“When you leave your home, carry some of if its soil with you, so that when you are gone, your heart remains at home,” I was told.
Ntchou did just that.
When Ntchou proposed, my only condition was that he take me away from here. We tied the knot and first thing on his agenda, he brought me to Tsikor. I brought some soil from my home with me. But Ntchou would soon leave for a faraway land with the promise to return. He said he’d take me to some better place. A little after he left, I woke up one day feeling sick. My head turned. I vomited and felt exhausted. I’d soon realise it was rather health than sickness. I was pregnant. Twins were on their way. But their father had just left.
Now, sixty years later here we are. You sit there before me. You ask me to tell you a story. You say Lorlor was our father. Children, you ask me much; you ask me to pour out my sould after I’ve poured out the soil of my home over the tomb of my son. I am old. I was given life and I gave life back. I brought forth two boys, without their father to hold my shoulder. I bore them in my hands. I had to be strong because they needed my strength. Then they grew. And left.