How You Grow Wings

“Your Igbo sounds different,” she said.

“I wasn’t speaking Igbo. That was Ika.”

“It kind of sounded like Igbo.”

“It’s similar, but it’s not the same.”

“Will you teach me?” she asked, bringing the lollipop out of her mouth with a pop.

“Teach you, Ika?”

“No, Igbo.”

“Why?”

“Do you want to live in a world where most people speak the white man’s language? How boring,” she said, her nose wrinkling.

“My Igbo is just okay. Maybe Ebuka can help you,” I said.

[…] I just want to learn how to love my people, but a lot of our culture and history has been eroded. The harder it is to learn about our past, the angrier it makes me.