THAT LITTLE GIRL FROM EIGHT YEARS AGO(part 1) Rose couldn't stomach it. The young girl before her was right, yet she looked petite, like a four year old. Her hair was cut so low that they were barely noticeable and the frontline was so acutely shaped that it accentuated the roundness of her face. The kind of confidence she exuded was one which Rose dared not call childish. Her fairly big and round eyes shone with expectation as she gestured to a big pair of red Tiger batteries. “We don't use big batteries,” Rose replied in her mother's place. Her lips, dried and broken as a result of the harmattan, curved into a warm smile. Her teeth were distortedly arranged but Rose thought her smile was cute. “What of this?” She touched the small Tiger batteries. Rose's mother laughed. “I already bought Festos biscuits from your mother. So you want me to buy batteries from you as well?” The girl smiled again. It was the pure tender smile of a child. For a few seconds, she stayed put. “Mum, I need new batteries for my torch. I want to read this night,” Rose whined. “Okay. We'll buy one pack,” her mother concluded. Afterwards, Rose helped place the tray of batteries on the girl's head. Day in, day out, Rose kept seeing the girl plod through the street in which her mother's shop was situated. Often, she would stop by and exchange pleasantries with Rose. They would share small talks and laughs. It would all end with a goodbye wave.