Kay Ugwuzor

I am sitting on the edge of one of the back chairs of the department, hearing the rain fall relentlessly on the roof, on the road, on people. Millions of drops fall along the HOds car, washing away the filth but never the filth it has gathered over the years. I am tired, hungry. I imagine myself stubbornly waging through the rain to the cafeteria. You are sitting next to me, flipping through the selfies you have just taken on my phone. So concerned with your image in the photo that it seems you have forgotten I'm here. You edit them, filtering, cropping, collageing, trying to appear more than you are. I want to tell you you are absolutely stunning in the unedited photos, to tell you that your eyes are round and bold and beautiful like the full moon. But I don't, it'll be useless, I think so and I let you remain, not going beyond your 'don't you have instasquare? Or that editing app' questions. I'd mutter something  even I don't hear and download the app...

[Sweeping. Door creaks. Mama has entered] Chinatu: {excitedly} Mama good afternoon, Noh o! Mama: My daughter, good afternoon, kedu? How are you? Chinatu: I am fine Mama, very fine. Mama: Look at how you have managed to clean up this place. What would I do without your helping hands? Chinatu: [laughs] Mama, you would do a lot. Mama: I don’t think so o. these boys just frustrate my efforts in these house. They never do anything. All they do is go to wherever in the morning and come back when the sun has gone down, smelling of palm wine, asking of food and finding the path to their own rooms. They are twins and they are inseparable, almost every corner of this village knows them. Chinatu: But at least they help once in a while. Didn’t you say it was Chika that single handedly built the zinc shade in the back yard? And that Ihe’s came back from the farm last week with that antelope on his neck, that we’ve been eating since then. Mama: [sigh] Ok, I agree they ...