Basquiat.

P R O L O U G E.

•••

"Father I am no longer a child. I should be capable of choosing who I want to marry or have relations with!"

He stared at me as if I had three heads on top of my neck.

"You wish to bring disgrace upon our family name?"

I tried to retaliate but the feeling of a sting on my my cheek hindered me speechless.

"Is it that foolish boy who has put these devilish thoughts within your head?"

He screamed with his bold accent, as I held my throbbing face.

"If your mother was here, she would skin you alive!"

"Daddy why must you be so cruel to me?" I pleaded.
"He loves me."

"Abeg! (I beg) Do you know anything about love, you stupid fool."
"Why can't you find a suitable African husband, eh?"

"African men only wish for a wife to cook, clean, and stay at home to be their personal sex toy!"
"That's not what I want out of life daddy, please."

"Na so? (Is that so), listen well well (listen to me) If I see you with that boy again, eh? I will deal with you."

"He understands me papa (father), he treats me with the utmost respect, care, and love. He shall be my husband, with or without your blessing."

"Make you no vex me! (Don't make me upset), as of today you are no longer my daughter.

"Papa pleas-"

"Comot! (Get out) I have disowned you, bastard child.

I carried myself with the last bit of pride I had left and walked toward the door.

By the look of disgust on my father's face, I knew I would never see him again.

But that was a sacrafice I was willing to make.

•••

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This book is not necessarily based on me, but the experiences I've had along with others I've witnessed. I hope you all enjoy! Kisses.

•Trvps0ul_