When I was a child they said I was a witch. My mother’s stomach was too big to have accommodated only one baby. The old woman told me assertively that I had ingested my sibling in the womb and that I was a demon-child sent to this world to torment my parents. The unsightly “sixth finger” that decorated my left hand did not help matters. The barely there stub was said to be the manifestation of my twin struggling not to be totally absorbed and forgotten. I knelt and I listened, hands tied behind my back, literally. She dipped the leaves she’d cut from a banana tree into cold water and wiped me across my back, on my hands, shoulders, neck, head, wherever the cane found became it’s home.
I've been a ghost reader ish for a while but this really got me. AMAZING WORK! You really inspire me to get better at writing.
This is an interesting read. Thank you Atinuke for sharing💜
This is amazing stuff. I live for the morbidity that accompanies your work
Captivating from the beginning to the end. Great job Atinuke ❤️
Amazing.
This story left me wanting more and I absolutely loved it 🥺🥺🥺🥺❤️
Really enjoyed reading this❤️
This is brilliant A, quite scary but brilliant
This is so nice👍🏽👍🏽
I love your writing
This is so beautiful 😭
This is very good
this is nice, really.
This is really nice.
words can't explain how beautiful this piece is to me
My heart is still racing from imagining what I just read. Excellent writing Tinuke🤩