To My Dying Raymond. New Story

  It hasn’t been five months since our dearest mother imported her to Canada to come and study alongside me. Ekene was in Ukraine, Olaoma and me could only slay it to Canada. Our mother

 

It hasn’t been five months since our dearest mother imported her to Canada to come and study alongside me. Ekene was in Ukraine, Olaoma and me could only slay it to Canada. Our mother loved us enough to empty her lecturer-salary just to make sure we studied abroad or it was majorly to appear competent among her friends. We were happy anyways. It hasn’t been five months since Olaoma began her studies as a law student; she came over me with the story of Ray.

‘Ray. Sun rays? Who is Ray?’

‘Ray is a guy I just met, he is cool.’

‘So I should not be bothered?’ I bemoaned with a furrowed face.

‘Yas.’ She replied and waved me off. Her face was elaborate inside the mirror in her hands.

 

It was my third year before she came and I was alright. Not like I didn’t meet my Kanayo before I completely settled. Kanayo was black, Ray was white. There was not a clear difference on my mind yet I looked out for my younger sister. She was meant to be looked out for according to the commandments of love.

‘I’m still worried.’ I screamed and ran into the bath, she laughed hysterically and joined me.

Every story she gave in the following weeks about Ray was beautiful like the rainbow. They fell off her mouth so effortlessly. What she did best and what everyone should do best about whoever, is not to hide flaws as much as they do not hide perfections.

On that day, she fell on her face immediately she got into our apartment.

‘Ola,’ I wailed from the kitchen. ‘Heiiiieeey, why are you on the floor?’

My turning her face gave me a clue. Her fair skin that became fairer since she came displayed a mismatch of bloody wreaths. She had been mal-handled.’

 

‘We had a good love making, I wanted to come home quickly and tell you.’ She started behind the couch very close to where she fell.

My name is Adaoma and I am her older sister. I could not speak.

‘I was shy when I was going to pee in his bathroom, I borrowed his shirt and went into his loo, he met me there and as he dragged on me. He said he loved it when we scream and say no as he did it from behind while stand…’ the last words could not come out amidst her squalling. Tears had overwhelmed me already. She had say no to him. She stated the case like she needed to hit the point and leave the rest because maybe the rest were such brutal actions that could not be written nor expressed in words.

She wept and went to roll on the bed, pushing down the quilt. She wept, we wept.

I did nothing. I did nothing. I am an African in Canada. Nothing. To be clear, I did nothing. I just found out that they could be quick to be killed.

 

I went on a date with him, he decided to eat of what I’m eating and I generously shared. As he held his stomach in pain, squeezing his face in anguish of his own wickedness, his eyes became lightened in tears. As they closed, with his head resting helplessly on the table, I knew he could only be wondering.  Why is she smiling? Why is she not screaming for help? I did not hurt him yet I could not pretend to help him when Karma is hugging him. He died. He had to die in that quick swipe of mistake not only for my sister but for the rest of them that he loved to hear scream and say no as he did it from behind. For Black and White girls alike.

I did nothing. I figured. A lot of them are allergic to peanut-butter.

 

Also read Fainting on Duty. New Story

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