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artmindedside-blog · 8 years ago

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SNAPSHOT: DEATH DOES NOT END IT ALL

By: Uyi Usuanlele

When my family and I were moving to Canada we were only able to bring about 1% of our belongings and so that memories will not be forgotten, my mum took with us, a bag of pictures and this picture is one of the lucky few that came with us. I look at this picture and I ask myself who is this woman and why do I miss her when I don’t remember her? Every time I see a picture of her, it’s like my brain is trying to remember a memory, lost but not forgotten. It’s like searching through your room for the second pair of your earring, you know it’s there because that’s where you left it, but you just don’t know where in the room it is. And my heart is longing for a love that used to be there. A love that never exactly left but can no longer be felt. The only thing that can cause the above feeling is death. Death steals away precious memory and beautiful feelings, it drowns you in frustration every time you try to remember the feeling and memory. It doesn’t care for whether you’re rich or poor, tall or short, old or young, it robs us all the same, but the question is: ‘does death end it all?’

The woman in this picture is my grandmother Monica, but I call her Iye which means mother. Iye died three months after this picture was taken and I think this is one of the very last pictures she took before she gloriously went to heaven. Now we call her “Iye no rhe heaven” meaning “mother in heaven” because we know she is heaven. My grandmother died of Cirrhosis of the liver which is scarring of the liver and poor liver function. It is the final phase of chronic liver disease. My mom doesn’t like to mention the illness because people automatically assume that she was a heavy drinker but Iye never drank so that couldn’t have been the cause of her illness. When Iye was six, she lost her mother and being an African child living in a polygamous family in the 1940s at her age wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing. I think she might have caught Hepatitis B or C when she was younger and it didn’t exactly get treated properly because then people believed in traditional herbs. It was only at the chronic stage that she got diagnosed.

This picture was taken January 1st 1999 at St Paul Catholic Church in Nigeria. That day was my grandmother’s 60th birthday and as you can see in this picture, she is extremely happy. My family had celebrated her birthday at the New Year’s Eve midnight mass and in the morning of January 1st they served breakfast to all the guests who had come to wish her longer life and prosperity. My mum baked her cake. It was a white hear shaped cake with blue icing around the edge to line it like a ribbon. On top the cake also had some blue icing drops, which according to my mum I had eaten few days prior the birthday and that is why you can only see three of them in the picture. The only thing I remember about that cake was that it was the most beautiful cake I have ever seen and it was alone in the tiny spare in my grandparents’ house. I remember sneaking in there and taking the icing off and putting it to melt in my mouth. The melting released the most beautiful flavor ever and that’s why I went back to get more even though I knew I shouldn’t be eating it.

I grew up with my grandparents, I barely ever went lived with my parents when Iye was alive, and I don’t think I minded it at all. Iye thought me Edo, Eshekiri and English languages. I spoke all three fluently, and then when she passed I forgot Eshekiri because no one in the house knew how to speak it. Iye wasn’t the richest woman in the planet but she poured all her love on her grand children.

The love she showered on me, I still feel it every time I pick up one of her pictures. I don’t remember her quiet well but my family talks about her often enough for me to be able to have a ‘precised’ image of her and even though 13 years has passed since she passed on, I still have a few memories of us in my head. Death might have stolen most of my memories of Iye for from me, but it didn’t steal my feeling of love for her. Even though I don’t remember her voice or her touch, I remember her love because every time I pick up one of her pictures, I feel every ounce of love she felt for me and I think the only reason why I feel that is because I never stopped loving her even when death took her away from me at such an early age. Love is something that can never be killed, it’s an indescribable emotion that remains the same whether the other person is alive or dead. I love my grandma now the way I would have loved her if she was still alive, the fact that I will never hear her voice or feel her warm gentle touch again in my life time does not and will not change how greatly I love and admire her.

#love #grandma #death #immigrant

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artmindedside-blog · 8 years ago

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RED

By: Uyi Usuanlele

Uyi sat in front of her house reading the last book in the harry potter series. It was heart breaking, the story was over, and it was the final book. Uyi grew up reading those books, she remembered every year asking for the book and movies. How do you let something you’ve know your whole life go? It was so unexpected, but everyone, including Uyi knew that one day that day will come; the Harry Potter series will finally come to an end because one day Harry will grow up, be a man and kill Lord Voldermont before he kills Harry. It just didn’t seem right that it had to be now, its like when you’re eating something very delicious like those mini Oh’Henry Chocolate bars and you’re talking with your friend, as you’re talking to your friend and eating the delicious chocolates, you don’t notice the amount of the chocolate decreasing because you’re so into the conversation, when you put your hand into the bag and can’t find any, you’re confused and start thinking when did I eat the last one, that moment you’re disappointed and a bit depressed that’s the feeling Uyi felt as she read the final Harry Potter book. She felt the story should continue, she felt Harry’s son’s life will make a great 8thbook. She didn’t care what it will be about but as far as it was written by J.K Rowling, she was sure it will be a great book, a best seller even.

Just like the Harry Potter series had come to an end, summer itself was over and the new school year just began. To Uyi that wasn’t much of a disappointed because she was looking forward to the new school year. Uyi just moved to Canada in April was enjoying her new life. The weather was good so far and not as bad as she expected, but people kept telling her to wait till November, she’ll be in for the greatest surprise of her life.

Uyi loved learning the new culture and trying to imitate the Canadian accent. The accent was different; her mom always said it sounded like the Canadians where eating really hot food and where trying to talk at the same time. So when Uyi was eating and the food was still hot, she will try her Canadian accent impersonation “mum do I sound Canadian now?” she will asked almost in pain

Her mum will chuckle and reply “not yet dear, you sound paralyzed”

Uyi’s parents were both scholars, her dad Uyilawa was getting his second PhD in African History at Queens University and her mom was a medical lab scientist, back in Nigeria she had her own private laboratory and everything. Life in Canada has been difficult for her and even though she wasn’t complaining Uyi could see the stress becoming to take a toll on her mother. For Uyi, life in Canada hasn’t been what she expected, if she could, she would take the next flight back to Nigeria, but she knew she couldn’t, she couldn’t leave her family behind.

Back in Nigeria, life was great, Uyi’s family was middle class, but if they lived that way in Canada they would have been considered upper upper class. They had everything, big houses, and nice cars. Uyi didn’t know cars but she knew her grandpa’s Mercedes which he got for his birthday must have cost a fortune. One could have considered Uyi and her four siblings as spoiled because they had people to help around the house and all the five kids went to the best private schools around (one had to audition and write an exam to get in because everyone wanted to send their kids to that school) and had private tutors to help them with their homework. Uyi’s mom Tessy, worked at a university and also had her own private lab which was founded by some well known hospitals (her uncle who is a medical doctor owned one of these hospitals). Uyi didn’t know her dad’s job except he travelled a lot, doing research and studying different cultures. After her little sister was born, her dad won a scholarship to queens University to start his second PhD. He got a job almost immediately at State University of New York (S.U.N.Y) to teach African history. Their life was going great, everything was perfect expect Uyi’s parents wanted the family together. Her mum visited Canada in 2006 and the decision was made, they were going to start a new life in Canada. Tessy closed down her lab, took a study leave at the university (She planned to do a PhD in Canada) and on April 18th 2008 the rest of the Usuanlele family and their aunty Rosaria, left Nigeria to start their new life in Canada. After 12 hours on air they arrived at JFK airport in New York and drove another eight hours to Kingston Ontario.

Summer ended and Uyi started high school at Regi-Opolis Notre Dame. Uyi didn’t mind going to a government owned school. It was actually nice, there were a lot of people and the teachers were nice. Most people didn’t understand Uyi when she spoke the first time because of her Nigerian accent, but she didn’t mind repeating herself. Actually she thought it was quite funny whenever she said something and people didn’t understand her and instead of asking her to repeat herself they nodded and smiled like idiots. Her accent was a mix of British and Edo (her mother tongue). The whole of Nigeria was colonized by the British so if you listen closely you heard a hint of the British accent.

Uyi loved how the teachers loved her because of how respectful and quite she was. She was different from the other students. Back in Nigeria a student was supposed to fear and respect their teachers and if they didn’t they got beaten (corporal punishment). Even though they didn’t have the corporal punishment in Canada, Uyi still feared her teachers, they were older than she was and she couldn’t imagine what will happen to her at home if her parents got a phone call from the school because she was misbehaving. Sure they were in Canada but her mother didn’t hesitate to slap her across the cheeks if she went out of line. In fact Uyi thought it was quite repulsive that children here insulted their parents and all their parents did was ground them. Back in Nigeria if such a thing ever happen, that child will be so sorry that they wouldn’t even think about thinking of doing such a thing again.

Uyi made a few friends, but her best friends were Nicole and Eve. They were both from Congo but never seemed to get along. They were like Tom and Jerry, Popeye and Bluto, , they both couldn’t stand each other but always ended up together, they were forever fighting but Uyi always felt sorry for the fool who tried to separate them cause they both ganged up on that person. For them it was completely normal to act like worst enemies and best friends at the same time. But never the less, Uyi loved them both and treasured their friendship.

Uyi was a very studious student, she had to be, both her parents were and she was also enrolled in the I.B (International Barracualte) program. This program was harder than academic level, in fact the average of each student was always plus five if they decided to drop to the academic level. Uyi didn’t mind, she loved being challenged, although she wasn’t the competitive type, she loved hard work, even though it was frustrating, she loved the feeling of accomplishment after she comprehended what she studied. She did all her homework even though all the courses she was doing, she did them before in Nigeria. In Nigeria, the education standard was set really high, so if compared with Canada. So the things kids were doing in grade 10 in Canada, kids in Nigeria had already done them in either grade 7 or 8. So to Uyi, school was easy, she didn’t even have to try to have a 90 average. Everything was like review to her and the great feeling of awesomeness that came with being one of the smartest kids made her want to wake up every morning to go to school.

The people Uyi had met so far in Canada were amazing. They were loving, kind and just so wonderful. She was always the center of attention especially in school because of her accent and people were always mesmerized about the stories she told about Nigeria. The students were surprised when they found out that some of the stereotypical things they heard about Africa in general wasn’t true. A kid named Frankie in Uyi’s geography class seemed to be filled with all the stereotypes about Africa.

“Hey Uyi, is in true that in Africa everyone lived in mud huts?” he would ask with a smirk on his face

“No” Uyi will reply a bit irritated “the houses are made from bricks, when you go home, Google Lagos, Nigeria, it’s just like New York City, except filled with black people who speak different languages.” She will sigh and then add “this is just like when Americans think Canadians live in igloos, but we know its not true because we have houses” because she knew he will never google up Lagos, Nigeria.

“so because you guys spend your money on houses, you don’t have enough for food and clothes, that’s why the kids on TV go around dressed in rags and are always starving” Frankie’s friend, James will add high fiving the other boys

“The kids on TV are all actors, they get paid more than you’ll ever receive from your MacDonald’s jobs” Nicole will say very irritated and like that they will argue about how Africa is just like North America and not like the propagandas they put on TV. Uyi never understood why these kids were so ignorant, the people on TV were making money off innocent citizens by their stupid propagandas and people were stupid enough to fall for them because like her dad said, “they never go past Toronto, they don’t know what’s in the world out there, all they do is watch TV and go on the internet and believe anything anyone says as far as its online, its true to them.” It was ridiculous because for civilized people they sure where stupid.

Even though some of the people were ignorant, Uyi loved Canada and the people and she felt like the people loved her too. But her Dad always told her and her siblings that “even though there are nice people around, there are always those who don’t like us because of our dark skin complexion.” Uyi coming from Africa had fairly dark skin, but that didn’t bother her, so far no body had made fun of her because of her skin, in fact people told her how lucky she was to be blessed by that skin. She didn’t have to worry about sun burn, wrinkles at 30 or any of those nasty blemishes. She didn’t use make-up because she felt so confident in her skin that someone might had confused her as being conceded.

Uyi was terrible with starting or carrying on a conversion so she avoided them altogether. She was what people called an introvert. She liked to be herself and just watch people, just stare and be amaze at how different people react to different things. It sounded creepy but she didn’t feel creepy when just noticed people. She thought it was quite funny actually and never saw the weirdness of it. She used to walk her siblings from school after school because her school was close to their school. She will wait twenty minutes for them to be done school and in those twenty minutes, she will observe parents. She saw a lot of terrible driving and a lot of angry parents. What made her laugh was the way different people dressed to pick their kids from school, some wore mixed matched shoes and others just looked like cartoon characters. When she walked home with her siblings, she stayed behind them because her mom always said “the oldest stays behind the youngest ones so they know what the younger ones were doing, if not they would look like the chicken who walks in front of her chicks and doesn’t notice when the hulk swipes one away”

After walking with her siblings for about three months she got bored of it and since they were in grade 7 and 6, her mom told her they were fine walking home themselves. It was the best news she had received so far, she’ll be able to get home almost thirty minutes before her anyone else and will have all the right to the TV remote which they always fought for when they got home. Now she wouldn’t have to fight them for it, and she can trade the remote for one of her sibling’s computer time. It felt like she had been given a lifelong supply of Oh’Henry Chocolate.

Christmas and New Year came and left, Uyi wrote her first semester exams and passed with flying colors. Her parents were so proud that they decided to get her something for excelling in school.

Spring 2009, Uyi’s aunt drove her to the mall to get her first cell phone. She was so excited, it felt better than being in charge of the TV remote, it made her feel more grown up.

“What color will it be?” her aunt asked her as they drove into the mall’s parking lot

“It will be red!” she squealed excitedly

“Red?” her aunt asked with a smile forming across her face “I thought blue was your new favorite color, and beside you said, red symbolized danger”

“Yeah I know, it’s just red has been my color since I can remember and so I just thought I carry on the tradition”

They walked into best buy and Uyi went to where the phones were sold. She looked through the different phones, she didn’t want something expensive, just a regular phone. As she began to get frustrated she saw it, it was like when Squidward first tasted a krabby patty, it was beautiful, she ran to it and called at her aunt “This is the one!” she said practically drooling over it.

It was a red Samsung flip phone, with black shiny keys. It wasn’t what everyone had but it did the most important things: receive and send texts and incoming calls and games to play while I’m bored.

Her new cell phone was what she played with when she walked home now. It made her feel cooler and superior to the other kids who didn’t have a cell phone. She felt responsible and so grown up that every time she walked home, she brought out her cell phone and pretended to be really busy texting so people would can see her and know that she’s not just a child, she’s a teenager responsible to have her own cell phone. To make herself look more grown up, after school, she will change from her uniform into something casual and then walk the ten minutes trip home.

She was walking home from school feeling particularly happy with herself for acing her French test. With her eyes glued to her phone she didn’t notice a car slowing down beside her. She looked up and the car had come to a complete halt in front of her. It was a nice car, it was the kind she wanted to buy when she turned sixteen, she didn’t know much about cars but she knew it was a Toyota. It was red, had four doors and contained five boys, all of which she assumed attended Queens University. She didn’t think much of the car but she kept walking pretending not to see them. Her steps quickened because she felt quite uneasy with all five boys staring at her, the car started driving again slowing beside her.

The car drove ahead of her and came to a complete stop, all five boys came down and started yelling at her, at first she couldn’t make out a word they were saying, for her it felt like those dramatic movies, when something big is about to happen, everything happened in slow motion, the sound of just your heart pounding against your chest and the strange feeling of adrenaline and fear both pumping through your veins at the same time. It took her about ten seconds to hear what they were saying

“You fucking whore!!”

“Nigger”

“You don’t belong here”

“Go back to Africa and live with your ape family”

“Bitch”

“Black slut”

That’s all she heard, she just stood there, paralyzed, couldn’t walk away or run away from there as much as she had wanted to. She felt weak, like she was going to pass out, she didn’t know what to say or do. After what seemed like ten years, they jumped back inside their car and drove off quickly as if something had scared them. She turned around and one of the boys had his middle finger pressed against the back window of the car and he was still yelling.

Another car drove by her in the opposite direction, she turned back around, held her cell phone closer to her face, but she couldn’t see what was on her cell phone, her mind kept replaying what just happened. She was sure if it the approaching car sent them running off but whatever it, she was happy it scared them off.

As she walked the remaining five minutes to her house, she tried to forget what happen. She didn’t know why she didn’t put her cell phone in her pocket and just run. It still felt like a dream to her, it was like she felt asleep on the side walk and had a terrible nightmare.

When Uyi got home, she went straight to bed, she didn’t feel like being in charge of the TV remote, she didn’t feel like going on the computer, all she wanted to do was sleep.

The next day, Uyi woke up, pretended like what happened the day before was dream, she never told anyone what happened because to her what ever happened the day before was just a terrible nightmare, and everyone recovers from a nightmare, with time you just forget and everything will be all blur.

THE END

#short story #story #racism #red #true story

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