The London call went fine. But after hanging up, she looked around her “home.” White leather couch. Italian marble floors. A fridge that dispenses ice cubes shaped like diamonds. It was beautiful. It was also a gilded cage.
“ Ebiere! The little one who ran away to the white man’s school!” “I didn’t run away, Mama,” Ebiere said, her voice breaking. “I just… left.” Evi Edna Ogholi - No Place Like Home
One year later, Evi Edna Ogholi’s song played on a crackling radio in Kporghor village. The cassette was ancient, the lyrics scratched, but the message was clear: The London call went fine