The mother who chewed her tongue Pt2

Read pt1 here

“Ngoba,” she said at last, “why do you ask?” A bubble of soreness burst in her throat.
That was the only word she could muster.
“Ngoba?”
“Why do you ask” she answered us with a question. She gulped. Swallowing her voice.
Her very children were pulling clogged nets from her spirit. Awakening demons she had laid to rest. The day he passed, she had vowed to herself to remember him in secrecy. She quietly shelved their precious memories, chewed her tongue and said to herself, “hide this.”
******************chew chew***************************

end of Pt 1.

The mother who chewed her tongue Pt2

Flashback a few months ago…

Pelisa is driving us. We are going back home now.

Mama is looking out the front window taking pictures of the rows of faded grass sprawling over the winding land on the roadside. My fingertips gripping on the stick, pulling out my sucker from Zweli’s mouth. He clenches his front teeth making a g’dlhe sound. I raise my eyebrows, mildly agitated by his excessive suckling and the thought of his moisture-laden tongue surfing on my stock-sweet. I blink then look up and catch sight of ma as she reviews her amateur images. She’s hoping to find a colorful capture.

But..we already know there is none to be found.
Not only owing to her photo taking skills, but also ’cause no orange buttery sunset or thin silver twilight will suddenly stretch over the bland rows of grass to melt into the horizon of  her images.’ Continue reading “The mother who chewed her tongue Pt2”