04 Jul Mami-Wọta Made My Hair [IV]
We left the house and the compound. Somehow, my mother had contrived to ensure that our departure did not clash with the arrival of my grandmother and seven aunties.
My mother did not hurry me but, in some way, I sensed she didn’t want me dawdling. I got the feeling that today was not one of those days I was allowed to inspect lizards sunning themselves on a rock, kick at oddly-shaped pebbles, or follow the trail of the vicious, red soldier ants. No. Somehow, I sensed that my mother needed me to keep her pace as much as my chubby little legs could carry me. However, my mother also knew that this journey, arduous enough for an adult, would be a killer for a child so she brought her cart along. It wasn’t a regular cart like the ones you saw drawn by the villagers who preferred them to wheel barrows, it was a labour of love…
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