Not the First Person.
Not the first one. ”You are not the first person to ever do that.” That was mama’s favourite phrase in the world. Whatever I did, she had always encouraged me with that phrase. Whenever I lost hope, even in her absence, my mind would depend on her dim voice at the back of my head. And I would picture her in her wrappers, and flip flops, shaking her head and a perfect set of white teeth on display, as she said the phrase. At seven, when I had bitten Kalu and broke Kitan’s arm. She had said that phrase and told me not to blame myself too much. Many people had done it, and a lot more people would do worst. I was just little among those. At ten, when I had insulted my teacher for making a mockery of me in class. Mama had said, it was the teachers fault for mocking me, and she deserved it. Moreover, I was not the first person to ever do that. She had transferred me to a better private school, where teachers didn’t have the right to mock their students. She had to spend extra hours at work