Author: Jessica Chukwu
She does not want children
This feels contradictory
Mutually exclusive as if “she” and this particular desire cannot exist at the same time
She knows it’s religion not God that makes this phrase feel
The way it does
uneasy, as if something is out of order
a man would hear what I want and say “that’s out of order”
a woman would hear what I want and say “that’s out of order”
so I guess I’m out of orders
out of rules and restrictions
out of a need to think beyond myself, I guess I don’t have the woman “gene” or conviction
a contradiction
I am a postmodern woman, I have nothing to say to tradition.
it’s Christmas time, the room’s aroma is rich with jollof rice and chicken. My family are gathered around while “fresh prince” plays on the tv. We are laughing, conversing and catching up. A quick fire round of charades begins, the music blasting on speakers soon follows. The afro beats of the early 2000s take us back to our childhood. We sink deeper into the evening. Eating our sugar filled deserts. My aunty starts asking us about our goals, our future, what we think our families will be like, how many children we want. All of us are sitting in a circle like shape, the most intimate where the warmest conversations are born. The cousins are answering, response range from 2 to 5, we are laughing at each other’s answers and envisioning our cousins as parents.
As the gentle laughter dies down again so the next person can speak
I see that the next person is me.
I’m uncomfortable but they don’t know.
I blink and look at my aunty extra hard, maintaining eye contact, willing my eyes to waver so she will know I don’t want to answer. When this quickly failed I prayed to Gaia and hoped some womanly instinct would tell her to move on.
She doesn’t. So, I lie “I don’t know maybe 2 or 3, my aunty shoots a smile my way, nods and moves on to my little sister.
My answer was distant. Impersonal.
“How many children do you want?”, enquiring about secondary desires when you have already gotten my primary desire incorrect.
“How many children do you want?” the question preceding that, whether I even want children is already answered for me and I must accept it.
“How many children do you want?” a question that would like me to speak, a question that silences me.
So, I cannot.
often
a woman is seen as a mother in waiting.
I am a woman, content.
