Girls Who Dreamt of Castles

Chapter Fifteen

"You must never behave as if your life belongs to a man... Your life belongs to you and you alone."
             - Chimamanda Adichie.

Nigeria is a country born of stories, misconceptions, and hardworking people. People who give virtually everything they have in hopes of greater things to come. Clearly, that wasn't living.

A country filled with religious people, who counted greatness by the number of children in a home. But all the same, she designed her own life. A life of love, strength, history, and family. It is a nation bound in freedom. A type of freedom that was tainted in so many rules - too many rules.

Anna turned her head, suddenly aware of her surrounding. She was in the place she had always been. The place that groomed her. She was home.

Her mother soon appeared in the veranda, a short dark-skinned woman in her late forties. Her face was small and square and her eyes were big, deep-set, and glared with anger.

It had always confused Anna. She never knew when her mother was in a good mood, angry or just normal because her eyes always looked like she was keeping something away. But she was never happy with her, Anna was certain of that.

Joyce, Anna's mother came into focus, her chin pointing at Anna. "What would you like with your soup, Anna?" she coughed. "Rice or garri?"

"Garri," Anna replied. Her eyes closed. She did not realize when the small woman disappeared.

It was a Friday night and Anna felt tired. Her eyes were flushed and a bit wider than usual. She got to her parent's place straight from work, like every other Friday night. It was the best she could do, though it wasn't in reality enough.

In the morning the mosquitoes buzzed, in the afternoon the flies took over, and then at night the mosquitoes continued, it was merely nature's rule.

There was nothing fancy about the green-painted house, everything seemed normal externally. But on the inside, there was the pain. Old pain that could still be felt by merely looking at it.

Anna had a rough childhood. She was the kid who tried so much to be impressive that she forgot to live her own life. She forgot to live for own herself. Her childhood gifted her an aloof and queer adulthood filled with insecurities.

Her mother, Joyce was the main reason she became the way she was. Her mother was her father and worst. Joyce was harsh and she tried to bring up Anna like the boy child she never had. The more Anna rebelled, the more hardened she became. And then when she was done with her, she would smile.

Joyce came out again, this time with a stool and a different wrapper tied about her small waist.

"So, how are you and how is work?" she managed to smile, sitting on the short stool.

Anna stared at her. There was that scary, fake smile again. "Fine," she duplicated the smile. She wasn't really up for a conversation. "How's daddy?"

"He's doing well," she coughed. "So am I."

Anna nodded.

There was silence and for some reason, Anna wished it could remain the way it was but then again it hurt her to see that she couldn't hold a conversation with her mother.

"Ani?" her mother called.

"Yes, mummy."

Ani, as her mother called her seemed to be the only sweet thing she ever said to her.

"I want to ask you a question."

"Okay," she said bracing herself for the worse.

"Now, I know that a lot of things are happening lately but when are you going to get married. Eh?"

Anna fanned her hand, trying to keep the mosquitoes at bay. She ignored her mother and focused her gaze on the ground. There was a building that sat opposite their house. When she raised her head, she saw a child staring at her. Before she could smile, the mother of the child closed her baby's eyes and took her in.

"Anna?"

"Yes?"

"So, you cannot answer a simple question? Eh?" her mother asked. "You're now deaf? I don't remember giving birth to a deaf or a dumb child," she declared.

"Mummy, please leave me alone," she buzzed.

"Okay, so you can talk?"

Anna sucked air into her lungs, she wasn't ready for the conversation. But then there were a lot of things she wasn't ready for.

"Your father and I aren't getting any younger, especially your father. I cannot come and die without any grandchild," Joyce spluttered. "You know how these things go."

"Mummy, I have other things to worry about. I have work and a home to manage."

Her mother scoffed. "Home, ke. If there isn't a family, it is merely a house."

"That's past. Civilization changed everything. Nobody wants to be wielded by a man anymore. Everyone is now trying to be their saviour," Anna preached. "So let me try to be mine."

Joyce extended her chin and bottom lip, biting on the upper one.

"Sometimes I think sending you to school was a mistake. Now you're talking more than I am, more than you should. Inserting grammars and all. Showing me how much of an illiterate I am."

She coughed again, this time spitting out a thick glob of spit. "It's okay," she added, determined to have the last word.

Anna grimaced, studying her. She didn't utter a word, she valued her ears too well. She turned away and clapped her hands again, cupping them slowly. She did kill something. The dead mosquito laid on her palm with a tiny smear of blood by the side. She made a face and wiped it on her stool.

"The hell with marriage," she cursed under her breath, bringing her hands to her black skirt and wiping them off again.

Her mother got up, went along the passage to the sitting room muttering indistinctly, then soon, she disappeared into the kitchen.

"Ani, food is ready," Joyce called out in her usual cold, flat voice.

Anna's eyes flicked across. She closed them tight and exhaled. "The hell with her too."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I know it's short but bear with me.

Still, thank you for reading another chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment on it, much love.

Shine!