Story time... Novel titled "DAWN" written by Funke Ogunsanya - chapter 1

Victoria Island, Lagos. An exclusive high-brow residential area located at the South of Lagos Island. A brazen display of wealth consisting of beautifully tarred roads, fine house structures, high concentration of bakeries, confectioneries and eateries, including chocotat Royal, Shoprite, Cactus, The Brass lamp, Park and Shop, Frenchies as well as some five star
hotels. Because of these, it was the main business and financial centre of Lagos that served as a favorite spot for Nigerians and foreigners to live and play. An exquisite parade of splendor definitely incomparable to other prominent parts of Lagos-including Ikeja, Surulere, Magodo and so on. The city that accommodated only the pocket full of money class. The city where I began my life and dreamt of how successful I would become as a television personality. With one night left for my sister’s wedding ceremony, I felt the world at my feet.
“Morenikejimi Alao-Badmus, remember to read your bible every morning when you wake up and every night before you sleep.” Small mommy’s voice in my head reminded.
27th of March 2007 was the day at exactly 8:30am. Two years ago, small mommy had instructed me convincingly yet with pleading eyes to pray fervently as she handed me a King James Version bible.
“I have marked certain passages you should memorise.” She added.
That morning, unusually reluctant, I read Psalm 91 before proceeding to the bathroom.
Hurriedly dressing up, butterflies flew in any belly as I soliloquized “Tomorrow is sister Boye’s wedding day. I will ask her if she needs me to run errands for her around the house.” I smiled for my clever idea.


I knocked slightly and sister Boye responded “Come in.
The familiar strawberry fragrance from the air freshener filled my nose when I opened the door. Big mommy had put them into every room in the house two days ago.
Sister Boye was having a phone conversation while two ladies worked on her hair. She sat in front of the dressing mirror.
“Good morning aunties.” I greeted the ladies. They answered immediately. I sat on the unarranged bed and surveyed the room while waiting for sister Boye to end the call.
Boxes were arranged at the right corner of the room. The television was switched on but was mute. Two maltesers wrappers littered the rug. The white wedding gown and its veil hung in the transparent wardrobe directly in front of me. It caught my attention and kept inviting me saying “Come and touch me. Let your fingers feel me.”
“No!” I snapped silently “My hands will stain you and sister Boye will get upset with me.” My instincts replied. Nevertheless, I looked at my palms to confirm they were unclean to touch the gown.
I was still struggling with my thoughts when sister Boye interrupted as she exclaimed loudly. “Ouch! You are gonna ruin my nails.”
It was then I realized that one of the ladies had moved to her feet for pedicure.
“Sorry ma.” The lady apologized.
“No sorry next time. Do it carefully.” Sister Boye answered rudely.
“Yes ma.”
Anyone who engaged in a conversation with sister Boye had to listen attentively to understand. She replaced words with shorter forms- ‘gonna’ ‘wanna’ ‘dunno’ ‘shoulda” etc and made her sentences too quickly. She used sorry, please and thank you too frequently, and it fascinated me how she gesticulated while she talked to emphasize what she meant.

Severally, I stood in front of the mirror imitating her American style before I realized they were too difficult to portray.
She ended the phone conversation. I spoke immediately
“Good morning sis. How was your night?”
Obviously feigning a smile in reply, she nodded in response and dialed another number. I pretended she was still listening to me even though I know she was not.
“I came to say I will like to run errands for you in the house. Feel free to ask me to do anything you need to be done. I will be your one-day-messenger.” The last sentence was aimed at being a joke so I laughed hoping to be joined by others.
Apparently, the joke didn’t go down well because neither sister Boye nor the two ladies laughed. Sister Boye concentrated on her phone while the two ladies acted like they didn’t hear anything. I quickly adjusted my mouth to stop the smile.
A call came through sister Boye’s phone. She started another conversation. I gathered she was speaking to the wedding planner.
“What do you mean 2 face is already booked? I told you four months ago to get him paid for my wedding. I’m not gonna have you ruin my African queen entrance you get me? I’ve got this planned all my life. I dunno what you wanna do but make sure he’s present for the wedding okay?” She ended the call and threw her phone angrily on the dressing table. I thought I should speak so I did.
“Sister Boye, is everything okay?”
“You are not of any use here. Stop being a nuisance and lemme to myself.” She shouted with disgust.

It was definitely a bad time to be in her room because she had put on an ugly mood.
“I will come back later.” I informed and left feeling sad and embarrassed.
Outside the room was where I cried “Why is she always cold to me? Is it because we are born by separate mothers? I have tried to have a good relationship with her since she came back from America last week but my efforts have been futile.”
More tears rolled down my cheeks as I remembered how six years ago, she told me to my face. “You are not my sister. Stop trying to be one!”
Notwithstanding, I made an excuse for her cold attitude “Right now, she is nervous and anxious. Even though hostile, she doesn’t mean to be aggressive and did not mean it when she said ‘You are not my sister,’ I am her sister and she loves me no matter what she says or does. ”A lot of efforts were put into convincing myself with that excuse. Eventually, I cleaned my cheeks with the back of my right palm.
“I should join big mommy and dad for breakfast now.” I moved to the dining table.