VIOLET

14

Violets mum stood in the living room, wrapping her newly purchased kente cloth around her small frame, mumbling in twi, her native language, as she watched her daughter slumped down on the sofa.
"Violet.nana.efua!" Her kente cloth slipping off her shoulders "what are you doing with your life, 22 years old yet you are sitting on your mothers couch watching cartoons."

"Don't worry mum I haven't left uni or anything, just missed you."
Violet decided one day as ,she was surrounded by pizza boxes trying to convince herself that she should not be talking to Luke, that she needs to be independent, that she needs to love herself more and to do so she needed to get away from New York.

"KOFI" violets mother,Araba, shouted to her husband who was upstairs indulging in literature. "YOURE DAUGHTER IS LOVESICK."

"No ,why do you always assume that?"

"Because" Araba sighed " Come and help me cook, so that you can cook for your husband some day."

"Yes because I've been going to school most of my life so that when I get married I'll cook for my husband." Violet replied sarcastically.

"Speaking of Marriage, when are you getting married." Araba set a couple of plantains on the counter, ones she had fought the shop keeper who had originally give ones that weren't fresh for.

Before Violet could respond in her usual sarcastic tone, kofi walked downstairs, the book 'harmattan rain by Ayesha Harruna Attah' in hand, a book that he would always read Violet. "Etesen" he greeted.

"E ye."

"Who's this boy or girl your mum is talking about?."

"No one." Violet grabbed a knife and started to cut the plantains her mother had pealed. "Harmattan rain, again?."

"Yes ,always."