As Onari’s bulge grew, so did Bayo’s infatuation, and the size of Kelechi’s gift offerings – till Onari was living wholly off Kelechi’s fears, and, by self-seeking design, stoking the fire in which her good fortune was smelted.
For instance, with Kelechi around Onari would burst into Bayo’s room and burst out: ‘Feel it, Bayo – touch it! Can you feel the kick? He’s asking for his namesake you know. You have abandoned us.’ Or, lying on her bed with Bayo beside her, and Kelechi banished to a chair and the role of spectator, she would hitch her gown to the top of her thighs and place her ankles on Bayo’s beer-belly, and wheedle: ‘My feet, Bayo. Only your hand does anything for my pains.’ And helplessly Kelechi would return her shy smile, and grip her thigh insides bloody in silent anguish, watching all her efforts destroyed, by a foot massage.
- Read on
- Black Biro is currently the only online literary magazine published within Nigeria. The first issue features short fiction, poetry, essays and visual art.