Nigerians never knew how to deal with abnormalities, and Zelu had plenty of those. She was a thirty-two-year-old paraplegic woman with an MFA in creative writing. Her father was a retired engineer and her mother a retired nurse, and her siblings were a surgeon, a soon-to-be neurologist, an engineer, a lawyer, and a med school student. But not much had ever been expected of her. This was mainly due to her disability. She’d endured her share of theories about family curses, juju, and charms. Her relatives were more interested in who was to blame than they were in how she lived her life.
Hmmmmm this is deep
