More than enough

er mother, Sade, always said it was a strange kind of morning-too quiet for a house tha

t, but you could feel the tension. Everyone held their breath... until she let out the

ant more than one thing in Yoruba, depending on who was translating. Her father, Baba Tunde, said she

ers were cold in July. She'd cough sometimes, for no clear reason, then stop. It was easy to miss at first. Poor people dont

came th

hat sat on her like a wet cloth. And her lips would turn the wrong sha

. Not the private kind, obviously. A place with peeling wal

rt, almost casual phrase that would end

er blink

was saying the sky was b

se, no. Just the trai

oo fast. Baba Tunde didn't say much at all. He just stared at the wall,

s dangerous. People live with it. Thrive even. But when it comes to relationships, marriage, children... that's where it gets complicated. If t

ugh to scare people. Enough to turn l

now anything about genes or society or stigma. All she knew was the wa

t how hard thi

even