Read by the author.
It had been a fortnight since Ugo's burial, and the vacuum I felt within me grew ever larger. I jumped out of bed most nights with screams that made mama down two cupfuls of Mazi Ike's supposedly heart-mellowing concoction every day, and I couldn't continue huddling under the avocado tree beside Ugo's grave every other night weeping.
Podcast: Download (Duration: 30:06 — 20.67MB)
Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | Google Podcasts | RSS | More
Read “The Mama Mmiri” by Walter Dinjos, in Issue #190