The Girl with Bronze in her Ears

The Girl with Bronze in her Ears

The first thing that attracted me to her was her earrings. Now, I know most people of this confused generation probably think that this is the worst thing I could have ever admitted; worse than admitting that I secretly ogle half- naked people sunbathing at Central Park, worse than the fact that I have taken up smoking despite what the Federal Ministry of Health says, worse than all the horrors that plague the world daily…
I can already see all the feminists in the world getting their skirts in a twist over the fact that I was attracted to a woman’s jewelry rather than her brain or heart. They will ponder over what a sexist i must be to value a woman by her baubles. If I ever successfully finish this PHD and get to publish a book, they will tell women all over the world to boycott my book.
The world is a weird place these days- compounded by feminists, ageists, racists, activists and etcetra. But I digress from my story…
It was her earrings. They were made of bronze and when she laughed, they laughed along with her, vibrating as her body shook with laughter. They hung from her ears like frozen waterfalls and for a moment all i wanted to do was take them in my mouth till the ice melted. She would tell me later that she found them at a flea market in Brooklyn.
Our first date involved walking from booth to booth at the said flea market the very next Saturday after we met. I could not take my eyes off her as she oohed and aahed over wares from around the world. There were calabashes that looked like my Grandmother’s back home in Odogbolu. There was cloth from Thailand and handwoven mats from Peru. Everywhere we turned, the world greeted us. I caught a glipsme into her heart everytime she stopped to pet a dog or smile at a child. The earrings drew me but it was that heart, carefree and beautiful, that kept me.
I knew I was in love with her when my grandmother died and the tears failed to cease. The girl with the bronze earrings held me while I mourned. She put me to bed with lemon tea. The lemon tea tasted more like fish oil than tea but I was in love and she could do no wrong.
We moved in together into a one bedroom apartment in Harlem and made love every day. The next door neighbor’s child was two and the walls in the builing were thin. He kept us up on many nights and so the girl with bronze in her ears would read me excerpts from her best loved books till i fell in love with them as well. Things fall apart, A Prayer for Owen Meany, An African Child, Trials of Brother Jero…
One day in winter, she stopped reading those books and got herself a cookbook instead. We had to learn to entertain, she said. I came home one day and Things fall Apart and An African Child were missing from our bedside table. She would tell me later she got 3 dollars for them from the thrift shop down the road. She replaced them with books on business etiquette and grooming. She got a job on Wall Street and gave away the earrings. There was no place for them in that concrete corporate jungle. We stopped going to the flea market and resorted to Saks and Bloomingdales for every other thing. We moved out of Harlem and the child that kept us awake at night cried even harder when he saw the movers packing up our things.
The girl with bronze in her ears got pregnant and our child died on the cold steel table of some surgery room. There was no place in her career for a child or the joy and sleepless nights it would bring.
I wept for two nights and dreamed of my grandmother.
Last week, I met someone. And yes, it was the earrings again. This time though, the ear rings were made of gold and purchased while the opressive heat of Kano smothered its inhabitants and its winds made their eyes water. She walks me through the sands of her city while we hold hands in the bar. I can almost see the Fulani women and their calabashes of milk and Fura. I can almost taste the dates she tells me will be part of her bride price. I kissed her on Tuesday and felt the warmth of the sun from faraway Kano.She can cook, this wearer of gold earrings. She told me just yesterday that she learned how to from her grandmother and my heart beat faster than it had in a long time. Her books are stained with the ink of the henna that crisscrosses her hands and feet. She will never stop reading, this one.
Her earrings are made of gold. Gold never fades; but the bronze earrings, those ones, they dimmed a long time ago.

30 thoughts on “The Girl with Bronze in her Ears” by Kiah (@kiah)

  1. Couldn’t really undastand it. But twas engaging though.

  2. Ok..I am officially hooked..I love the way you write…
    Change is constant they say but some things do not change for good…
    Beautiful story that I totally get…Well done Kiah…$ß.

    1. thank you. there are supposed to be paragraphs..sigh but word press and its editing problems. i am glad you got it.

  3. From Bronze to Gold, what next, diamond? Lol. Nice write @kiah

  4. First two paragraphs had a lot of fiction on them. Unnecessary

    But, guy, the rest of the story is awesome. I had to read again.

    1. u mean nonfiction…and it was very necessary. thank you for your comment.

  5. How so sad! Every thing in life has seasons and time, they say.
    Bronze earring’s season passed and she moved along seeking for like.

    When your time came for real, serendipity stepped in….here’s to a dream fulfilled with the Fulani gold wearer.
    Truly wonderful!

  6. Tesus! Im crying!! This…this is exquisite! Admin where are you! Have you read this!

  7. This is beautiful, engaging and compelling read…an award winner any day and here and now…an Editor’s Pick!

    Many times we don’t realize the treasure we are and have. Before you know it we up and go; exchanging it for worthless trinkets!

    Bronze earrings didn’t realize her true worth…such a crying shame.

  8. Poetically engaging! Intelligently thought-up! Beautifully written! What more can I say? This is splendid!
    Well done, @kiah

  9. Sunshine (@nicolebassey)

    Lovely, absolutely

  10. there’s something fluid about the way you write and yet deep. love it

  11. @kiah

    This is deep!
    Its fiction that stands as a coagulation of metaphors…a narrative that makes you think…a narrative that opens up more narratives.

    I like the way you wrote it…the ending leaves that aftertaste that lingers long after you’ve finished reading it!

    Its different….I like it!

    1. coming from you…sigh…thank you…

      this was a story i made up after gallivanting around New York for 5 days… it was an amazing experience and i loved it and i love this story because it reminds me of all the amazing things i discovered in NY.

  12. Written like a poet. Very beautiful.
    The tense switch in the last paragraph- Was it deliberate? It kind of jarred the flow of the story a bit when I was reading.

    1. Sorry I meant the second to the last paragraph

      1. hmmm, am reading it and yes it was deliberate…the gold girl is his present and i wanted to work that into the imagery. thanks for pointing it out though, i can possibly work at making it seem present without disturbing the flow.

  13. Ur style is so-so cool…Moving on to better things shey?…Dats some phase, i tell you

  14. I enjoyed this, a lot…not soo much the part where you were beginning to talk about smoking, PhD, sexist n all…but the rest was an awesome read..

    1. aaah but that part is as important as the rest of the story…it is the only insight i give you into the lifestyle and passions of the main character. i am glad you enjoyed the part that you did.

  15. our experiences around the world always helps to fuel our imagination- interesting

  16. Wonderful… Short and sweet, with a little bit of Nostalgia thrown in…
    I like this…

  17. @kiah…got a book? U r enthralling.

    1. many thanks…a book? soon..AMEN! :)

  18. @kiah, you already know how I feel about your posts so…

    I totally get this and I love it.

    Well done girl. You definitely pack a punch in your short pieces.

    1. muchos gracias :)

  19. too bad me didnt see thiz earlier…I LIKED!

  20. Lovely, top to bottom!

  21. Gold truly never fades…Like Gold may all our dreams stay alive. Lovely!

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