Nigeria Jones by Ibi Zoboi EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Author: Ibi Zoboi
- Language: English
- Genre: Teen & Young Adult Fiction on Prejudice
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
My baby brother’s name is Freedom, and today is his first birthday. I hold
him in my arms real tight and sniff his little head. He smells like Mama—a
mix of patchouli and lavender oils that cover up the scent of places I don’t
know, faces I can’t name, and secrets I don’t remember. We’re fifteen years
apart and he’s not even walking yet, but it still feels like he could leave us,
too.
We’ve rented out the community center over on Spruce Street for the
birthday party, but it’s not called a birthday party. In the Movement, nothing
is ever that superficial. It’s a gratitude celebration marking the one-year
anniversary that Freedom Sankofa Jones chose us as his family. My father
says that some African souls return over and over again to make things
right, to heal generational wounds, and to fight for our liberation. We
choose our parents, our families, and the lives we want to live before we are
even born.
So I am a returning ancestor and I chose to be the daughter of Kofi
Sankofa—the Black nationalist, revolutionary freedom fighter, and founder
of the Movement, whose mission is to divest from oppressive systems and
create an all-Black utopia. My baby brother did, too, and the members are
coming together today to thank the baby king for choosing us.
The air in here is thick and warm even though the AC is on full blast.
The aunties had smudged every corner with sage, and the scent lingers
along with nag champa incense and all the different natural oils the
members have on. Most of us are wearing colorful African print clothes and
head wraps. When the members start coming in, a sea of braids, locs, afros,
wooden beads, and cowrie shells will extend out to each wall of the
community center. My father says that we’re like a small African West
Philly village in the big, white state of Pennsylvania. And it definitely feels
that way, even though some people think we’re a cult. Mama always says
that the word “cult” comes from culture. We’re just proudly celebrating our
culture, that’s all.
“Put that baby down!” my father calls out from across the room.
“You’re gonna spoil him.” His deep voice is rolling thunder, his presence is
parting clouds, and whatever words come out of his mouth today will be the
sun shining on every member. He’s moving about like a hurricane, putting
the Youth Group to work, and I’m the only one who doesn’t have to do
anything because I’m holding my baby brother.
Freedom fidgets, babbles, and reaches for the floor, so I bounce him in
my arms, shush him, and kiss him on the cheek, refusing to let him go.
Even though this community center will be filled with people I love and
who love me back, my eyes are glued to the front door, waiting for the
person I want to see most in this world right now.
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