How Beautiful We Were

by Imbolo Mbue

mangoes looked juicy, if he were Juba he’d want to taste them too, but as soon as Juba got home Mama would have better mangoes for him, the

Mama why is it that women feel they have to apologize for their men’s failings—when was the last time a woman was the source of her village’s suffering?

She says nothing, in the way mothers say everything while saying nothing.

Your father can do only what he has the capacity to do; surely, it must pain him to fail you. But Malabo couldn’t look past his disappointments and the many sad evenings of his childhood.