FRIDAYS 10AM
The Sickle Curse
"Hey,
Nawa o, wonders will never end. Have you heard?!" She screams at the top
her voice, punishing the ground as she runs towards the house of her long-time
friend. The child on her back is forced to cling for his dear life as his
mother charges like an angry elephant. She halts suddenly and continues
shouting and clapping with reckless abandon.
"Mama
Segun come outside o, gist dey. I told you that family was cursed didn't
I?"
"What
is it? Eh? What has happened that you won't let me have peace this evening?"
Mama Segun reluctantly proceeds from her house. Her thin legs and pinched
accentuation are a direct contrast to the thick richness that is her friend -
Mama Dapo.
"I
told you they are cursed, that family! It's why I never sell or buy from them
so they don't transfer their ancestral curse to me. Can you imagine, I was
walking by the house when I overheard them weeping...." she spits out on
the floor.
Mama Segun replies warily "Weeping? Again? Who is it
this time?"
"Their
one year old baby and Eldest son."
"Ahh!
Two children in one day? The gods forbid!"
The conversation goes on and on, they only pause at
intervals to snap a finger over their heads and spit out, hoping that the evil
doesn't befall their families too. All I can do is watch through this window.
They're at the middle of the street, shouting so that Papa, Mama and everyone
else would hear them. Soon, a small crowd forms and they're all glancing over
at my house. I wish it was love in their eyes, or at least pity, but no - It's
Hate. A kind of hatred I'm too young to understand. The kind I hope I'll never
understand.
I turn to watch my parents. They don't care what's going on
outside - or they act so. The voices don't matter but they wept continously.
The tears flow with a smoothness I envy, they fall to the ground and get lost.
They are supposed to be the embodiment of our pain, at least that's what Mama
says, but they don't seem so. If anything, the drops seem genuinely happy as
they roll off their cheeks and leap to the floor in ecstasy. A kind of ecstasy
I don't understand.
Watching the teardrops makes me want to smile but my eyes
turn to my brothers - Seun and Tayo -
and some tears fall from my cheeks too. I only knew Tayo for a year. My
precious Seun was always there, in between his crises and all the pain, he was
there. This all hurts; my eyes are tired and my mind is weak. I wish I
understood better. Everybody says my parents are cursed, that's why no-one
would trade with us. It's why Papa was away at the farm, trying to get things
for supper while Mama struggled between Seun and Tayo. I wish Chief would've
helped. His van would have gotten them to the hospital in time. Maybe, just
maybe they might've been saved - but he couldn't. He dare not bring a curse
upon himself so he thrust my mother out like a slave.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Victory Okoyomoh, pen name - Victory Wrights is an Optometry Student at the University of Benin. A writer, both prose and poetry, his works have been published in some anthologies and other websites. He also run an instagram poetry account - @victory_wrights
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MY PEN SPEAKS - THE SICKLE CURSE
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