Broken Promise

Broken Promise – Part 2 of 6

I had used to dream of Maryam sitting in the car beside me on our way home from the airport, picturing the wonderment and joy in her voice. How thrilled she could have been and bursting into her peculiar hearty laughter at any and everything. She’d have detailed her flight to me in that unaffected manner of hers. It would have been her first time on air, travelling on a plane. She had a fear for heights and regularly marveled at the mystery and ability of planes flying up in the sky. It scared her somewhat, the idea of flying.

HIV/AIDS: THE RISKS OF BREASTFEEDING

BIBI is dead; her body was found in the bushes yesterday.” Emeka, my husband had announced dispassionately after he got off the phone.
“Aha… …! I responded noncommittally without a flinch and cradled my frail little girl tighter to my chest.
You could have imagined by my impassionate response that he could have been announcing the weather or else we were the strangest or coldest couple that you know.