Chasing river, p.39
Chasing River, page 39
“You mean like you?” Jaadi wondered.
“Just like me,” River affirmed and Armani couldn’t help but giggle.
“We don’t compare human beings to animals!” Armani’s mother scolded. “Jaadi you’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“Sorry, mama.” Jaadi quipped, holding his hands up in surrender.
“And what do we say?” Her mother asked,
“Sorry Uncle.” Jaadi apologised.
“You can just call me River if you want, you know?” River suggested with a smile. “You don’t have to be so formal with me.”
“It’s in our culture out of respect, baby you’ll always be his uncle.” Armani reminded River.
“The coolest uncle!” Jaadi assured him reaching for a high five and River returned the gesture, his heart was so full knowing that he had a whole new family to love and care for him, to welcome him. “Are we still going to visit the train station after, just you and I? No girls allowed?”
“Am I supposed to leave behind even my favourite girl?” River questioned teasingly.
“My sister? Yeah, we’re ditching her!” Jaadi protested and I laughed.
“It’s alright you boys go ahead without me, mama and I will go to the spa and have a day out,” Armani told them, and her mother smiled at her.
Slowly but surely, she was able to build a better relationship with her mother, both of them making a conscious effort to understand the other and where they were coming from. It was a lot on her mother’s part, to have to unlearn a mindset that was taught to her, to let go of even the harsher parts of her culture. But she was able to do so, for the sake of her daughter’s happiness. To learn to see Armani, not as an extension of herself, but as her own person. There is a reason why doctors insist that a parent be the one to cut the umbilical cord when a child is born; to help engrain the fact in their minds that while that child is theirs that they had a body and mind of their own.
“Can I get my picture now?” Armani wondered, tilting her head to the side with a smile, “Keomi and Gene are blowing up my phone begging for photos from this trip.”
“Smile for the camera.” Jaadi called out, “Feed the elephant River!”
River smiled, the brightest Armani had ever seen that day, capturing the perfect shot of her family together now, and trusting that they’d be together always.
“Does he know yet?” Armani’s mother turned to ask her.
“About what?” Armani played along,
“That you’ve been eating for two this entire trip?” Her mother smiled.
“How did you know?” Armani smiled,
“A mother knows these things.” Her mother assured her, stroking her hair.
“He will soon, he’s very intuitive.” Armani pointed out.
Two years later, somewhere in Greece
Armani watched in the Mirror as River massaged oils into her scalp and she sighed deeply in relief, he was always so good at it. He then reached for an Afro comb and gently moved it through her thick curls, it never hurt when he did it, everything about him was always so very gentle.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you okay, love?” She asked her.
“You never do.” She assured him and he smiled, shaking his head slowly.
“Don’t you have to oversee some things over at the academy today my love?” Armani asked.
“I’ll do so tomorrow, today I want to spend it with my favourite girls,” River told her and she rolled her eyes playfully at him.
“You don’t even know if this one’s going to be a girl yet?” She reminded him.
“I know but I can sense it,” River assured her.
“You want to be a girl dad so bad!” She chuckled.
“I was born to be exactly that.” He affirmed, “Don’t you think?”
“True.” Armani smiled as he wrapped his arm around her waist placing his palm over her belly.
“Hi, sweet girl.” He whispered. “I can’t wait to meet you.”
“It’s so odd…” Armani mentioned,
“What is?” River asked,
“It’s like having you living inside of me.” Armani explained to him, “You quite literally breathed life into me.”
“I did, didn't I?” He held her gaze, just then they heard the sound of familiar tiny feet padding across the hallway as the door swung open and a little baby boy with bright blue eyes, a face full of freckles, warm brown skin and long curly hair walked into the room holding a box of beads and string.
“There you are Rain!” Armani chuckled.
“Hi, mommy! Papa, pick colours!” The child asked tugging at River’s sleeve.
“Of course petit lumière.” Little light, River agreed to choose the blue, purple and pink ones, Armani smiled because she knew why he chose those. “These.”
“Pretty, wanna make it now.” Rain told his parents, just as Armani pulled him onto her lap. “Hey!”
“You can make papa’s bracelet while I braid your hair, my sweet,” Armani told him, beginning to knit cornrows as the child frowned adorably.
“Are you excited to be a big brother Rain?” River asked,
“Yes!” Rain answered, he was getting good at talking lately. He was always a quiet baby, very introverted just like his father, he also happened to look a lot more like River than Armani. The blue eyes were a shock to everyone at first, but that unwavering kindness, that smile…it was all hers. “Here daddy!”
“Thank you.” River accepted, allowing Rain to slide the beaded bracelet onto his wrist, and he never once took it off, “It’s very beautiful.”
And it was then that one would realise that that was exactly who they were at their core, and who they were destined to be, a family bursting with colour who turned ashes into beautiful things.
A Letter From The Author
If you've made it this far all the way from front to back I would like to first off say a massive thank you for sticking with me until the very end.
Admittedly, Chasing River is more River's story than Armani's despite her being the main character, It is a story with purposely flawed characters, and Armani represents the catalyst to which all their stories and secrets were to be brought to light.
For those unaware I wrote this story when I was only thirteen years old, I am seventeen now as I write this to you from the comfort of my living room right here in Zambia. I originally wrote this story to have an American main character with blonde hair and blue eyes, I had written a story about a girl who looked absolutely nothing like me with experiences that were far from my own. All of this changed when my mother said to me that I should always write what I would want to read, and reminded me that a story is no good if it is not authentic to oneself. I recall being made to watch a video in my 9th grade English class from the author Chimamada Ngozi Adiche that spoke of the dangers of hearing a single story and how that gives people a narrow view of an entire group of people.
Growing up I looked at the list of new york times best selling novels and never saw any with main characters from places like where I came from and it broke my heart and unknowingly conditioned me to only write about what I thought it was others wanted. To write about girls who tied their hair up in messy buns, went to starbucks after school and went to the beach. All of these things that I have never experienced myself. Chasing River will always be a very special book to me, not only because it really bonded my best friend and I at the time but because it was the very first book that was authentic to who I was. I wanted to write a story about African women just being loved, so effortlessly, because that is truly what we all deserve. River and Armani will always be very special characters to me, they will always live on in my heart and I know that as they live on in yours…they will never die. Perhaps the only way to attain immortality is to be a storyteller, to leave a piece of yourself behind. And so I leave you all with this; never be afraid to take up space, your story matters and deserves to be told.
There's actually another book that comes before this that I wrote when I was twelve called CROSS MY HEART which is River's parents Sebastien and Violette's story, maybe someday I'll share that one with you as well. I hope to share all my stories with you all someday, I have so many to tell and who knows? maybe by the time you're reading this Chasing River will be a new york times bestseller and topping the charts. I know that it will someday, someday soon.
Love,
Munema.
Acknowledgments
I would, first , of all, like to thank my Wattpad readers for being there for me first, this one is for all of you who believed in me before anyone else did. I would like to thank my best friend Dashelle for having stayed up late tireless nights with me plotting the idea for this story while we were in high school, there would be no River Kennedy without you. I want to thank my beta readers and my friend Khadeeja for taking the time to format the cover for this story, to thank Leah for drawing the beautiful cover art, I hope everyone everywhere all around the world can see how talented you truly are. Thank you to Jess, oklee, Angelina and Delia for the inner art-work. I want to thank Stray Kids for making music that carried me through the toughest time in my life at which I was publishing this story, thank you for making sure I believed in myself enough to know that I could do this. Thank you to my sisters for listening to me rant about this story day in and day out tirelessly. Thank you to my friend Marvin for quite literally just always being there and checking in on me every step of the way.
And lastly, the biggest thank you to thirteen-year-old Nema who gave this book her all, I am here because of the sacrifices you made. 5 years later, allow me to reassure you that you did it, everyone is so proud of you, & I am so proud of you.
About Author
Munema Chawanzi Sakala is a teen author from Lusaka, Zambia who has been writing novels since she was eleven years old. She hopes to someday see the ocean, experience snowfall & visit France just as she wrote about in her debut novel Chasing River. She hates coffee but drinks it anyway, loves Taylor Swift, Phoebe Bridgers, Gracie Abrams & Stray Kids. And thinks of her readers as her very best friends.
M.C Sakala, Chasing River
