GHETTO LOVE

CHAPTER TWO

Mornings in the ghetto are not always beds of roses. On an early Monday morning, the vibe to hustle for the new week is fresh and unblemished, hence the impatient tenants struggling for a space to bathe or fetch water. You don't get things that easily in this ghetto. You have to work really hard for it, or if you think you're up for it, then get it illegally. Stealing, or just borrowing for a really long period of time.

5AM in the ghetto is a really bad time to be up because there's already a long queue of people waiting to fetch water and nine-to-fiver's would have taken over the shower already. Your work may begin at nine, but the traffic would show you that even 2AM is not too bad a time to be up.

"I told you to always wake up on time to fetch water, Tiwa! Do you know the hours those people are bound to take?" Mum scolds me as she hurriedly finishes the dough for the doughnuts. She cuts them into fine plump rings and I stand at a corner, listening to her hurtful insults while preparing the filling for the meat-pie. My eyes are still very blurry because it's not that easy to sleep really late and be up before five.

You may have guessed, but my Mum is a caterer. You see those egg rolls, doughnuts and buns always displayed in transparent cabinets at tuck shops? My Mum is one of the people responsible for such hospitality. She caters for different schools, but you may be wondering where all the money goes to.

"Good morning, Mum!" Kelvin says, yawning loudly but Mum doesn't respond. I hear his silent chuckle and suppress a yawn so she doesn't yell more in my direction.

"I really wonder how you both sleep the way you do. You know your father is not stable- "

"Stable? Pfft!" Kelvin sighs as he chews on the dough. He's out of his mind, selfish and not worthy of that title, "Father". Stable is an entirely different word, Mum!" he corrects and she heaves a deep sigh.

"Now don't talk about the man that raised you to become what you are today in that manner. Do you know how much sacrifices we have made to make sure you two are well brought up and educated?" Mum cries out in a weary tone but one thing is for sure, Kelvin is not gonna end the conversation with Dad being tagged the good cop.

"If he were so good a person as you boast about, he should be here, with us. And you know that," he tells and gulps down a jug of water. Mum doesn't say anything more. It's either she's  thinking of what to say, or she just doesn't want to get into another word fight with Kelvin.

I head towards the room to get my clothes and head for the shower. I dig though the little pile on the mat on the floor, searching for a particular grey sweater Kelvin gave me last christmas but it seems to have disappeared. I kneel at Mum's box and check through it but it isn't there either. I sigh and stand up. Kelvin walks in and slumps on his bed, a slice of bread in his hand.

"Been searching for that grey sweater for forever!" I say and sit beside Kelvin's scanty pile of clothes that leak from a Ghana-must-go bag. "You probably stole it!" I accuse and he laughs loudly.

"If there's anyone capable of giving someone a gift, only to collect it back later on, it's you!" he accuses and I roll my eyes with a chuckle. "But you can check through my stuff, just for your peace of mind!" he adds and I smile, getting his stuff out one by one while he types away with his phone to his face.

kelvin's pile is really just endless shirts and little shorts. I shove the pack of condom to the bottom of the bag and smile a bit, still rummaging though his clothes. I hold on to a soft material and pull it out. My brain takes milliseconds to process and affirm that the ziploc in my hand contains drugs - cocaine, probably. I look at him but he still has his face to his phone.

I throw it straight at his face and he looks up at me. "Wale!" I call out. "Care to explain?" I ask and he stays silent, perhaps too stunned to speak. "I swear it's not mine!" he attempts lying and I sigh, standing up.