“So somebody was beating up your sister and you did nothing about it!” My mother snapped when I got home.
My sister was sitting on the elevated floor, sobbing and eyeing me as if I was responsible for the beating she got.
“Beating kwa? I didn’t see anything.” I denied.
“I can see that you have lost your senses, Chike! How can you just stand aside and watch a mad girl beat up your sister?! Are you really my son?”
“Sebi she was forming senior, senior pangolo! Why did she run away?” I mocked.
“Bia Chike, are you sure that you were not exchanged in the hospital, because no son of mine would choose a mad girl over his sister!”
I ignored my mother and sang, “Anytime that I look into her eyes, I see fire in them, fire. If love is a crime then I’m willing to be wanted!” I continued singing as I walked past my mother.
She turned and snapped, “May fire burn that your mouth there!”
Unfazed by her words, I shouted from inside the room, “Fire, burning! Keep the fire burning burning! Fire, burning… Keep the fire burning?!” I danced to my music and added, “Zee love fire is burning in my heart! Kai mama! Na me go marry am, eh-eh, na you go be her in-law, eh-eh!”
“Tufiakwa!” My mother spat. “Anupama!” She hissed and adjusted her wrapper. “We need to invite a pastor to come and cast this demon out of your head!”
No words could get into me. I was too in love to reason with anybody.
To be continued…
© Angela Okoduwa
This is a very strange love