But why did my mother faint?
Mangoes, golden and full, their scent~
a whispered promise of mischief.
My fingers sticky, my heart pounding.
My mother’s eyes—wide, unblinking.
“Where did you get these?”
Her voice, a blade slicing the air.
A hush fell around us,
the mangoes cradled in guilt.
“Mum, I plucked them from a mango tree.”
Silence—a breath held underwater.
Five minutes, five hours,
eternity suspended on her brows.
“Were you alone?”
The question, a thread pulled loose,
unravelling the fabric of innocence.
“No, Mum.”
The words, a hesitant confession.
My classmates, a chorus of laughter.
The sky, a vast, yawning expanse.
“And the boys?”
Her voice—a fire slow to kindle.
“Laughing, Mum.”
The sound, now a distant echo,
a memory already fading.
“Do you know why they laughed?”
The question, a stone cast into still water,
rippling the surface of understanding.
Underpants.
The word, a whispered secret,
a shame that clings like a shadow—
its cord uncut.
Two weeks later—
more mangoes, more sweetness,
cupped in my hands.
My mother’s stare—
a mixture of expectation and dread.
“Who climbed this time?”
The question, a challenge,
a test of courage.
“I did.”
The words, a bold declaration
full of thorns.
Her fury, a gathering storm.
“But I was smarter this time,” I said.
The words, a hesitant boast.
“I took off my underpants before climbing.”
The silence that ensued—
longer than a winter night
at the South Pole.
And then,
my mother fainted.
Copyright © Maclawrence Famuyiwa | Year Posted 2025
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