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‘Bring Kayita home; we’ll see when you get here,’ he said finally.
As soon as she saw Kayita’s family at Entebbe Airport, Nnam knew that
something was wrong. They were not the brothers she had met before
and they were unfriendly. When she asked her family where Kayita’s
real family was they said, ‘That’s the real family.’
Nnam scratched her chin for a long time. There were echoes in her
ears.
When the coffin was released from customs, Kayita’s family took it,
loaded it on a van they had brought and drove off.
Nnam was mouth-open shocked.
‘Do they think I killed him? I have the post-mortem documents.’
‘Post-mortem, who cares?’
‘Perhaps he was ashamed of his family,’ Nnam was beginning to blame
her father’s snobbery. ‘Perhaps they think we’re snobs.’
She got into one of her family’s cars to drive after Kayita’s brothers.
‘No, not snobbery,’ Meya, Nnam’s oldest brother said quietly. Then he
turned to Nnam who sat in the back seat and said, ‘I think you need to
be strong Nnameya.’
Instead of asking what do you mean, Nnam twisted her mouth and
clenched her teeth as if anticipating a blow.
LE PORTRAIT MAGAZINE
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