the hem dragging in the dirt. Most of her clothing were bright and beautiful, princessy even. She never had to wear black clothing, not until now. She
right now? Tiara thought to herself du
ther's laugh, her father's terrible singing in the shower, the way they danced in the kitchen
rongs of adults eating jollof rice and discussing "what would happen to th
mediate attention. He'd lived in Lagos, visited rarely, and always left Tiara with the impression that her fat
a
d to the assembled relatives. "The estate, the b
. But she was eight, grieving, exhausted-she had no vocabulary for the danger
~
d into the house. They brought their three children-Tobi, Tola,
briskly, moving on to rearrange furniture without waiti
ew books, her parents' wedding photo. Everything else was absorbe
lawyers, accountants, business associates. Documents were signed in the study,
s company now?" Tiara asked
up. "Adult business, Tiara
I'd run it one d
"Unfortunately, he didn't plan properly. There are debts,
es, but failed to keep t
had no way to prove it. She was a child; they wer
~
ng she was supposed to return to her private
ou think yo
said, confused. Her uniform
said flatly. "You'll have to wait. Maybe next te
aid for the
debts, girl. Sto
ucation had been sacred in her home-her parents'
hool even selfish? Sh
rms, and carrying new bags. Tiara watched from the window as they piled in
she wasn't seen as family. She was an obsta
~
for-who now looked at her with sorrowful eyes-prepare breakfast for the family. She cleaned, washe
On a particular occasion, Tobi saw her and mocked her cruelly: "Why are
ve, learned to order her around: "Tiara,
meal-and then his disapproval was swift and cold. Aunt Jola's criticisms were con
se, and you're trying to
~
tten boxes. No one went there; it was beneath notice. So, Tiara claimed it, sneaking up
tucked inside a wooden box beneath an old curtain. The first entry
ten in careful script. Bravery isn't the absence o
d entry after entry-her mother's dreams, struggles, philosophies. Rec
nths before the accident,
ows that strength isn't given-it's grown, in the hardest soil, through the longest seasons. My pra
for the child she'd been just weeks ago. When the tears finally stopped, she o
't take who I was, who I'll become. I don't know how yet, but
, documenting the injustices, keeping record of the theft happening in broad daylight. The act
~
scrubbed dishes, Mrs. Oka
older woman whispered, glancing toward the
, hands still c
to sell this house. They've already transferred your father's b
an't-that's
t have helped..." Mrs. Okafor trailed off sadly. "Your father's real friends have be
plessness war inside her
s shoulders. "Be smart. Watch. Remember. One day you'
That wo
listening to her cousin's easy breathing. She thought about the
ive. No matter

GOOGLE PLAY