STORY – CHINDA’S TALE_4

I was so happy and couldn’t wait to tell grandma the good news. I ran into the compound and saw a police van. A police van? I stopped in my tracks, too scared to enter the house. What was a police van doing in grandma’s house?

“Mama? Mama?!” I said running into the house. When I got inside the living room, I saw grandma arms folded  and two police men standing and talking to her.
“Granny what is it? What is going on?!” I asked rushing to her side seeing that she was in distress.
“Nda your mother…your mother..your mother…” she said trailing off before hissing and shrugging.
“Ermmm madame,  we shall take our leave now. We suggest you go and see her as she named you as her next of kin. Good day” the policeman said before exiting the apartment.
When the police men had left the compound, I asked her again what the issue was.
“Wait…is mummy dead?” I asked expecting only one answer.
“My daughter is not dead. Tufiakwa. It’s not her time” granny said passing her hand over her head.
“Then what is it nau? What did the police say?” I continued impatiently.

STORY – CHINDA’S TALE_3

“…and so I stabbed him with the letter opener and ran out of…” I paused when her phone rang.
“It’s your mother” she said showing me the phone screen.

“Mama please don’t tell her that I am here. Please I don’t want to go back there. Please” I begged hopelessly.
“Hello” she said into the receiver. I couldn’t hear my mum on the other end but from what I could hear, there was something about a robbery, someone going to the hospital and a police report. When mama was done with the phone call, she looked me in the eye and asked me if I was telling the truth.
“Mama, I swear, that man is a monster! See my neck” I said, showing her the faded scars on my neck and thighs.
“Your mother just called me to tell me that armed robbers attacked her husband and stabbed him. She said that she has gone to file a missing person’s report for you because her husband thinks the robbers may have taken you” mama explained.
“Jesus! It’s a lie mama. He tried to do it again! He’s lying! He’s lying” I screamed with tears rolling down my cheeks “He’s a liar!”

…SO WE COOKED MY SON AND ATE HIM

“Speak woman! How may I help you?”

She fell to the floor exhausted, tears gushing down her eyes. She was tired. She lacked the words to explain what had just happened to her. What had she just done to herself? Would the king kill me? How was I to explain the inexplicable? Drowning in her own thoughts, she wailed again in the king’s palace,

“Help me, your majesty”

“Speak woman, what’s your trouble?” The king asked again as he obviously began to lose his patience

Trying to put herself together, she knelt before the king. I have to try. There is nothing left to lose

“Your majesty,” she said, taking a deep breath, “The other day a woman suggested that we eat my child and then eat her child the next day. I didn’t have a choice. Things went beyond my control. It was the only way out. So we cooked my son and ate him. The next day, I told her we had to eat her son but she hid him from me”

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STORY – CHINDA’S TALE_2

“Chii? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She asked, touching my temple. I just stared at her because I didn’t even know what to say to her. As I opened my mouth to speak, I burst into tears. Amidst my tears, I told her everything and even showed her the bruises on my wrists, my forehead, my neck and my thighs. When I was done, I looked at her face expecting a reaction – any reaction. Anger, sadness, hatred, pain – anything. Instead, I saw disgust, disbelief and betrayal.


“What exactly is this you are telling me?” She said, letting go of me and moving away

“Mummy, Mr. Kevin raped me! He raped me!! I was…”
“Common shut up your mouth! Foolish child!! I am very disappointed in you. I knew you never like him but I never knew you would go through all this.” she said before turning away from me.
“Mummy…”
“Keep quiet. I need to call the pastor please. I can’t handle this alone. Ah ah, can you imagine?” She said as she walked out of my room. About two minutes later, I heard her on the phone with our pastor asking for an appointment for deliverance because she felt “her daughter has been possessed by the devil himself. I felt weak, I suddenly had a throbbing headache that forced me to my knees. I slowly sat down on the floor and I was totally blank. I didn’t know what to think or say because if my mother didn’t believe me, then there was nothing I could do again. It couldn’t have been a dream because the red and purple bruises on my arms and thighs were a constant reminder of the reality of that night.

STORY – CHINDA’S TALE_1

“DING! DING!! DING!!!” went the alarm clock in my room. It always made sure I never went late for my exams because I usually read late into the night. I had already set it for 6:00 am because I had my geography exam the next day. I hadn’t realized it had been two hours since my step-father left my room.

Yesterday night’s experience left me exhausted and in shock. The last time I felt this traumatized was when I came home to my crying mum and my father’s corpse in the bedroom. He had been sick for a while and the doctors literally sent him back home to die. After daddy’s death, mum and I found a way to survive and be there for each other. We were best friends and did almost everything together like we were sisters until last year December when she broke my heart.

I remember that day vividly. Before mum left for work that Friday morning, she told me that she had something to talk to me about. She said this to me with so much excitement in her voice and refused to tell me what it was until she got back from work. When I heard the sound of mum’s keys at the door knob, I jumped out of my bed and ran to the living room to give her the traditional bear hug welcome. It was when we broke off the hug that I noticed the other person in the room smiling at my mum and I.

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PHOTO STORY: SOLA’S TALE

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I had a very long day at work and all I could think about was that I needed to get some serious rest. Once I got out of the car, I half-ran to the door of my apartment, fished out my keys from my purse, pushed the door open and headed for my bedroom. It was almost as if my bed had a magnetic pull of some sort on me. In fact, if you had looked at me that instant, you would have sworn that I was high on something and needed a snort.

I hung my coat and my keys in the ante-room and made a bee-line for my bedroom. When I made it to the living room, my sleep-addled brain registered that something was wrong. Scratch that – everything was wrong. My gaze swept the whole room. Shit. All my stuff was gone. I slowly slid to the floor, pulled off my stilettos, dropped my handbag and sat there on my expensive wooden finished floor.I scoffed. Every single thing was gone: my 32-inch HD television set was gone, the spare cash I hid under my arm chair was gone, my hand-made crochet centre mat was gone and what’s worse, my sister’s priceless painting  she gave to me on my 35th birthday was gone. The thieves, whoever they were, cut it out of its frame and dumped it there on the floor for me to mourn its absence.

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CHRONICLES OF MY NHJ: HAPPY NAPPYVERSARY TO ME

Hello guys! It’s October 3 and on this day in 2015 I had my big chop! Yes, yes, I’m so excited too!

I don’t even know where to start from really because my journey so far has been interesting and exciting as well. I have learnt a lot about my hair and it has forced me to learn more about myself too. In case you might be wondering how this whole journey started, you can click on the posts below to find out.

CHRONICLES OF MY NHJ: THE DECISION TO GO NATURAL

CHRONICLES OF MY NHJ: THE BIG CHOP

Ever since I had my big chop, I have been sharing my experiences with you all and if you have been missing these posts, then click on the link below to see all my posts.

POSTS ON MY NATURAL HAIR JOURNEY

A lot of girls right now are actually willing to go natural but are being held back by the same thing that almost held me back for a while.

OVER THINKING THINGS

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CHIP AND LEAD

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We can’t get it right all the time you know? You’re allowed to go crazy and ballistic once in a while to let out the stress from that pressure. What pressure you ask? The pressure from our teachers, parents, future kids and ourselves. The pressure to write a good story before the lead in that pencil finishes.

The quarter-life crisis is a period of life ranging from twenties to thirties, in which a person begins to feel doubtful about their own lives, brought on by the stress of becoming an adult. The term was coined by analogy with mid-life crisis.

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STUCK IN SEPTEMBER

I woke up this morning with sore feet from the dance rehearsals yesterday and a sore, itchy right eye from the day before due to an infection. I woke up as always and picked up my phone and I saw it there:

“01-10-16”

with a picture of me smiling the background.

I then turned over and tried to meditate on the month of September and my dealings with her. I tried to concentrate but there was a spinning sound in the background and I turned to my right side and realised that my DVD player was still paused on Episode 4 of Orange is the new Black Season 3. (Yes, I’m a fan)

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