JIDEThe structure of the restaurant was almost ready. Ivory had no idea that we had begun construction. We wanted it to be a surprise when she got discharged. The restaurant was situated in the farm compound by a corner in the courtyard. I had suggested that its location be in the city and not in a remote area like the farm. But Ivory was of the thoughts that locating it in the farm would expose the farm more to the public, making us gain customers. She was so sure that a lot of people from the city would love to come to the serene environment of the farm to have our wonderful African dishes, especially when she was our public figure. We were decorating the interior at the moment. I was hanging Ivory's finished paintings at strategic spots on the bamboo walls. Tumpale and some other girls took care of the floor and ceiling designs while Kofi and other guys arranged the bar. I was to handle the sitting arrangements when I was done with the paintings. We vibed to African hip hop mus

IVORY Why and how? I had been pondering.I had not been able to sleep since last night after that revelation was made. Aunt Joan? Like Aunt the fuck Joan? Damn! I definitely did not see that coming. I got back home last night, totally ignoring her and finding my way to the the confinement of my room. The lawyer advised that I do not confront her. But that was making me go crazy.I crazily paced my room, my fingers raking through my hair wildly. I needed to see the look of horror on her face when she sees she does not fool me anymore. I needed answers, answers I would not get if I did not confront her. My lips itched for a smoke. My fingers itched to paint. I had no residue paint supplies here at home; Grandma had discarded them all. But I had residue cancer sticks in my drawer. I checked my drawers and found them. Quickly lighting one, I took a long drag; a long drag of relief, a long drag of immediate and temporary peace. Letting the smoke settle in my insides a bit longer, I

MIRAThe next day, I took a cab at the bus stop after walking the path away from the farm. It was lights out and I was supposed to be in bed but here I was, on my way to the hospital with the finished painting of beloved Mother.I felt so bad and guilty for hating on her when all she did was love both me and Father. I wondered the emotional and psychological trauma she must have gone through because of Grandma's stoic attitude. Mother sacrificed her health for Father. Did Grandma actually think anyone would accept to marry Father with all his riches if they found out he was infected with HIV? Grandma really did not know the blessing she has had.I got down the bus and stalked into the hospital building. Getting to Ward 5B, I checked into the hospital register and found my way to Room 11. She was on a wheelchair by the window, watching the stars. I watched her frail form. The wrinkled skin shook feverishly next to the chair. Her hair ridden head looked ragged and unkempt. "Are you go

IVORYMy brain cells delved into overdrive as I stared at him wide-eyed. I wondered if he could hear the erratic thumping of my chest. My blood sang in my veins and I felt strangely warm. Jide was fucking kissing me. Oh my gosh! Jide was fucking kissing me. And oh it tasted so good. His lips were like soft pillows and tasted of melted candy. I loved the tingles that spread through my body and I did not want them to stop. I did not want him to stop. And yet he did. His lips froze and his eyes found mine. They held uncertainty and dread. Uncertainty that he had acted without thinking; dread that he had done something wrong.'Oh no no. I loved it,' I wanted to say. 'Do not stop,' my subconscious screamed. But my throat constricted as bubbles lodged in it, impairing my speech. I frowned at the distance he put between us, his eyes looking every other place but at me. He cleared his throat to speak. "Y...you do not like it. I am so sorry coming unto you like that. I was not sure what

40IVORYI took a bus to Bexley and alighted at the Stone Culturist's bus stop. This would be the first time I was coming here without my personal ride. The workers gawked at my unusual casual clothes but I had always been one who cared less. I made my way to my office where Aunt Joan was inhabiting for now. My receptionist scowled at my entrance at first but plastered a fake smile when I approached her and she recognized me. "Good evening, Miss Stone," she greeted. I smiled at her genuinely and she was taken aback, "Good evening Tressa. How are you?""I...I...am...You know my name?" She finally stumbled out. I smiled. "Yes. It is on your ID."She blushed and looked down at the company's ID pinned to her shirt. I knocked on the door once and opened it. Aunt Joan was on the phone. She gestured for me to sit before ending the call and flashing me a warm smile. "How are you, Ivory?" She asked. I shrugged. "I am fine.""I see the farm treats you well," she stood and walked to my sid