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Houston Reels RUSTLING LEAVES
Texas was very warm at that time of the year. Hot air filled the atmosphere of Houston, the trees whistling, the almost stunk aroma of the woman roasting kebabs from across the street, and the rustling dead leaves from last fall. Everything reminded Isioma of her last relationship with Kent. Well, not only the leaves were dead, but her love life was also dead. She received a call from Mama last year, and as usual, the topic of discussion was her love life. “Isioma, when are you bringing a man to this house?” she asked with so much which so much repressed anger in her tone.“You know you aren’t getting any younger. Very soon, your breast will start to fall. Do you think your child can suckle oh fallen breast?” she added.Isioma remembered how lost she was when she traveled to Enugu last year for her cousin’s white wedding in St. Mathews’ Catholic Church back home in Nigeria, and how she had felt lost. She felt lost not because she was angry that her beloved and almost favorite cousin
Houston Reels THE PAST AND HOW IT AFECTS THE PRESENT
Mustering a little bit of courage and inner fierceness, she went back into the house, a detached two-bedroom apartment with unsightly walls and trim where the paint had begun to peel. “I am confused, Kent. Do you for a second fathom the kind of shame ostracism as a girl dating a White man on campus. I am supposed to be a model for the other girls who are Black on campus. But I chose to date you amidst all of the rumors, hoping that you would not put me to shame, but here you are, doing the exact opposite of what I thought you would do.”“But, Isioma, I have listened to you over and over again.”“Kent, I’m breaking up with you. You and I aren’t the same: you are never going to understand what racism or systematic racism is. Your people — they are rich, considered first in society. I’m not sure I can say the same for mine. And what’s worse is: Now, you —a White man— are saying the word.”Kent smirked. “Isioma you are overreacting; it’s just a word.”. `.She didn’t utter a word. Instea
Houston Reels DAYLIGHT
“Good Morning, Isioma. How are you today? You are looking as radiant as ever”, he added as he stared down her hips and winked. “I am doing very well. Thank you, sir.” She responded as quickly as possible; she didn’t want to start her day with someone making moves at her, and not even someone now — her boss. She felt uncomfortable with the stare. But she was becoming used to it. She made a quick run, or walk to her office Isioma’s office was on the fourth floor, adjacent to Mr. Ross’ which was not so much of a distance from the elevator. Now, Mr. Ross was a good-looking, leanly-muscled, dark-skinned bald, chiseled-shouldered African-American man. He ticked the box of Isioma’s list: he was good-looking, he was rich, he was smart, he had a good smile, a clean and white set of teeth, and dark skin. Not to mention that he has African Ancestry too. But Isioma was never attracted to him. For one, she knew and had accepted that he was her boss. She engaged with him in a boss-worker capaci
Houston Reels THE FIRST CALL
In a normal work setting, particularly in Marshmello Printing Press, it was very unusual for her boss, Mr. Mike Ross to send for a worker unprovoked. There had to be a reason. Isioma and Mr. Ross had not spoken much lately. There had to be a reason for this. Why did he send for me? Have I done anything wrong to him? What could be the reason for the sudden call? He never calls me.She decided to voice out exactly what and how she felt. “Is everything okay? Did he tell you that there was anything wrong? I know you are his secretary; you should know better when anything is wrong. Do you think I did anything wrong? Rania, are you sure there is nothing because it is very unusual for him to send for me.” Rania, for a second, stood confused. Why did Isioma think it was okay for her to ask such questions? Was she a mind-reader that would know what exactly her boss thought? How was she supposed to know why their boss called? Even if she did, did Isioma expect her to disclose information? Fo
Houston Reels EMPTY
Today was Isioma’s day off of work. She mostly had Thursdays off except in rare situations when she needed to do some ghost-writing, or when she needed to be at work. It was in the brochure and contractual terms she had signed before her employment in Marshmello Printing press. Isioma woke up in the early hours of the morning, Her alarm clock beeped twice, and after the third time of snoozing it, the courage to finally face her enveloped her at about eight in the morning.As she would do before commencing her day, she went down on her knees to pray.“Thank you, Lord Jesus, for today. That I am alive today is not because it is not by my power that I am here today but because you love and chose me and I do not take it for granted. Thank you for loving me because without your love I do not know where I would be today. Your grace, your love has kept me this far to be very honest.”While she prayed, she was interrupted by her phone’s ring tone. It beeped. Today was the day she set for her
Houston Reels HAIR
Stepping out in a red gown with blue sequins, Isioma was ready for her off-day. She had made arrangements to visit the spa and get some groceries from the market. It was a free day and she had already checked her mail to make sure that nothing was disturbing her work-free, stress-free day.On this very day, Isioma decided to take the train. It was something she loved to do on days like this. For some reason, it made her feel alive, bright, young, and free. Taking the cab, or even ordering an Uber ride or even Taxify felt like too much automatism, which on days like this, she was trying to avoid.At the train station, she sat a man who would not stop talking about the headlines in the newspaper he was reading. A man who one can presume to be in his late forties, with his chin containing hair sparsely scattered, containing very scanty strands of hair that can hardly be referred to as a beard. “I cannot imagine why the price of gas keeps increasing, and our income every month
Houston Reels Untouchable
Isioma Ejiofor wrote in her daily journal: material things cannot get you every girl,Some girls know their worth. You might bring the fanciest cars, you might take me to the highest mountains. But it might never be enoughMiss Tony Hair Salon was one of the best places in Houston, Texas. Isioma had read about it on one of the famous blogs she frequented during her less busy days. It was one of the most visited hair salons in the whole of Texas. They offered facial treatment, hair care, manicure, and pedicure, makeup services amongst others. Sometimes, the men who followed their wives to the salon would use two stones to kill a bird. The men, defying all odds of masculinity, would get their feet washed and their faces taken care of. Upon entry, one could almost assume it to be a unisex salon.After Nicky greeted her, she proceeded to sit on a wooden chair. Nicky was an Afro-Indian woman who owns could presume to be in her late thirties. She had a few Nicky Tony owned and ran the salo
Houston Reels Hunger
Looking up, Isioma saw a man who was almost if not a little bit taller than her. He was stretching a few dollar notes towards Isioma in a bid to pay for her hair, but Isioma would want none of that. She was financially buoyant and could afford to pay for her two hundred dollars box braids.“Thank you for the offer, but I have this one covered,” Isioma said, turning down the offer she had received from the man. “I insist please let me pay for it,” the man pleaded. Isioma finally gave in to her hair being paid for by a stranger.“Thank you,” Isioma said with a smile on her face. Her smile was as broad as that of a little child who had just been blessed by secret Santa.Usually, when men like that helped women, it often came with a price. Their mentality was always a mentality of nothing goes for nothing. If they scratched your back, you had to scratch theirs in turn. But his case was very much different. He paid for the hair, waved his palm halfway, and walked away.Isioma was thankf
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