Klynic

"S haron, Sharon..." my mother often called my English name twice when she wanted to talk to me about boys. Other times she would stick to "Chiwendu." That Saturday morning was not any different. I had just returned from a family friend's birthday party and was smiling up the stairs when my English name rang twice from the sitting room. "Sharon, Sharon," my mum called out. I rolled my eyes and dragged my skirt a little lower towards my knees to avoid drawing too much attention to how short they were, and it wasn't like mummy could care less about that. I sauntered into the room and sat down, taking in the usual long tales of boys and parties and what life in the university would be like. "Her sermons about boys became more intense when my dad won her in our small family court, which consisted of dad, mom, and me. He insisted that I attend a university that wasn't very close to our house, saying, 'She needs to learn to live without us