Òyì nke e mepụtara

My sister stood up at our mother’s funeral and announced her engagement. People clapped. I just sat there, staring at the ring on her finger, realizing she wasn’t grieving our mother at all. She thought she had won. What she didn’t know was that in my purse I had our mother’s old phone. And on that phone was a voicemail of her threatening a dying woman over the house she wanted. She used our mother’s funeral to steal the spotlight. I used her own voice to destroy the lie.