When I bought a one way bus ticket from Uyo to Umuahia, I was not thinking of writing a story; I was thinking of finding home
The picture on the right is my family’s village house in Abayi, Abia State, 2015.
It once looked like the picture on the left, a well-maintained home in Abidjan,2014.
What do I remember most about our house in the village? Its color. Pink.
The Story Title:
The house that eats humans is born from the myth that the Ngwa people are cannibals.
This myth is embedded as a story within the story.
This time the house embodies the elements that can bite and chew up a person into unrecognizable bits.
It universalizes the thought that any place or home can become cannibalistic.
I am a city girl. Born and raised in Lagos. Still, my parents referred to the Eastern part of Nigeria as home.
“There is news from home.” “Papa wants to know when his grandchildren are coming home?” “Cook me something from home.”
Even though I considered Lagos to be home, I knew my roots encompassed more than the mega-city.
When I bought a one way bus ticket from Uyo to Umuahia, I was not thinking of writing a story; I was thinking of finding home.
I found home:
In the delicious vegetable soup my maternal aunt made for me the night I arrived Umuahia,
Swimming with the sinking fear in my stomach as I rode from Aba park to Isi-ala-ngwa junction alone,
Among venomous words my paternal aunt spoke when she swore not to attend my wedding if I married a Yoruba man,
Within the month-old silence that ensued between my mother and I when I informed her of my intentions,
From the accomplishment of revisiting memories from both of my parents’ villages in May, 2015.
Now, this story , the house that eats humans has been accepted for the Etisalat Flash Fiction 2016 prize.
Please read, vote, and share via this link.
Together, we can bring the prize home 🙂