Thin voice that had caused dryness in my mouth, continued. ‘I can see mom and dad are not prepared for this.’ I turned my head to my partner. When we interlocked our hands, I’m unaware. I can tell she’s suppressing her reaction to the news; her lips are rolled in firmly. She closed her eyes. With thumb and index fingers of her right-hand she dragged pool of water that formed along her eyelashes to her nose bridge. My jaw quivered. I become aware that I’m crying, too. Clearing my throat, ‘Are you sure?’ The hijabi paediatrician, nodded. ‘It’s a lot to take in, I know.’ The wishful part of me gazed at our son fiddling with movable light attached to the exam table with blue disposable sheet. As usual, his numerous toy cars he wouldn’t leave home without are on windowsill of the doctor's office, like cars in Lagos traffic, under the white Venetian blind. It had bothered us that aged three, our son, was yet to say a word. When he began to walk at twelve months, his nar...
follow @koleheth on twitter!