Growing up as an African hasn't been the easiest way to live but for me, I got life easy and with a silver spoon. Ironic, isn't it? I grew up as the only surviving child of my parents and I was 24. I came for the weekend at my parent's house and I was dusty the palour table when my mum asked me to finish up with rice she was preparing and set the table for breakfast. I sighed as she walked away after talking. I HATED my mother. She wasn't my best parent and I didn't like to have anything to do with her. I walked into the kitchen, washed my hands and opened the pot to check if the food was ready.
"Few more minutes." I muttered.
I sat at a corner while watching the boiling pot. Time had passed and we were having breakfast at the table as everyone ate in silence.
"Howiswork?" My mum suddenly spoke up.
"Fine." I answered.
"You know, Elizabeth is getting married soon. Her introduction is a few weeks."
"I'm aware." I replied already irritated because I could already tell where this conversation was going.
"What about you?" She asked staring intently at me.
"I'm not ready to get married." I spoke without raising my head to look at her.
"At 24?" She urged
"I don't want to talk about this. I already told you that I'm not getting married any time soon." I responded with so much irritation in my voice.
"I forbid it for you! You must get married, and you will get married as soon as possible! Darling, can you hear her?" She thundered as she stared towards my dad cleared with wide eyes in shock.
I took my plate of food and walked to my room. My morning started off good, and I wasn't going to let her ruin it.