Dickson was busy weeding a long stretch of yam pounds on a hot sunny afternoon at the family's farm.The family could not afford paying laborers for such service anymore.He felt throbbing on his back and winced.Balls of sweat ran down his face as he stood to stretch his back.He looked at his poor sister,Kate,picking wild vegetables on the other side of the farm,not far from him.He wondered how the cold hands of death have changed everything.Death took his father away and plunged the family into untold hardships.He recollected how laborers lined up at his father's backyard each evening during the peak of planting seasons to get paid after working on this same farm.To imagine he would be the one to weed was unthinkable.But such was the fate of the family now that the father was no more.