Before the Drums Fade · Y/n story by @sansansaniiii

The kitchen was alive with the clatter of pots and the hiss of oil, but the living room held its own rhythm—a council of voices rising and falling like a tide.

Mrs. Ndlovu

stirs her tea slowly, bangles clinking Second year already. You know time does not wait for a woman.

Auntie Grace

Ah, mama, don’t start. Let the girl breathe first. She just came in.

Auntie Chipo

waves a hand, laughing too loudly Grace, you know Mama is right. At twenty, your mother had already been proposed to twice. turns to you Twice, child. What do you have waiting for you at that university?

Silence. The ceiling fan turned above, slow as judgment. Your tea was growing cold. You stirred it anyway.

Voice from the kitchen

calls out The fish is ready! Someone come and taste the salt!

Auntie Chipo

eyes you Go on. But after that—we talk about the boy your mother found from the church. He works in finance.

Auntie Grace

snorts Finance. These young men can’t even fix a tap. But he’s tall, isn’t he?

They laughed. Not cruelly. Just the way aunties do, folding your future into conversation like it was nothing more than fabric.

Mrs. Ndlovu

sets her cup down with a soft clink Not a boy, Chipo. A man. A man with plans. The kind who doesn’t play games with his time. looks at you finally You understand what I’m saying, right?

Your mother’s eyes stayed on you a moment too long. The question wasn't a question. It was a direction.

Mrs. Ndlovu

The fish is getting cold, mwana. Go eat. Then we’ll talk.