(cont from part 1)
“Hahahahahaa! What do you know small girl? African mothers are the wittiest! Out, I will go but you don’t step on the cobra’s tail and expect friendship. I have had my eyes on your pride for years. Years when you turned down suitors upon suitors. But not Kunle, No! You will bow to my wit, because I came to this world before you!” Adeola nodded at Ewatomi before walking away graciously with a wicked grin glued on her face.
Once her mother slammed the door, she waited for some minutes before she dug her nails into the curtain made of Adire, she dragged the sharp nails down and it totally ripped the poor curtain off but her anger wasn’t satisfied. Ewatomi growled like a beast who had been deprived of its meal. She frantically searched the room before pouncing on her dressing table. She violently laid her fingers first on the edge of the table, then her palms, then her arms, then in one motion altogether, she cleared its surface which on it rested local perfumes, hair combs, her diary, local eyeliner, pens, white powder, jewelries of all sorts and an empty glass bottle. The crashing sound silmutaneously pierced the air with her shrieks. She resisted those tears with all her might but they gushed out, like rivers on her firm cheeks. Her groans alerted her personal maid, who ran into the room awestruck at the mess.
“Princess, are.. are… are you alright?”
Ewatomi rose her head up melodramatically, and when she finally locked Anu’s gaze. Anu, her loyal maid for ten years froze. She nodded abruptly and sped out of the room. There was no need to ask of the Princess’s welfare, she knew. So she ran to save her job, her daily bread, her life.
Ewatomi gazed upon the shards of glass on the floor. She crouched down slowly to pick its pieces, then she took a large splinter and pierced her finger deliberately, rapidly. The way the blood seeped from her thumb made her let go of a moan but she licked her lips, as if it gave her joy to feel pain. She removed the splinter and gathered the many pieces she could find. Some were under the dressing table, others all over. After she picked as many as possible, she stood still. Ewatomi laid them on the table, then sat facing the mirror. Her eyes focused on her reflection, a beautiful woman indeed, one who appeared strong. She had huge eyes and her skin was black. Black not because she was African but it was simply the colour of midnight, yet her crystal clear cornea beamed her colour. She truly was gorgeous. With those thick eyebrows and charming smooth black skin.
Olufemi used to tell her that her eyes were the shooting stars in the night sky…and sometimes they were the luminous moon, and other times, the sun, all depending on her mood swings. He told her tales of how her melanin was the core reason of her beauty and when he closed his eyes, the only thing he saw was her. Oh, how his words were glued to her sense of reasoning. Like how he said her lips being almost pink, but having shades of red made him think good of blood. He never had seen a woman with such edge. Her nose, he said was divine, it was the bridge on her face that looked as smooth as a slide. Her cheeks, always rising with emotions. He always told her one thing he wanted to be sunk in was her dimples, whenever she smiled, how they made the flash of her teeth so cute.
“What a gorgeous witch you are.” She told her reflection.
She looked at the pieces and tears threatened to flee again. The mirror managed to bring her to face it. She used to be a vulnerable woman, one who believed in love, but the day the last drop of oil in that glass bottle touched her thick African hair was the day she despised the most. The same day he was never seen again. And yes, it was her who almost killed him. She laughed hysterically at that. “I’d be forever grateful for that!”
Then she thought of something that gave her peace…her pet, the leopard.
to be continued…..