Ghostroots: Stories

A son? My heart broke a little. A son who could grow up to become a man, a man who might hurt other people no matter how well I raise him because a man is a man, even when he is the best man—as Timi has shown me.

If to forgive is divine, why am I resisting my own divinity?

Do mothers run from daughters who remind them that they carry their own mothers on their faces?

“Women suffer enough. Don’t add man problem on top. Keep your shoes beside the door.”

Your father has been a good father, if oddly protective of your mother and her extreme religiosity. You are starting to understand that this must stem from knowing her history.

Everything might be different if Mummy just asked me first about the HGC contract. “Girlie, do you want to go?” Or if Iya Tomato just asked me whether I can be her friend that is like a daughter. Because I am starting to feel like one of Baby’s toys that cannot even say yes or no. Is this what it means when you are a daughter?

How do I tell my mother, the woman who told me never to stay with a man who disrespects me in any way, that I am doing just that?

There are stories we leave buried so our children can move without weight.”