Mama Naya

It was Saturday morning. This was the day for which we had been waiting patiently since it was when we would get to see Mama Naya. Mama Naya only visited us about twice a month since she lived far away. Seeing her felt like all the happiness in the world came rushing into my heart all at once, and hugging her felt like being wrapped up in a warm, fuzzy blanket on a cool day. I could not wait for her arrival. We lived on a hill, so we had a good view of the bus stop. Whenever we heard the rumbling of a James bus, we all ran outside to see if it was the bus Mama Naya was on.   

"Es ella?" my little brother asked around mid-morning, pointing eagerly at an old woman exiting the bus. I squinted, trying to see through the blur of the other people getting off the bus. 

"No. No es," I said. My chest felt heavy, like a rock had settled in there. Each person who stepped off the bus caused a progressively sinking feeling deep inside me. With each one, my shoulders drooped a little more, and I blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears.  

My little brother's hopeful voice broke through my thoughts, “Ya mero va venir Mama Naya. En el otro bus de seguro va avenir.” (Mama Naya is coming soon. She will definitely be on the other bus.) I couldn't share his excitement. I wanted her here now! Deep down, I was worried that Mama Naya might not come, and that saddened me more than anything. 

We continued our watch as people got off a thousand buses throughout the morning, some with big bags and others with little ones. But no Mama Naya.   

"God, please mek Mama Naya come," my little sister sighed.  

We remained outside under the mango tree where we had a swing made from a crocus sack and tied at both ends to a branch of the tree. Along with the swing, were also two long benches. Each bench was crafted from sturdy stones and logs. The stones formed the base, firmly anchored into the earth, while the logs, weathered by sun and rain, stretched across the top, providing ample seating or lying space for us. Though we played, we all kept an eye glued to the bus stop.  

Afternoon came. Our mother called us inside for lunch. We ate, cleared away the dishes, and cleaned the table. Then we went straight back outside under the mango tree. My siblings continued to play while I lay on one of the benches. The warm sunlight danced across my eyelids, coaxing them to close. A cool, gentle breeze wafted through the leaves, lulling me into a state of drowsiness.  

As I was drifting away into dreamland, I felt a jolt as my little brother shook my shoulders with all his might, his small hands surprisingly strong. His voice pierced through the air like a trumpet blast, "Mama Naya's here! Mama Naya's here!" The words filled me with a rush of adrenaline, and with a gasp, I sprang to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest.  

"Mama Naya! Mama Naya, Mama Naya!" I squealed as my siblings and I dashed down the hill toward the bus stop The stones and pebbles on the rough road sent sharp stabs of pain through my soles. I squeezed my eyes tightly and gritted my teeth against the sting—pushed through the hurt as I raced forward with all my might. Nothing was going to stop me from hugging Mama Naya tight! We reached the bus stop, and there she was—Mama Naya with her arms open wide, her smile brighter than the sun. We threw ourselves into her embrace, feeling her warmth surround us. It was the best feeling in the world. Mama Naya was finally here with us. 

As the bus pulled away, leaving behind a cloud of dust, we looked around to see what Mama Naya had brought with her. There were two big buckets filled with juicy red tomatoes and shiny emerald sweet peppers. There were also two tightly packed crocus bags—one overflowing with fresh, light-green cabbage heads and the other with crisp, dark-green cucumbers. When Mama Naya came with all those veggies, it was a secret code among me and my siblings. We grinned at each other, knowing exactly what would come next. We would be given the mission to sell all the produce. 

As we were getting ready to help Mama Naya carry the veggies home, guess who we saw approaching? Our mom and dad! With a big old rusty wheelbarrow! We stopped what we were doing and waited for them. Dad lugged the veggies into the wheelbarrow. Then my siblings and I and Dad pushed that wheelbarrow up the hill to our house while mom strutted along. It was like a big adventure, with all of us huffing and puffing but laughing all the way. 

With Mama Naya’s visit, I felt something special in my heart. A warm feeling that made me smile real big. It wasn't just about seeing her again. It was also about being with family, laughing and playing and feeling happy. It was like a big party, with Mama Naya right in the middle, bringing us closer together. 

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Laura Garcia is an English Education major at the University of Belize and resides in Ontario Village. She has a passion for teaching and working with young people, not only in academics but also in Christian dance choreography and drama.