On the day of my first award, my jaw hurt. Hurt from smiling too much. Smiling too hard. It didn’t matter that the skies had been eerily darkened with clouds. It also didn’t matter that before the ceremony I realised that I’d worn my suit inside out. Twice. Clearly, the day was set to keep the smile that hurt my cheeks out of my face. But I wouldn’t be deterred. I would smile because it was to be the happiest day of my life.
On the day of my first award, I saw my parents smile. It was their first time in the city of Brooksville and they’d flown from my home country to celebrate it here with me. It didn’t matter that they were the odd ones out or the fact that they seemed to be the only ones overdressed, the burst of colours from my Dad’s agbada and the elegant loudness from my Mom’s adire-designed buba, contrasted with the crowd of parents that mostly seemed to be dressed in monochromes and nudes. They held my hand and kept patting my head fondly. My Mom’s tens of bangles jingled on her arms and shone from the overhead lights. She was drawing attention and she knew it. But she didn’t care. She was a proud mother of a graduate.
On the day of my first award, I saw from the stage the proud smiles of my parents. Best graduating student of the Mechanical engineering class and Valedictorian, the beam on their faces and the tears streaming down their eyes were blinding as I gave my speech from the podium. In that moment it didn’t matter that my Dad said before I’d left that it didn’t look like I would make it given my poor academic performance in high school or that my Mom had sucked her teeth and said that if I brought shame to their name, they had four other children to uphold the family name. All that didn’t matter. I’d made them proud. All was well.
On the day of my first award, my Mom clutched my hand tightly and even when I tried to pry her fingers away gently, she held on.
“Why can’t you come back home with us,” she’d said.
“Why do you need to celebrate with others when you have your family here with you?” Dad was puzzled.
I smiled and hugged my Mom. And to Dad, I’d said, “They may never see me again but you both have me with you, forever.”
My parents were usually headstrong. But my words somehow calmed them. They relented and asked me to come home as soon as I was done celebrating with my friends. Mom whispered in my ear that she had my favourite jollof rice delicacy waiting for me. I’d answered with a glint that I wouldn’t miss it for the world. She ruffled my hair and kissed my forehead. She was finally satisfied and she let me go.
On the day of my first award, I partied with my friends and my soul brothers. We’d been bookworms for the entirety of college, so it was only right that we let the booze overwhelm us after all our hard work had finally paid off.
“They said this one will make you see stars like they're in front of you,” one of my soul brothers screamed groggily into my ear. He wanted his voice to be heard above the loud music but I guess my brain was already too fogged to tell him that even the smallest whispers were echoing loudly in my ear. I smiled as I took the little cup from his hand. What other stars did I need when my achievements already clouded me with so much joy? One more enjoyment with the boys, I thought as I downed the cup. The taste of victory at last.
On the day of my first award, I screamed at the top of my lungs as we zoomed back into the city. My head was out of the car and the wind slapped me in the face. It didn’t matter. My ecstasy knew no bounds. I chuckled to myself as I thought of the steaming jollof rice waiting for me. Mom would probably be mad when I told her that I couldn’t stand any other edible or liquid entering my mouth if I didn’t want to puke all over her floor. She’d be mad but she would understand.
On the day of my first award, I saw the lights before I heard the sound, bright and glaring. I tapped frantically on the roof of the car but the music seemed too loud. I giggled to myself, they were right. I was seeing stars like they were in front of me. So bright. So near. So loud? Why were the stars loud? But that was my last thought as I saw myself up in the air and down to the ground. No, those weren’t my last thoughts. My last thoughts as life slowly ebbed out of me were my mother’s words. If I disappointed them, they had four other children to uphold the family name. Then all went dark.
Jhymi🖤
This is an extended entry to @marrianewest's daily prompt.
