If you ask Olileanya to tell you why
she always observe her morning
devotions like she’d asphyxiate if she
didn’t, she will laugh, those throaty
laughter that come out forced and
wicked. Her face would begin to glow
with bitterness after the laughter dries
out. She will drag herself out of bed
after emptying her chest of a deep sigh
as if to say the night had cheated her
by being short; not enough for a good
sleep after the previous night’s
bedroom gymnastics.
She will kiss you and whisper I love
you into your ears, her eyes will be
half closed like one on the cusp of a
sneeze. She will disappear into the
kitchen and appear with a breakfast of
bread and fried eggs and tea on a
white tray that is shaped like love with
an inscription love lives here boldly
written in red ink below it. She will
stare into the cloud with tear-strained
eyes and begin to tell you.
***
It started in her father’s mansion
where Ogechi lived as a maid. Ogechi
was a fervent Christian who always
sang Christian songs while she
worked; sweeping, cleaning, washing,
and cooking. She started to bathe
Olileanya when her parents began to
travel outside the country almost every
week. Ogechi asked Olileanya, one
night after she turned ten, in the
bathroom if she knew she was a
woman now. Olileanya flinched, her
eyes bright with confusion.
‘See your beautiful breasts pointing
like arrows,’ Ogechi said, touching
them with soapy hands and telling
Olileanya to be quiet so she would
know that she was truly a woman.
Olileanya obeyed. She began to feel
uneasy moments later, begging Ogechi
to stop with voice that seemed like it
was barely hers, a voice unsure of its
commands. Her eyes were closed when
Ogechi left her breasts and started to
trace other parts of her body. Ogechi’s
hands ran through her stomach with
the carefulness of a pregnant woman
rubbing hers, found the hole between
her legs and that was when Olileanya
eyes opened as if in realization of
being touched. She squealed, broke
free and ran away naked, provoking
Ogechi to a fit of hiccupping laughter.
The next morning, it was a bit easy as
they both explored each other, eyes
bulging with an orb of curiosity.
Ogechi told her they needed to pray to
God to forgive them because this sort
of thing was a sin. They knelt down
with face contorted in prayers and
head scrunched down in concentration
as if God was visibly opposite them. In
the days that followed, they learnt
different parts of each other’s body
and never failed to say their morning
devotions.
***
Olileanya will look at you and tell you
she prays everyday for learning to
love differently; the kind of love her
pastor says God doesn’t like, the kind
of love that brings eternal
condemnation. She will wipe the tear
at the corner of her eyes with the pad
of her thumb and tell you, with a
charged voice, to get ready for another
morning devotion.
