Sour Oranges
My father’s second wife stopped treating me with so much hatred. Few years after my mother died she stopped the mistreatment and even said I could go back to school. She became strangely kind ever since I started hawking or as she’d rather call it “selling oranges”. Even my dressing soon improved. She brought new ones every week. She had told me then that “looking good is good for business”. My fears rose with the setting of sun deep beneath the dark horizon at the dusk of everyday. I would be sent out again; to be devoured by those hawks. I was too scared to refuse or say no to my step-mother or Uduak as I’d rather call her. She would starve me for three days and I’d be left to sleep on the varender for three complete nights even when it rains. The first night I sold my oranges…
Forgotten (Episode 3)
My sisters soon rushed into mama’s arms screaming as though mama had just come back from Aba — where she usually shops for her business.
Forgotten (Episode 2)
Thirty minutes into the prayer, just as we were about to round up with the “litany of our Blessed virgin Mary” prayer, we heard a sound that had stopped us short. It came from inside mama’s room so we all stopped to listen. “Jonah!
“Jonah! Hannah?, ina ku ke? Sarah?” it was mama and she was awake.
Forgotten (Episode 1)
Yesterday, Mama came back from her shop a little early than usual, she had that pale look in her eyes, I could recall noticing how slow she was, preparing my sisters for school that morning. She didn’t answer our greetings or asked if we had gone to the chapel like she used to, she just walked unsteadily passed my kid sister who was playing on the mat and before she could open her bedroom door, she passed out…
I am Aj Oti (Joseph Oti). I’m a Writer from Cross River State Nigeria. A final year student of University of Calabar, microbiology department.