THURSDAY CONVERSATIONS WITH THE HANDICAP

INTERVIEWER: 

How is your trip to THE ROOM?

INTERVIEWEE:

They pass by me. I know they gossip about me. They gape at me and miss their steps, like I’m the first handicap they’ll ever see. I continue to walk. I pay them no attention. It’s what they want, but I won’t give it; I can’t give it.

As I approach THE ROOM, they sloppily fall into groups of threes and fours. Their words are shrill in my head, but my world is silent.  

I enter into THE ROOM and find my mum lying on our ragged mat, looking rather vulnerable. How we both fell into this limbo remains a mystery. I move closer to her and gaze into her grief-stricken eyes, expressing agony at its peak. She mouths the words ‘I love you’ and I wish I can hear her, but I can’t. I’m deaf…

…they continue talking, but my world is silent.

Best friends to strangers: A letter to my best friend

(Set in the year 2000 and something)

I hissed just about the same time you did

I remembered the echoed “jinks” from our other friends

We knew each other so well, we soaked into each other

I knew what you’d say minutes before you did

I knew your take on any issue even before the discussion started

But now, I don’t know

Remember when we filled each other’s questionnaires

We got all the questions right

Remember when your grandpa died, I cried because you cried

That night, you fell asleep on my weary shoulder

I felt helpless just like you did.

At his funeral, remember how hard we danced, we had forgotten so quickly how sorrowful we had felt …

…because your mum had told us it was a thing of joy for ‘papa Nnukwu’ to have died at an “old ripe age”

I remember how we laughed at the way your mum’s lips curved when she said ‘old ripe age’;

How we teased her that it sounded like ‘oh dry page’

We couldn't do without seeing each other in a day

But now that haven’t seen you in a year, I don’t know

I remember my twentieth birthday, we had a blast

Remember how we laughed at the ‘karaoke girl’

Her voice sounded like a battered car engine

Remember the picture we took with our boyfriends, I’m holding it now

I remember the day after that night; permit me, the night after that day, June 28^th 1999

 when you were announced to be missing

I tore out every poster I saw declaring it.

I wished it was a dream, and I hoped that I’d wake up soon

I knew you were missing, and I didn't need a sheet of paper to remind me of that.

I waited 365 days saying a prayer for you each one of them.

I remember yesterday when I heard you had been found, my joy knew no bounds

I waited anxiously

And now that you are back, I don’t know