Quinta-feira, 30 de Novembro de 2006

e agora...

“ “Maybe when we are in the university you will join me agitating for optional celibacy in the priesthood?” Amaka asked. “Or maybe fornication should be permitted all priests once in a while. Say, once a month?””

 

;o)

bela pergunta não acham???

publicado por eli às 16:45
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Quarta-feira, 29 de Novembro de 2006

mais umas palavras...

“ The stinging was raw now, even more like bites, because the metal landed on open skin on my side, my back, my legs. Kicking. Kicking. Kicking. Perhaps it was a belt now because the metal buckle seemed too heavy. … More stings. More slaps.”

“My whole body is on fire,” I said.

“It was Uncle Eugene who did that to you, okwia?” she asked.

I let go of the railings, suddenly needing to ease myself. Nobody had asked, not even the doctor at the hospital or father Benedict. I did not know what Papa had told them.Or if he had even told them anything.”

 

“ “You know that small table where we keep the family Bible, nne? Your father broke it on my belly.”

“My blood finished on that floor even before he took me to St. Agnes. My doctor said there was nothing he could do to save it.”

“I was six weeks gone." "

 

Que destino terá um homem que bate nos seus filhos como se fossem coisas e na sua mulher, mãe dos seus filhos?


publicado por eli às 19:48
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Terça-feira, 28 de Novembro de 2006

começando...

Não quero dar a conhecer tudo agora, prefiro ir dando umas pistas para vos aguçar o gosto, espero que gostem.

 

  

“ “ Don’t you know how to smile?” he asked.

“What?”

He reached across, tugged lightly at the sides of my lips.

“Smile.”

I wanted to smile, but I could not. My lips and cheeks were frozen, unthawed by the sweat runnig down the sides of my nose. I was too aware that he was watching me.”

 

“ “Come in,” he said. He was standing by the tub. “Climb into the tub.”

I stared at Papa. Why was he asking me to climb into the tub? … there was no stick anywhere.

When Jaja and I were younger … we always chose whistling pine because the branches were malleable, not as painful as the stiffer branches from the gmelina or the avocado.

He had never asked me to stand inside a tub. Then I noticed the kettle on the floor, close to Papa’s feet, the green kettle Sisi used to boil hot water for tea and garri, the one that whistled when the water started to boil.

“You should strive for perfection. You should not see sin and walk right into it.” He lowered the kttle into the tub, tilted it toward my feet. He poured the hot water on my feet … The pain of contact was so pure, so scalding, I felt nothing for a second. And then I screamed.

“That is what you do to yourself when you walk into sin. You burn your feet,” he said."

por hoje fico por aqui, amanhã há mais e no fim, desvendo o livro.

;o)


publicado por eli às 23:38
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