KK waved frenetically at his friend. He liked walking back from school with her. But his mother always complained that they walked too slowly and talked too much. He didn’t seem to have any other friends, so she let their friendship grow.
Besiwa’s mother was her friend too, under some very strange circumstances. They had been pregnant around the same time, and just two months after they had each given birth, their husbands left them.
Well, that’s how the story was told in the Nyeba. Neither of them were from there. They had come to nurse their wounds away from prying eyes in their home villages.
But what ignited their friendship was that their children bore an uncomfortably striking resemblance to each other. They even laughed the same way, and their lips tipped a little to the left when they attempted to pout. People talked about this, but hardly to any of them.
The whole village seemed like an old man staring coldly at them. The only warmth they had was their distant friendship that they stoked with their children’s connection.