Samoan culture
-
The refrigerators hummed in the early morning as I lifted the heavy wooden flaps on the store counter. The store always felt like a prison — you could never go far. My mother left in the car to do the fa‘akau (shopping). She told me she needed me here today. She didn’t ask if I…
-
In my 20s, every time I travelled back home to Samoa, I noticed my parents were getting older. By then, I’d been living on my own long enough to understand how hard it was to keep a roof over our heads and the electricity on. I stressed about earning enough to help them, but also…
The Hidden Room 