My Sister and I.

It’s a story I can tell over and over. But I’m just going to skip that and go write into the post.

We meet people everyday. I mean, imagine a cashier at GT Bank trying to remember who the twenty-third person he collected money from on a Monday morning was. Except he’d been asked prior to take special notice – he wouldn’t remember.

After a while, the faces become a blur.

But even in the midst of that blur, some faces; some people still stand out.

People come into our lives daily. The okada man who drove at so sedate a pace you were almost falling asleep behind him – the cab man you thought was going to drive you off third mainland bridge – if he didn’t talk you to death first. The guy at the pharmacy who winks at you every time you ask for Durex, the mallam who knows you have visitors because you asked for the giant Indomie pack.

People. Faces. Constantly moving.

But it’s interesting that that mallam’s store is probably the fifth place on your street you can buy noodles from. You have guests, you’re in a hurry yet you’d rather walk all the way to his store to buy the same thing you could have bought from four other places at the exact same price. Or maybe for you, it’s not the mallam. It’s the mama put. It’s the beer joint. The viewing centre. The hair dressing saloon. The maytea (hope I got that right, pardon me).

Why?

Because it’s more than noodles. It’s the person.

My sister, Nneka is one such a person.

Someone who came by virtue of a tweet (still can’t thank you enough for that, Liz) and has been there. Someone who takes a moment – a chill time, a pause to say ‘how you dey?’

I can be quite the jerk – the mean guy whose default disposition is ‘angry’. I can be the neighbourhood dog who snaps at people who are trying to be nice to it. In other words, I can be something to put up with.

Still, she doesn’t let all that bother her. More often than not, she doesn’t understand my behaviour. But she knows me enough to not get mad – at least not till I’ve had a chance to explain myself.

It’s her birthday again today. And I just wanted to take a moment to say – I’m so proud of you. All you are, all you’re becoming.

Thank you for the privilege. I’m honoured.

Happy New Year, aburo!

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16 thoughts on “My Sister and I.

  1. happy birthday Nneka…I wish I had a brother such as yours…to write me sweet stuffs like this. beware of diabetes sha…too much sweet things like this can cause it o..lol
    Egbon Seun, you too much jor!

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