The Marrying of ZIM

7. The weekend.

I think I got it covered .. I'll give my weekdays to Kwashie and my weekends to CJ. That's the dumbest thought I've ever had in my 18 years of life, I don't think the time I tried to runaway with the clothes on my back and $50 to my name was this dumb. I sat up in the bed staring around the guest bedroom, it felt nice in here. Sorta felt like home. It was after 7, I never slept in when I wasn't home. I got up to brush my teeth and applied a face mask going back to sit on the bed scrolling through social media. A knock sounding at the door.

"Come in," I said. I sat up on the bed waiting to greet the person.

"Good mor-" Kwashie started but let out a small shriek when he saw my face.

"Get used to it, fiancé" I said.

"I apologize, I was taken aback by your.... beauty that's all." He said.

"Bro, negroes get smacked for less so watch your vocabulary." I said jumping off the bed.

"Is that a slavery reference?" He asked. He held onto his chin as if lost in thought.

"No," I said doing a mental facepalm.

"Then why would you use the word negro?"

"It's a black people thing.. to use the word nigger or nigga or negro." I tried to make it sound better but I wasn't so sure anymore.

"Well my ancestors weren't slaves, the people from the Caribbean and wherever else they were shipped to were slaves. The only reason I am against it is because it drained our continent of its human resources leaving us in poverty and civil warfare." He said. He had begun pacing the room with his hands held tightly behind his back. What have I gotten myself into?

"In fact, slavery affected us in a larger scale because of the significant loss of our people. When slaves got too expensive to import they tried to breed them for themselves. Black with black and white with black, though sometimes it wasn't always consensual but it kept the generations flowing and rooted in oppression and even though they weren't shipping out people from my country anymore the damage was too far passed the point of return. This is why your skin color and others which are lighter than mine are present these days. It doesn't exempt you from being bounded by a skin color of oppression and inhumanity therefore I have come to the conclusion that you shall not use that term around me nor my family. Which means that in the future you should instill it in our children to not conform to society and use such a derogative term." He said. He had stopped pacing and was staring down at me with a pointing glare. I suddenly felt bad for the amount of times I said nigger and passed it off as okay because of my skin tone but I guess he was right.

"I don't want children," I said.

"Is that the only thing you heard?" He asked.

No, but......

"I'm not carrying anything inside me." I said again maintaining his stare.

"There will be no compromise on that," he hissed.

He walked up towards me and grabbed my arm, his eyes were cold and the dark brown seemed almost nonexistent. I shook my arm free from his grasp and was about to push him when he held onto my shoulders and shook me.

"What the fuck is your problem?" I asked.

"You. You are my problem," his voice rose to a pitch I've never heard before.

"What have I done? All I've ever done was be black and existed." I lifted both arms and brought my elbows down onto his arms to break free from the hold. Thanks self defense class.

He started cursing in Asante Twi, I understood everything he said but I wasn't going to respond. Did the word negro flip a switch in him?

"Why are you so heated?" I asked him back in his native tongue.