A Tale of Amara III

A TALE OF AMARA III

Somehow, her sisters had convinced Kosi that she and Kene had a

forbidden romance going on. Somehow, they’d convinced themselves

and Kosi that she was going to ruin any relationship or marriage so

long as she stayed around Kene. Given the choice, Kene chose his

sister. The tale was the personification of incredulity. Never, not once,

had she done anything untoward with her sisters’ lovers. She never

fancied them or wanted them in any way. Her brother, while she

would never admit her crush on him to anyone, was not an object of

her fantasies. Her sisters were way out of line with that accusation.

Angered and embittered she turned away from the women who would

accuse her for man’s fall from Eden if given the chance and marched

straight to their mother.

Evelyn Utaba was livid. Her well aged face, with nary a wrinkle, was

hidden beneath a mask of distaste at the topic of her daughters’

conversations.

“What kind of rubbish discussion is that? How could you girls be

talking about something so wrong and evil?” her graceful shoulders

shook in anger. They had been raised better than that. She gave them

a stern talking to and sent the elder two on their way while Amara

stayed behind to share private words with her mother.

“Mommy, what do I do about Chux?” she asked, hoping to reap from

the bounty of knowledge Evelyn’s advanced years could offer her.

“Have yopu tried calling him?”

“Yes, he’s not picking my calls, neither is he returning them”.

“Have you been to his apartment?”

“If I go without being invited, with the way things are, he might

embarrass me and i don’t want anything of the sort to happen”

“Clever girl”, said Evelyn. She stroked Amara’s hair as her youngest

offspring shuddered and cried in her arms.

“Nwa m o!” she cooed soothingly, “Ebezina o!”. Amara held on tightly

to her mother, drawing strength and solace from the woman who

single-handedly raised three head strong children and somehow

managed to make them into responsible members of the community.

If there was anyone who could see her through her pains, it was her

mother.

“It’s ok, i know it’s not your fault”, Evelyn said as she wiped her

daughter’s face. “My beautiful daughter”, she kissed Amara on the

forehead as she said, “Who can blame you? It’s not your fault that

they all love you”.

“What?!” Amara jerked out of her mother’s embrace. Whatever did

she mean by that?

“It’s alright baby. I understand. I used to resent you for what you did

to me but I understand now that it was never your intention”.

Amara backed away from Evelyn. “What do you mean?”

“They all love you child. Your Chux, Your sisters’ boyfriends, your

brother, even your father. They all love you, they all want you”. Evelyn

spoke to her daughter like an adult would to a child about the circle of

life and death.

“What are you talking about?” Amara was officially clueless and her

face told as much.

“Oh! My sweet, naive child. Why do you think they all wanted to make

you happy? Why do you think they all gave you those trinkets and

clothes and shoes? Why do you think they called you so much?”

Evelyn stood from her perch on the couch and walked to the bedside

fridge to pour herself a glass of Cranberry and Vodka. A stunned

Amara sat speechless, staring at the woman she had called mother all

her life. Somehow she seemed alien now, what with the strange words

pour out of her mouth.

“They all want you. They want something from you. They want to own

you. I’m just thankful you are wise enough to control yourself,

otherwise this would’ve been a very different conversation”.

Evelyn went on to tell the quiet Amara that her father had been

sneaking off to her room at night, all those years ago, to admire her

blossoming beauty. How she (Amara) had stolen her husband from

her, not intentionally, but still it was an insult she could not live with.

An insult that was compounded by Amara’s refusal to leave the house

along with her siblings. Evelyn spilled her guts that night. The more

she drank, the more she spoke, and she spoke frankly. She admitted

that she still resented Amara, but she had learned to live with it. She

confessed that she relished all those tales Amara had shared with her

sisters about her suffering at the hands of their father. How she had

encouraged her sisters to antagonize and torment her. She praised her

ex-husband’s control for not having had his way with his daughter.

She went on for hours. Amara stayed quiet, all she did was listen. As

she walked backed to her father’s house that night, Amara felt hollow

and empty. Something was broken in her, and she knew it. Her mother

and sisters had accused of being something akin to a succubus. They

were wrong, she’d been the best possible daughter or sister to then

as she could be, and they made her life horrible for all her worries.

She decided, as she prepared dinner for her father that night, that if

she was going to get crucified for atrocities she did not commit, she

might as well go ahead and commit those crimes.

In the weeks that followed, Amara sweet-talked and flirted almost

unabashedly with the men in her life. Her father and recently married

brother were the easiest to conquer. While she did not sleep with

them, she made them wish they could. As a result, all she ever

wanted was hers to get so long as she stayed within the confines of

reason. Her sisters’ lovers on the other hand were reduced to

shivering molasses in her hands. She pulled their strings this way and

that until they had little interest in her sisters. Only then did she let

them taste of the fruit of her loins.

* * *

Amara made her way to MMII in her brother’s car. He still looked

good looking and was every bit as charming as ever. She loved him to

bits and if he wasn’t her sibling, she’d drag him to the nearest hotel

and prove said love. He stood and fought valiantly when her sisters

and mother tried to protest the will that was read to them. That any of

them was surprised that she was the chief beneficiary of his will and

custodian of his estate which was to be passed on to her 1 st son

upon his 25th birthday, was a surprise to her. Apparently, her brother

had received his bit long before their father passed and his only

stipulation was that Kene protect Amara from the wrath of the rest of

the family. That he did valiantly.

He sat by her at departure, making small talk and laughing like kids

until her flight was called.

“You will come back as soon as you can, wont you?” he asked teary

eyed and sad.

“I promise that you will be the first person to know when i decide to

come back”

“I’ll miss you, you little shit”, he said, enveloping her in his arms.

“I know, I’ll miss you too big brother”.

On a whim, Amara ended the hug and pulled Kene into a kiss that no

sister had any right to give her brother. Kene did not fight the kiss, if

anything, he gave as much as he got.

Kene was still breathless when he got to his car. He wondered what

he did that earned him that kiss, he need to know so that he may

keep doing it.

The End.