Chapter 19
Home Is A Person
not a place
I'DONLYbeenbackhome in Jacksonville for a day and a half and I was already losing my mind. My aunties and uncles had been at my house the entire day in preparation for tomorrow's dinner, we obviously don't celebrate thanksgiving in Kenya but we wanted to have a special family dinner anyways. I couldn't stand the constant judging and prodding of intrusive questions likewhen are you getting marriedandwhy would your parents let you pick such a dead-end career? It was beyond exhausting and to make matters worse my mother was entertaining it.
I was helping my aunty Gertrude out with making the stuffing for the chicken and I was so close to telling her to shut up and mind her own business.
"You are too skinny darling, all flesh, and bones, good men these days want women who have some meat on them." Aunty Gertrude tisked looking my body up and down,
"My body doesn't exist to please the male gaze," I assured her and my mother shot me a warning glare,
"You talk too much for a lady, be like your cousin Jemimah she's a very obedient, nice and quiet girl." Mama sneered and I swallowed my words,
"Sorry, aunty," I mumbled reluctantly, and mama smiled at my gesture.
I hated playing pretend, I hated playing a character whenever my family was around. It was like I was showing them this image of someone who I wasn't, this image of the perfect, obedient and docile African girl.
I hated pushing that narrative forward because African women were nothing of the sort; what we are is strong, emotionally intelligent, and unwaveringly courageous.
"You're lucky I don't tell your aunties about that white man I discovered you with, it would be a disgrace." Mama scoffed under her breath chopping up some vibrant orange carrots, "Why can't you just make your family proud and let us find you a decent Kenyan man?"
"Enough mama." I dismissed holding her gaze because I'd heard enough of her thoughts on my being with someone outside my race.
"Indeed enough,enoughof you and him." She persisted and I washed my hands before heading upstairs to my room with my little brother Jaadi.
Apparently, he'd developed a crush on another Kenyan girl in his class called Sula and he wanted to hold hands with her at recess but he was scared she wouldn't like him that way. I remembered simpler times when your worst problems were what your crush thought of you and not that your mom— the person who was supposed to love you unconditionally and care about you more than anything would be taking you away from your dreams and out of the arms of the man you cared for.
"She's got the prettiest hair and it smells like strawberries!" Jaadi gushed plopping himself down on the bean bag chair in the corner of my room,
It was odd to me how my room went untouched for three months, Jaadi said that mama would come in here and clean every nook and cranny and sometimes spent hours on end sorting out my old clothes. I knew some part of her cared for me, just as I'd said-notenough.
"She sounds lovely, you should ask her about herself before you hold her hand, that way she'll be more comfortable and feel like she knows you," I explained giving him a little insight into the mind of a ten-year-old girl who's probably currently being fed tales of beauties and beasts, princesses and frogs and pumpkin carriages.
"I'll try, I hope she likes me." He said, fixing his glasses,
Jaadi looked a lot like me and we were similar in many ways and had always shared a connection. I wanted a little brother really badly when I was little and when he was born I swore on everything that I'd be there for him in the way that no one in this house was ever really there for me. I made sure he had healthy ways to deal with his feelings and felt comfortable talking to me about things. But it was hard to deny that one; I'd been gone three whole months and two; he was growing up, and so was I.
"If she's worth it, she'll like you for you and that'll be enough," I assured him and he smiled, just then my computer pinged and I turned my desk chair to read the notification, it read;
TO:Armani Nnandi
FROM: River Kennedy
SUBJECT: Hope you’re still alive
I hope that you’ve recovered well enough from the jet lag, have you gotten used to the time difference? I’d call, but I don’t know if you’re awake or with family as of now. I am at my parents’ house in Marseilles for the holiday and ma mère keeps asking if I’m okay– I actually am for the first time and yeah um, I don’t know how to tell her anything without her smothering me.
I really do hope you’re OK.
My heart leapt at the message and I was surprised he'd taken the time to message me, it was nice to know that he cared.
TO:River Kennedy
FROM:Armani Nnandi
SUBJECT: The Vampire Conspiracy
