CHAPTER 10

Home; my safest, most comfortable place in the world. My family welcomed me like nothing ever happened. I guess we were all trying to act strong for each other. My mom had cooked my favorite food, and I had my favorite snacks before dinner. It was a great day to be back. They were happy to see me, and they missed me the same way I had missed them. 

The time difference was vivid. I slept when they were awake, and I was awake when they were sleeping. My close relatives came to see me and all I told them were the good things about the USA, although I didn't actually experience them. I surely enjoyed the hamburgers and chicken sandwiches though, so I made that the headline. I could see the looks in their eyes, looks of envy. They envied me for living the life of their dreams, and I couldn't tell them that it was still a dream for me too. 

So, apparently, my parents hadn't told anybody about the real reason why I came back. And that brought me to a realization over why they didn't want me to come back home. It was out of humiliation. They didn't want our family to be humiliated. When I left for the States, everybody wished they were us. There was a level that my parents ascended to just because their child was living in the United States of America. Being back means they'd descend. The kind of respect people showed them would disappear.

My mom once told me that it was my words that made them see that it was better to be humiliated than losing your child. I was home and I was okay. Our life wasn't perfect, but we were happy. I was happy. I actually laughed and smiled genuinely for the first time in a year. There was finally light in my tunnel.

…

Our financial situation was still saddening, but we always managed to find a way to survive. My dad was working extra hard, but his efforts were in vain still. His family wasn't helpful at all. They couldn't take a minute to actually support us, except for my two uncles. They did give me some pocket money from time to time. I was reunited with my friends and little by little I forgot about America. 

All my friends were now sophomores. I was kind of jealous but cheering them on. I knew my time would come. And so, I began searching for universities in Europe and Mauritius. I didn't want to be a freshman again in Tanzania and obviously I had no wish of going back to the USA. I had found some great universities in Germany, Switzerland and Mauritius, but the application process was more than complicated. 

My family was with me shoulder to shoulder, but deep down they all wanted me to go back to America and try again. I didn't want to hear anything about it. 

…

My sister, Linda, was getting married. She and I grew up together like blood-related siblings, and like all sisterly relationships, we hated each other before. She had huge breasts and was kind of thick. I was skinny and taller. She'd wear my clothes and loosen them, and before I could find out, she'd destroy them by either burning them or tearing them to shreds. She got on my last nerve.

As a revenge, I'd investigate all her juicy messes and tell it all to our parents. She got an earful, and it enraged her. That was a joyful sight for me. 

Her mother was my mom's older sister. She died in 1996, before I was born, and my mom adopted Linda. When I was born, she was already part of our family, and I found out that we weren't blood siblings later on in life. I know we're actually cousins, but she'll always be my beautiful sister. 

In 2017, my aunt, mom's oldest sister, had invited us to spend a day at her farmhouse far in the countryside. She also invited her friends and their families. Everyone was so excited for that family time together. We arrived. Women got to the kitchen and men handled the drinks. Lunch was served at noon. My aunt thought she'd use that time to introduce her family to her friends. Mind you, we were like 30 people all together. 

My aunt began by introducing her own husband and children. After that, she introduced our family. 

"This is my little sister, Silla, her husband Mr. Kaya, and her 3 children: Linda, Mark and Jenara _", 

"Excuse me.", Linda interrupted.

She had managed to grab everybody's attention.

"She's not my mother.", Linda announced, "My mother died back in 1996.".

We were sitting outside, but we couldn't even hear the sound of the wind. The awkwardness was too loud. I could smell a strong stench of embarrassment hovering, and I could clearly see the pain in my parents' eyes. Linda, on the other hand, didn't seem to care much. She proceeded downing a whole glass of soda she had in her hand. The whole mood changed after that.

***