Butter Honey Pig Bread

by Francesca Ekwuyasi

  At the next contraction, Kehinde whimpers and collapses back into a crouch. Farouq goes down with her, holding her.

  “Mami.” The painful knot in Kehinde’s abdomen tightens tightens, rigid muscles clenched painfully over many hard needles. Then they loosen. “Where is she?”

  “She’s on a trip to Abeokuta,” Taiye answers. “But she’s with us.” Taiye isn’t sure what she means by that, but she says it, and Kehinde hears it, and it means something to her, too.

  Kehinde inhales and pushes. Inhales and pushes. Inhales and pushes. The conditions are ideal, and her body moves according to its design. The baby begins to slide out of her. Farouq frantically places pillows, sheets, and towels around her.

  And I am here, above them. I recognize the life making its way through my daughter. I recognize Baby’s song. I sigh, relieved that Baby has found a door through which to come. My girls will be all right. My girls will be all right.

  I fly into the open arms of my Kin.

  I rest.

  Acknowledgments

  I AM IMMENSELY GRATEFUL TO MY FAMILY—blood and chosen—for their unwavering love and support. Big love, and thank you, to my grandmother, who often seems to be writing something—letters, queries, etc., and always thought I would write a book one day. Big love to my brother Ike, a fellow storyteller who has always supported my weirdness and challenges me to eschew mediocrity. Big love to my aunties and uncles, and my cousins Chinedu, Ene, Kiki, and Ichukwu. Big love to my dear friends Hannah, Biyi, Monika, Carmel, Alanna, Frank, Wren, Marshall, Christine, Neil, Portia, Patricia, Arielle, Leanne, Adanna, and Seyi—thank you for witnessing, listening to, and encouraging me throughout the process of writing this book. Massive thank-yous to the incredibly supportive team at Arsenal Pulp: Brian, Jazmin, Cynara, Jaiden, and Doretta. Thank you, Shirarose, for your patient guidance throughout the editing process; I sincerely appreciate your support from beginning to end. Immense gratitude to the incredibly generous folks who read and blurbed this novel: Kai Cheng Thom, Zeba Blay, Canisia Lubrin, Tanaïs, and Catherine Hernandez. Thank you, Enrique Ferreol and Arts Nova Scotia, for the generous Arts Equity Funding Initiative Grant that allowed me to do some research required to make this book what it is. Thank you to GUTS magazine, the Malahat Review, Winter Tangerine, Vol. 1 Brooklyn, and Transition Magazine for publishing my short fiction over the last few years, thus giving me the confidence to carry on writing. And thank you to the baristas and bartenders at the many cafés and bars where I wrote portions of this book.