The Adoptive First Daughter
[Probably the corniest thing I’ve ever written. Lool]; Orignally a post in my first ever — now defunct — blog, IDEASmi. Written, 18th September, 2013.
A heavy percentage of these kind of stories are not plausible, and about nine-tenths of them are not even within a range of possibility. I say a range because I do not refer to a particular thing- I refer to all; and that, by common sense, infers that they do not, absolutely, fall in. Anywhere.
But the story is told among, well, those who care, about an African American lady named Beria. Nobody knew her surname because she wouldn’t disclose. In fact, nobody knew much about her, partly due to her inane craving for the violent, and partly — majorly — due to the fact that she was indisputably and outrageously wealthy, without reason.
Many suspect she was the long lost cousin of the then First Daughter of the United States … There’s no such thing as a First Daughter, mind you, because the world hasn’t found use for such words yet. Again, the president of the USA had two daughters- which one would be First Daughter?
That very string of words was coined exclusively by her, and history had it that the first day an outsider set eyes on the little piece of note where the phrase was written was the selfsame day the artier found the elusive connection between her wealth, her strange name, her cravings, her lack-of-a-surname, and finally, her connection with the American nation.
She’d resided in Kano State when the note was written. It was to be submitted as an entry for the 2013 etisalat flash fiction competition- not for money, for she had spoil till it ran over, but because she wanted to show a gratitude. A gratitude, because it was to be one of many.
The connection lay on the title of her piece- “The Gratitude from Me, Lye-Beria, to my adoptive First Cousin, Nye-Geria.”
