The last memory I had of Ba’ami was when he triedto touch the little lumps on my chest, I pushed him away, ‘I will tell’ were thelast words I said to him before myfeet took me to ma’ami who wasboiling steeping mauve coloured dryleaves at the backyard, I told her about the thrusting and immoral touching I get from ba’ami when she’snot around. She took a knife with her inside andI heard a loud scream, I dashed inside and saw zobo dripping from ma’ami’s knife and Ba’ami lifeless in a pool of zobo


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