NEGRITUDE
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Zuletzt aktualisiert Mo., Feb. 24, 2020
Stranded in a strange land, with no friends or family, in a place where the rules he grew up with no longer apply, Koby struggles to come to terms with his current niche in life as a slave- there's just one little problem, you see, he isn't the kind to just bend over and let other people decide for him.
Negritude is a story of resistance and resilience, hope and tragedy, death and life.
Do enjoy.
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Divided
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(Excuse any typos or errors) NOT GOOD AT DESCRIPTIONS...JUST READ 💗💗Abgeschlossene Geschichte
I was three days old the first time I saw Father Polycarp Okeke's hands shake. He was pouring holy water over my head. A drop fell into my eyes before the prayer began. I remember the cold. I remember his eyes refusing to meet mine. I remember my mother laughing in the front pew and a nun weeping at the back. I did not understand, at three days old, why a priest trembles over a baby. I understand now. I am eighteen years old. I have died three times. And tonight, I am walking up the hill to St. Anthony's Mission to ask Father Polycarp Okeke a question he has been waiting eighteen years for me to ask. But memory is a door that swings both ways. The letter waiting on my pillow when I came home this morning was written in my own handwriting, in handwriting that has been dead since 1962, and it says four words I cannot stop reading: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨.
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