The Sickle Curse

              "Hey, Nawa o, wonders will never end. Have you heard?!" She screams at the top her voice, punishing the ground as she runs towards the house of her long-time friend. The child on her back is forced to cling for his dear life as his mother charges like an angry elephant. She halts suddenly and continues shouting and clapping with reckless abandon.
              "Mama Segun come outside o, gist dey. I told you that family was cursed didn't I?"
              "What is it? Eh? What has happened that you won't let me have peace this evening?" Mama Segun reluctantly proceeds from her house. Her thin legs and pinched accentuation are a direct contrast to the thick richness that is her friend - Mama Dapo.
              "I told you they are cursed, that family! It's why I never sell or buy from them so they don't transfer their ancestral curse to me. Can you imagine, I was walking by the house when I overheard them weeping...." she spits out on the floor.
Mama Segun replies warily "Weeping? Again? Who is it this time?"
              "Their one year old baby and Eldest son."
              "Ahh! Two children in one day? The gods forbid!"
The conversation goes on and on, they only pause at intervals to snap a finger over their heads and spit out, hoping that the evil doesn't befall their families too. All I can do is watch through this window. They're at the middle of the street, shouting so that Papa, Mama and everyone else would hear them. Soon, a small crowd forms and they're all glancing over at my house. I wish it was love in their eyes, or at least pity, but no - It's Hate. A kind of hatred I'm too young to understand. The kind I hope I'll never understand.
I turn to watch my parents. They don't care what's going on outside - or they act so. The voices don't matter but they wept continously. The tears flow with a smoothness I envy, they fall to the ground and get lost. They are supposed to be the embodiment of our pain, at least that's what Mama says, but they don't seem so. If anything, the drops seem genuinely happy as they roll off their cheeks and leap to the floor in ecstasy. A kind of ecstasy I don't understand.
Watching the teardrops makes me want to smile but my eyes turn to my brothers  - Seun and Tayo - and some tears fall from my cheeks too. I only knew Tayo for a year. My precious Seun was always there, in between his crises and all the pain, he was there. This all hurts; my eyes are tired and my mind is weak. I wish I understood better. Everybody says my parents are cursed, that's why no-one would trade with us. It's why Papa was away at the farm, trying to get things for supper while Mama struggled between Seun and Tayo. I wish Chief would've helped. His van would have gotten them to the hospital in time. Maybe, just maybe they might've been saved - but he couldn't. He dare not bring a curse upon himself so he thrust my mother out like a slave.

Victory Okoyomoh, pen name - Victory Wrights is an Optometry Student at the University of Benin. A writer,  both prose and poetry, his works have been published in some anthologies and other websites.  He also run an instagram poetry account - @victory_wrights 

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