Imole
TW // homophobia, suicide
Imole’s parents had all but given up when they found out something was growing in her mum’s belly. They tried not to get too excited about it. They hoped with everything in their hearts that this one would stay.
They decided not to pick a name this time. They did not want to add a new name to their list of babies never born.
“Ìmọ́lẹ̀ wọ ‘lé de.” her mum said the first time she held her and they immediately decided that that was going to be her name. It was a fitting name because she indeed brought light into their home.
Her parents loved her very much. She was the perfect child. Smart, friendly, respectful, obedient, and extremely talented.
They always bragged about how amazing she was. About how Imole was studying Mass Communication. About how she was in the choir. About how she had written a new essay. About how she had just sold a painting. Imole this. Imole that.
Imole had always been outstanding, but university was different. For the first time in her life, she was struggling. She had become used to having bad grades, but this semester was terrible. Four Fs. That meant four carryovers. How is that even possible? she wondered.
Two months before this, Imole and her best friend were watching a movie when she kissed her. She was too stunned to react. She eventually kicked her out of her room and began to avoid her.
During that week’s fellowship, the student pastor preached against homosexuality. She felt like he was talking to her. Like he knew what happened. She left in the middle.
Imole kept thinking about the kiss. It awakened something she didn’t know she had in her. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was sinful.
She considered calling her best friend to apologise for throwing her out, but she decided against it. Why should I apologise? She should be the one apologising for kissing me. She prayed instead. She prayed for God to deliver her from the spirit of lesbianism and for Him to forgive her.
Imole had been home for weeks because the school year was over. She was struggling with so many things. Her parents had no idea because she didn’t tell them. She didn’t want to disappoint them. She was the model child. Their light. How was she going to tell them that she was failing so badly and that she was possibly a lesbian? God forbid. I am not a lesbian.
She was supposed to attend a party with her parents, but she told them to go without her. She was tired. She wanted to rest.
They called her on their way home, but she didn’t pick up. Although that was strange, they tried not to worry about it. After all, she said she wanted to rest.
They got back home and were thinking about all the things they were going to tell her. How much she had missed. That so and so person asked about her.
“Imole, we’re back.” they called from the living room.
No answer.
“Imole!”
Still no answer.
“When did Imole start sleeping like this?” her mother asked.
“I wonder.”
“Wo, let’s leave her. She must be very tired.”
They changed out of their party clothes and were watching some documentary about lions.
“This one that Imole has not come outside since, I hope she’s okay.” her father said.
“Let’s go and check her. She usually doesn’t sleep this much. What kind of tiredness is this?”
They stood up and went to her room. Nothing could have prepared them for what was waiting.
Imole had gone and she had taken the light with her.
