Counting

Titiloye,

How are you? Where are you? Are you fine? Is everything okay?

When I sent the last letter, I completed the tally in my counting page in my jotter. As I made the 5th stroke across the other 4 strokes, I remembered how maami used it to count the number of days that she waited. Now, I am using it to keep track of how many letters I have sent out to you.

Titiloye, are you getting my letters? Are you keeping them in that yellow box maami bought us when were 15? Maybe planning to send me one long letter for the many I have sent? Or is it work? Are you too busy? Do people call you mummy now? Did you have twins just like we hoped? Since I didn’t get twins, maybe you did? If you have read my letters, why won’t you answer me? It makes my chest hurt, Titiloye, not being able to speak to you. Please answer me.

I still don’t understand what it is that you see in him. Titiloye, don’t you know if he beats you once, he will do it again? Jide was never your “the one”. Maami was right to tell us to stop watching those oyinbo movies. All they did was fill our head with lies. Because it was those lies that formed the foundation for all the maltreatment that Jide meted on you. Ever before he lied about being with Sade at that party, I knew he was not good for you. But you are so stubborn, Titiloye. You didn’t listen to me or even maami when she was alive. Even the way he spoke to you, like he owned you. I never liked him and he knew it.

I still can’t believe you left Ibadan without telling me. I know it was his idea. His way of removing wise counsel from your life. He knew you were shy and not outspoken enough to get new friends, so he took you away from the people you knew. When I went to your house that day I knocked so much and screamed your name till that old baba with his one brown tooth came out and told me to shut up. I could not believe that my twin sister would leave me without informing me. I cried so much, Titiloye, knowing what being with him and without us, meant. If he could not behave when we there, how about when we were not? You need to leave him for your own life. I know that it’s not easy and that you love this man, but only the living can love, Titiloye. Only someone who has not had her skull crushed by her own love will be alive to love that man again. Or are you scared of being like me? A woman without a husband at our age? Are you scared of going through all that maami did? Did she not survive? Do you fear that you won’t be able to?

Please respond to this letter, Titiloye. He doesn’t have to know. I have a friend at the post office. She can make sure that your letters get to me personally. It won’t be put in public records, you won’t have to sign any forms or pay for it. I have paid 10 pounds and 6 shillings to her already. She will just collect it and get it across to me directly. That way, Jide won’t be able to find out that we are communicating.

Titiloye, let me know that you are fine please. I don’t want to have to look at the mirror, to try to see your face. I don’t want to have to run my finger across the marks on my left cheek, as though I am touching your cheek. I don’t want to look at the birthmark we both have on our arms, the black patches in semi-circle style with the rough edges, and not be able to hold your hand, with the two marks seeming to complete each other into a full circle. I have not been able to sleep since you left. It’s been 5 months now and this is my 76th letter. Maami counted to 101 days when she gave up on Daddy coming back to us but I won’t give up so soon. I miss you terribly, egbon mi. I can sense that something is wrong but I don’t know what it is. Just let know that you are fine. Please.

Your only sister,

Titilope