Sola remained quiet even though it was her turn to speak. As each second ticked away, I adjusted my expectations from support to understanding.
“It’s not done. Bimpe, it’s simply not done. Blood is thicker than water . . .”
“But we are not related by blood—”
“Who said anything about his blood? I’m talking about Motunrayo, your younger sister!”
She hissed the way our mothers used to. The way we said we would never do.
“Have you?” Her voice was soft. Her eyes were hard.
“No o! What kind of person do you think I am?”
“I don’t know. Love makes people do stupid things.” She spat the word love as though it was bitter kola.
“Well, I haven’t!”
“Keep your legs closed and run as fast as you can.”
I tried to make her see that love could be sweet like chilled ripe mango slices. For two hours…
View original post 990 more words