I woke up as usual by 5am, said a little prayer and climbed down from my bunk-bed. It seemed like a big achievement for me, to be able to climb up and down the iron bed without falling flat on my face. The first day I slept on it, I had been so sure that I would fall off, but somehow in my unconscious state, I had suddenly gained the ability to sleep without moving, I had woken up in the same position that I had slept in.

That day, I could feel my imaginary audience clapping for me as I came down from the bed with a proud smile on my sleepy face. For many people, it was nothing. But when I had told my elder sister, Obiageli, she had jokingly offered to go to the church for thanksgiving. She was the only person that understood how much it meant to me to be able to sleep and wake-up in one position. After-all, she had been at the brunt of the kicks and hand flings at night while we slept together in our room in Asaba. I couldn’t remember the number of times that I had slept and then when I woke up, I was in a totally different situation from that which I had slept in, a number of times, I had woken up on the cold tiled floor, legs tangled in the wrapper I used to cover myself before I went to sleep.

I quietly picked up a bucket from the toilet in the room, rolling my eyes at the stupid rule written on the door “Do not use the toilet inside the rooms.” What was the use of building a toilet in the room and then making a rule telling people not to use it. I carried my towel as well as my soap case and my already pasted tooth-brush and went out of the room, making sure to close the door quietly.

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https://www.thezenpens.com/2019/06/27/tales-of-a-chinese-translator-part-1/