Ozoemena

The scar on your face. Mother says you got it the fourth time you were born. She hoped you’d stay this time, that you would hang around long enough to get a real name. She had heard the spirits would not take back deformed children, so she held back tears as she cut your face with the sterilised blade. You died anyway, in your sleep. She wailed and wailed, and was inconsolable. Father couldn’t give her comfort. When she got pregnant again, two years later, it was a mistake. When you were born, she was too tired to notice the scar on your face. She couldn’t have been bothered. This time, you stayed longer. She called you Nonye. It was a plea. This time, you stayed. Maybe the spirits did reject you.