‘On Black Sisters Street’ - electric toothbrush discount

The World By CHIKA unigweiling L 29,201 1MAY 12,200 6The is exactly what it should be.
No more, absolutely no less.
She got the love of a good man. A house.
Her own money.
Still fresh, the healthiest shade of green-
At the thought of it, she got excited and made a rush of buzz.
The streets she has traveled before seem to have some new ideas.
While singing, she savored the concept of a new beginning, thinking about how much her life is changing: Luc. Money. A house.
She has become someone else.
She recalled the words in the biology class and told herself to "deform ".
Give up the life that no longer suits her.
What she does not know is that in just a few hours she will find out how absolute the transition is.
Sisi navigate at Keyserlei, imagining everything she can buy with her own brand --new wealth.
It will make her forget, and even from those memories that do not allow silence, let her shout in her sleep, so that she will wake up restless and want to cry.
Now, the shop sparkled and cried out to her, and she replied, touching what she liked, marveling at the fragments of freedom, that she was ecstatic and shining around, this made her more convinced than ever that the prophecy was undoubtedly true.
This is a real epiphany.
Not the one she ate on a vingerlingstrat on a Wednesday night.
That's fake. epiphany.
She knows now.
She was hungry, standing between Panos and Ekxi, hesitating on Keyserlei.
Her new life smiled at her and was kind and lush.
It pushed her to Ekxi, one notch higher than Panos.
She went in and bought a sandwich with lettuce overflowing, crumpled and moist.
With a thick bottle of fruit cocktail.
She sat at a table outside with shopping bags at her feet;
The bag flickers in the breeze, which is evidence of her release from the stingy past.
What should she get?
Maybe a gift for Luc.
The curtains in his undoorless room.
Imagine a room without a door! Ha!
The architect who designed the house had a lot of interest in space and light, because Luc had come out of the trough when he bought the house, he was sure that space and light were what he needed.
No door bothered him at all.
When he showed her around the house, Sisi told him: "There must be a door to the room . ".
"Or curtains, at least!
Luc did not respond.
Silence is the default. Certainly.
Curtains of frenetic design with triangles and squares found in Hema, striking purple and white splashes onto Cocoa Brown.
She imagined what other women would say to Luc's undoorless bedroom.
She imagined their incredible laughter.
This is enough to fuel the guilt she is trying to stop.
She did not abandon them. Had she? She had just . . . well, moved on.
Of course she has that right.
However, she still wants to know: what are they doing now?
When will they notice she's gone?
In a house in zwartezusterstrat, the woman the Sisi is considering --
Emma, Joyce and Effie
Just then, I was preparing to work, to get in and out of the bathroom, to inflate the walls with their expectations: they would do a good job tonight;
There will be many people coming;
They won't ask too much.
More importantly, they will be generous.
"Who's my mascara? Where's my [expletive]mascara?
Ama shouted and emptied a make-up bag on the tile floor.
Joyce also filled a denim luggage bag with deodorant, beach towels, a duster and her smiling face, nicknamed Sisi.
Smiley is a lubricant gel packed in plastic clear
Cross the teddy bear with an orange cone hat and a bright smile;
It could be a bottle of glue for the child.
She blocked her mother's face, looked at her smiling face, rounded her lips and formed a name that was not Joyce. "Where's Sisi? " she asked.
"I haven't seen her.
"Maybe she won't leave," said Effie, putting an electric toothbrush in her toilet bag.
There is a picture in the inside pocket of the bag, a boy wearing a baseball cap.
On the back of the photo is the initials L. I.
The photo is wrinkled and the gloss is worn out, but it is easy to see when it is first sent to her (
Under the shine that highlights the broad forehead)
The boy is very similar to her appearance.
The son's opinion on his mother.
She took this picture everywhere.
They have a little more time before they have to leave, but they like to get ready early.
Some things can't be rushed.
Looks good.
They didn't want to wake up half asleep at work and forget half of their gear.
"Why did West leave so early? " Joyce asked. "Who knows?
Ama replied that her hand quickly crossed her neck as if to assure herself that the gold chain she had been wearing was still there.
"All of this West, are you a lover?
Maybe she went for a walk.
Ama laughed and cut her eyes open to Brush Mascara.
Sisi went out at least twice a week alone and refused when the company was offered.
No one knows where she went except that she sometimes brings a box of chocolates and a few bags of Japanese fans along with embroidered lace, fridge magnets and T-
Shirt with Belgian beer logo.
"Gift", she muttered angrily when Joyce asked who she used to be . .
Joyce is out of the bathroom.
She had hoped Sisi would comb her hair.
Between perm and braids, her hair is a wilderness that will not be subdued.
Neither Ama nor Efe will knit.
There is nothing now, and she must put it in a loaf of bread, hoping that the lady will not notice that the bread is an island in the middle of her head, surrounded by disobedient hair scattered around.
If the Sisi does not leave, she will ask the lady to answer if she is just late.
For the sake of Sisi, Joyce hopes she will come back on time.
How can someone forget what the lady did to Efe the night she was late for work?
There is nothing to forgive her behavior, said the lady.
Not even the fact that her grandmother died.
Advertising is not the death of every win party.
But if the deceased is the old man and the beloved, then the party is very proper.
The grandmother of Efe is two.
Since she is too far away from the funeral, she can't attend the funeral herself. The best thing to do next, the thing to expect, is a big party.
In addition, nothing can beat a good party in the bleak November.
Effie didn't tell his wife about the death.
Or part of the party.
No one told the lady anything.
If she was invited, she would not attend anyway.
The girls started washing dishes in the kitchen the day before.
West's laughter is the loudest, rising and drowning from the voices of other women.
She slapped her thighs with a wet kitchen towel, and the power of laughter made her close her eyes.
"Tell me, Effie, does your aunt really believe her husband? ""Yes. She did.
He told her that she could not go abroad with him because the British embassy needed her GCSE grades before giving her a visa.
Only in this way can he stop her from traveling with him.
Four wives, she wants him to pick her on top of the others?
She's not even the chief wife. Imagine!
Women are just crazy!
"Your uncle handled it very well.
Sometimes it's easier to lie to people.
"It saves you a lot of trouble and time," Joyce said . " She put her freshly dried glass in the cupboard above her head.
"Men are assholes," said Ama . ".
"Ama, light.
Since when is this story about men being assholes?
Everything must be so serious to you;
You know how to ruin a good day.
You just have to work hard for nothing!
"Sisi dried a plate and checked if it had stains and did not find it, put it on the working surface next to the sink.
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Emma turned to Sisi and hissed.
"Move the plate over, abeg.
If you leave them there, they will only get wet again.
Put them away when you do it?
She hissed again and went to the kitchen sink to scrub the pot.
"How do you cook rice, West?
I can't get it [expletive]pot clean!
"Ama, I don't know what makes it too much for you, but I don't want any part.
No matter who sent you, I beg you, tell them you didn't see me. ""[Expletive]. Why don't you [expletive]
In one of your long walks?
"The Sound of Ama is a storm building.
Advertising is trying to calm the storm.
"Girls, Girls, it's a good day.
Let you not destroy!
She hopes it won't rain.
November was a beautiful day when the leaves turned into eggplant.
Under a mild autumn and a sky that did not herald rain, purple, yellow and white.
A small miracle of the year.
"Like a nice photo, see de day and una wan spoil am?
"No one destroys anything.
Anyway, I'm done.
Ama took out the sparkling jars now, walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.
She flooded the room with a loud twang bam.
She lit a cigarette and began to dance.
Efe, with a kitchen towel on her head, sighed and followed her into the living room.
"I know you're not ready for the party, Ama.
Oh, shake the loot, girl!
Just like your mom taught you! ""Oh, shut it!
What does my mom have to do with me dancing?
The Ama left Efe and the cross on the neck sparkled.
Her anger seemed to burst. Exaggerated.
But Efe let it go.
There are other things in her head.
Party first.
The Moroccan man who promised to buy a box of her beer at a discount just called to say that his contact had not passed.
Now, these drinks are much more expensive than she has on her budget.
The girls promised to help her with the food, but with the mood of Ama, she might have lost her hands.
Everything has to go as planned today.
Her grandmother's funeral had to be talked about over the next few months.
That's how she loves this woman.
They don't even matter.
She wants a party that lasts all night.
This will cause trouble to her and her wife.
The party was so successful that Efe could not leave until nearly midnight.
The Lady's anger is manifested in a laughter that is dry like a cough and a sneer, "Ah, so you make enough money to waltz to work at any time?
"She refused to let Efe use her booth for a week.
Not making money in a week is enough for anyone not to read a lady's bad book.
Still, Iya Ijebu was given a party worth attending.
"She's not even my real grandmother," Efe told these women when she told them about her death.
"I 've been calling her grandma, but she's just a woman who lives near our house.
On Sunday, she asked me to moi-moi.
When I was in elementary school, if my mom was not at home, she would make lunch for me and my brother.
This woman is very kind to us.
Which grandmother passed that?
Goodbye, Grandma. Rest in peace.
"What killed her? " Joyce asked.
Even Effie doesn't know how this woman died.
The news of her death spread between "buy me a Motorola phone" and "Eugene dad wants to know how easy it is to ship cars from there to here.
"Two weeks ago, a distant" Iya Ijebu died, "walking from a telephone booth in Lagos to a glass line along a weak crack --
A seat in a Pakistani internet/telephone cafe in Antwerp.
Is she dead? Iya Ijebu? Osalobua!
What killed her?
"A sound big enough to reach the other end.
She tried to pull her sister back to the news she had just posted. "How? What happened? ""What?
I can't hear you.
Did you hear what I said about Motorola?
"Then the line has already whined and died, and Efe has organized a party frantically.
She did not know the details of the death, but at the party she would distribute photocopies of the deceased: a woman with a huge headscarf, looking solemn and dead, the background is the palm trees frantically painted on the props behind her.
It will be announced that she died of a "sudden" illness at the age of 70. five (
This is an estimate;
Who really cares about the exact age? ).
Her granddaughter Efe "thanked God for making her a wonderful life ".
"Summer will be a better choice, and its temperament is more suitable for the feast, but in the dull November, the party is a necessary condition to cheer it up.
She has a lot to worry about. What to cook. What to play. Who to have.
There will be many Ghanaians;
These people are everywhere.
Needless to say, of course, Nigerians.
A group of East Africans
Kenyans ate samosa, without traditional clothes, complaining about the pepper in Nigerian food, not real African food.
Three Ugandan women she knew accidentally spoke their words, and her words were black and long.
The only Zimbabweans she knew, a woman who was shuffling when dancing.
These guests will generate other guests and the guest list will be increased to infinity, so she is happy that she has the vision to rent a huge abandoned warehouse near the central station, not the parish hall of the church she rented last year to celebrate her birthday.
Here she has plenty of room to worry about the number of people that will eventually appear.
Unlike the floor in the parish hall, at the end of the party she had to make sure it was spotless and the place had no such obligation.
In some places the tiles fall off and reveal the dark earth like half
Peeling and scabs on old wounds
Against the Wall are high metal shelves, most of which have been corroded.
Shelves can easily stack a box of beer and cool food, so Efe does not need to borrow a table.
There is a white picnic chair in front of the shelf.
The middle space provides ample dance rooms. Continues. . .
From "Black Sister Street" by Chika Unigwe.
Chika Unigwe Copyright 2011.
Excerpts from the Random House permit.
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