick was a star waiting to shine.
