The Day Madness Entered My Eyes | Ugochi Okafor | Fiction

Madness found its way into my eyes the day the prophet came. He was boisterous, attired in a white garment whose hands were longer than his. Unlike the rest Mma, my mother, had brought to the house to perform the “cleansing ritual” on me, this one had a bald head that suggested malnourishment, not wisdom. When he spoke—he did it with a loud voice accompanied by the ding of his bell—a surge of ballistic mouth odour hugged the air. He was barefooted, and his legs hopped as he chanted nonsensical words. Continue reading

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