Good words are like flowers kissed by the morning dew— an African saying…

Happy flowers

The story continues…

Nne’s was the final voice of authority in my mother’s decision to send me to Lagos without Papa’s permission. Not only because her mother was held in the highest esteem by her husband, but also because Uncle was the son of my grandmother’s late, little sister. When that sister passed away, Nne had been the one who co-raised the children she left behind, including…