₦airaland Forum

estrella:
It is all a ritual’, Martha thinks to herself as she shuffles shifts from feet to feet foot to foot on the line that is headed towards the priest at the altar. (is she shifting as in fidgeting or is she shuffling forward on a queue? This is confusing. If the former, it’s fine, if she’s on walking on a queue, you can do “shuffles down the line). She almost sighs out loud until she remembers that her father is standing right behind her and will probably give her the tongue lashing of her life if she in any way acts less than holy.
So she stands still on the line, her hands clasped gently in front of her, her head tilted to one side and her eyes lowered to the floor like a shy virgin. She is the perfect picture of piety; her mother would be proud of her. She always has said that Martha has a certain virginal innocence to her and constantly tells her that if she was good enough, she may get a visit from the Blessed Virgin Mary like those kids in Santa fey (Santa Fe) had.
Unfortunately, her mother never gets to see if she is blessed with the Virgin’s presence. She dies early in the middle giving birth to the baby.
Martha is almost near the priest now. She watches surreptitiously from beneath her lashes as the priest moves from person to person, swiping the black paste on their forehead.
When it gets to her turn, she shuts her eyes tight and nearly shudders with disgust as the cold paste touches her forehead.
As she walks back to her seat, she wonders how she was going to explain the symbol to her new boyfriend; Obinna waltzes into her life when it makes absolutely no sense; her mother has just died and her father is suddenly transformed from the warm funny man she remembers to a dark hovering shadow that never seems to stay in one place long enough. So, she is constantly afraid that she will lose Obinna, (why? I would cancel the “so” because you haven’t given us a reason why she would be afraid of losing Obinna at this point) especially since she is more religious than he is. He has a way of making her feel like she doesn’t know what she is doing when she goes for evening mass every day of the week
‘There’s more to life that just going to church Martha, he says tonelessly one evening as the shade of evening falls and he watches her pull on her clothes after a particularly violent session of intimacy in his tiny airless boys quarters.
‘I have to’, she replies, struggling to pull up her zip.
Why? He asks unclothed frustration thickening his voice.
She doesn’t answer him then and even now she doesn’t know if she knows the answer to that question.
When she goes to see him later, he will mock her about the symbol and make her feel silly again. But she loves him and she will forgive him as usual.
Her thoughts fall quiet as the prayers for lent start and she joins in. Sometimes like now, she can almost feel a presence hover over the congregation like a huge blanket whenever prayers are going on; she looks down at her arms; the hairs there are standing up.
Soon the mass is over and she joins the throng as they head towards the exit of the church.
As she emerges into the heat of the day, she feels a hand on her shoulder and turns to look back.
‘Will you come home for the weekend?  It is her father with his straight- as- an- arrow expression.
‘Yes father’, she says squeezing his hand on her shoulder. Looking at him is like looking into a mirror. People around her call her, her father’s child and even her mother then would look at her and sigh.
‘It’s as if it is your father not I who carried you for nine months and gave birth to you’ she would say.
She has her father’s caramel-coloured skin and his beautiful eyes; they are deep pools of secrets that dare you to unearth them (this is a beautiful sentiment but there’s something awkward about “unearthing deep pools,” like “unearth” and “pool” don’t go together. Maybe something like: “they are deep pools of secrets daring you to explore their depths,” or something… I dunno, I would re-think this) and  Obinna the first time he stares into them says without the trace of a smile, ‘you will bewitch me’
Her father turns away; she watches him as he mingles with the crowd and disappears.
Her thoughts come back with a vengeance as she walks back to the hostel a few blocks away from the church. Her father hardly smiles at her anymore but she knows that he still loves her. The child who in drawing breath ended her mother’s life is loved by only her. Her father has not looked at the child since the day he was born and does not even raise an eyebrow when his wife’s sister comes and takes the baby away
‘You will kill him faster with your indifference Ikenna’; she lashes out at him on that day (I don’t think “she lashes out” agrees with “that day”) when she comes to visit and finds the child wet, cold and hungry in his cot.
Martha misses the child. Her aunt has taken him to Portharcourt; a place far away from Kaduna and Martha hardly has the time to see him even when she is on holidays because she is afraid to leave her father alone.
She realizes suddenly that she is not alone as she approaches the entrance of the hostel. There are two men walking on either side of her matching her pace for pace. She stops suddenly and they halt too as if she is their puppeteer. She feels something pressed against her back. It is cold and hard and she knows what it is.
‘Walk to the car across the road and don’t talk to anyone while you’re at it’, a calm voice says into her ear. ‘Now she is the puppet’ she thinks as she walks across the road. Traffic is nearly nonexistent after all; it is barley eight in the morning.
The two men who flank her seem to dissipate into thin air as she approaches the car but she knows the one behind her is still there. She can smell his perfume and oddly, his perfume reminds her of the incense the priest uses for mass.
Now she is in the car and there is someone there waiting for her to send her into oblivion. A handkerchief, the strong smell of chloroform and she is gone.

Suzanne84:
Thanks. I was referring to Stieg Larsson's trilogy. Will look out for them now.
I've finished reading "The Crazed" and i'm afraid it didn't quite live up to my expectations. I give it 2 stars out of 5.
Jin's style is on point as usual - distinct metaphors, near-lyrical expressions and so on. The themes in the book are relevant to China as well. But the plot was a bit too simple for me. I'm just saying.
Give it a try all the same. Who knows? I might just be wrong.

Suzanne84:
Just finished reading "Keeping Faith" by Jodi Picoult. I loved it, Picoult rarely disappoints.
Now reading "The Crazed" by Ha Jin. I hope it's as good as "Waiting"
.

@Tatase Now this is on my must-read list. Does it live up to the hype, please?

slap1:
Mariama Ba's SO LONG A LETTER.