In Ghana, Saturdays are not for sleeping late. For fourteen-year-old Samantha, Saturday meant the "Market Day" adventure with her father.
The morning air in their small town was cool. Samantha climbed into the front seat of the white Toyota Corolla. The car was old, and the seats had small tears, but it was clean. Her father, Joseph, put a small crate of eggs carefully in the back.
"Are you ready, my helper?" Joseph teased.He was wearing his favorite brown trousers and a shirt that smelled of laundry soap.
"Yes, Daddy. I have the notebook and the blue pen," Samantha said, waving her small exercise book.
They drove to the big market. The streets were full of people. Women carried large basins of tomatoes on their heads, and young men pushed trucks full of yams. Joseph parked the car near their two stores. These stores were his pride. They sold everything—bags of rice, tins of milk, sugar, and soap.
"Samantha, sit here," Joseph said, pointing to a high wooden stool behind the counter. "You watch the money. I will move the heavy bags."
Samantha felt like a queen on her wooden throne. She was only fourteen, but she was very good at math. When a customer came to buy two tins of milk and a packet of sugar, Samantha did not need a calculator.
"That is 30 cedis, Auntie," she said with a bright smile.
"Ei! Joseph, your daughter is too sharp!" the woman laughed, handing Samantha the money. "She will be a big manager one day."
Joseph wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at Samantha. His heart was full. "She is already a manager. She is my Star."
By afternoon, the sun was very hot. Joseph took two cold bottles of Fanta for them to drink. They sat together on a wooden bench inside the store.
"You see all these people, Samantha?" Joseph asked, pointing to the busy market. "They are all working hard for their children. Everything I have—this store, the other one at the corner, and the cocoa farms—is for you."
"I know, Daddy," Samantha said, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I will take care of them. I will make the stores bigger."
Joseph's face became a bit sad for a moment. "Your mother used to sit here too. She was the one who taught me how to save the small pesewas. She always said that many small drops of water make a big ocean."
"I miss her, Daddy," Samantha whispered.
"I miss her too," Joseph said. He squeezed her hand. "But when I look at you, I see her. You are smart and kind. Just promise me one thing: never let greedy people take what we have worked for. Keep your eyes open."
Samantha didn't really understand what he meant by "greedy people." To her, the world was safe because her father was there. She just nodded and went back to writing the sales in her notebook.
She didn't know that far away in the village, some of her uncles were already talking about her father's money. She didn't know that one day, she would have to fight them to keep these stores. For now, she was just a happy twelve-year-old girl, drinking cold soda with her best friend—her father.