What It Means When a Man Falls from the Sky

by Lesley Nneka Arimah

What I hadn’t expected were the boys who ran behind her during recess and lifted up her skirt, as though my actions had given them permission, as though because they had seen her bare breast they were entitled to the rest. It was a boyish expectation most would not outgrow even after they became men.

And he should chastise the girl, he knows that, but she is his brightest ember and he would not have her dimmed.

there is this thing that distance does where it subtracts warmth and context and history and each finds that they’re arguing with a stranger.

This is the first time the girl becomes aware that the world requires something other than what she is.

Before she quiets in a country that rewards her brand of boldness, in her black of body, with an incredulous fascination that makes her put it away.

He does not yet wonder where she gets this, this streak of fire. He only knows that it keeps the wolves of the world at bay and he must never let it die out.

If she was to mother a child, to mute and subdue and fold away parts of herself, the child had to be perfect.

There was only so much a mother could ask a daughter to bear before that bond became bondage.

He didn’t seem to mind her coarseness, or how her bad luck had deepened her bitterness so that she wished even the best of people ill. He didn’t seem to mind how joy had become a finite meal she begrudged seeing anyone but herself consume.

The problem with those who don’t know real power is that they do not know real power.

Girls with fire in their bellies will be forced to drink from a well of correction till the flames die out.