Today, my mother said, “We need to start working on our relationships with people. We suck at it.”

“I know.” I replied.

I’ve known for a while. I’ve had many sleepless nights because of that. The only thing is, I am probably the only one who knows about this (well, and God cause we stayed up together) because I always feel the need to put up a ‘hard girl’ front.

Though I know that it’s unnecessary and that people won’t stop respecting you because you cried or showed emotion. It’s hard anyway. My early experiences proved otherwise, you see. So it’s kinda hard explaining to my brain that they were wrong so our conclusion is flawed. But we’re working on it.

I know we’re working on it because last year I cried in an airport, at the boarding gate. Like, tears-rolling-down-my-cheeks cried. This wasn’t my first time flying. It wasn’t even my most overwhelming trip.

Come to think of it, it was probably the easiest trip I’ve ever had because this time, I knew I’d be back in a month. Three, tops! Yet, there I was, bawling my eyes out (because I didn’t get to say goodbye to my big brother).

The fact that I am even admitting this very embarrassing incident is a big deal, to be honest. “I have a reputation to uphold.” #streetcred

But I did bawl my eyes out. I’d called him to say bye. He said, “I thought you’d be gone by now.”

‘No, not yet,’ I mumbled. ‘Why did you come though? You said I’d see you before I left.’

“I know. I didn’t close my meeting early so when I was done I thought you’d already left.”

‘But you could’ve called me.’

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Then I heard some noises.

‘Are you home?’

Pause.

“No… I… am at Achimota.”

‘Achimota. Cool.’

Then the first tear appeared.

Context: His meeting was at Spintex. The airport is kinda between Spintex and Achimota if you go left instead of right. The girl he was seeing lived at Achimota.

What happened to bros before hoes?!

He knew what I was thinking. Of course he knew. So he repeated,

“I thought you’d left.”

So I repeated, ‘You could’ve called.’

“I’m sorry.”

Silence.

“Are you crying?”

Pause. ‘No.’ But my voice betrayed me. Bloody cracks.

“I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

‘It’s okay.’

“Nana, I am sorry.”

‘It’s okay. I have to go now. We’re boarding.’ We weren’t.

“Okay. I love you.”

‘I love you too.’

Then Nana wept.

Dr Nyameba 💜

3 thoughts on “Then Nana Wept

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