comments 2

Story setting 70’s


Twaambo smoothed her short skirt over her thighs, her Afro looked exactly like Diana Ross in the poster over the dresser in the room she shared with her two sisters.They were away today and so she could get ready in peace.The radio was blasting Minnie Rippertons ‘Lovin you’, she felt lovely, she felt beautiful.She felt ready to love like the song said.Would being in love make her belt those high notes too?
“Its a great day to be alive in 1975!” she said to her reflection.

There was a knock at the door.She sighed.Her father stood on the other side, a smile on his face.
“You look nice.” He observed.
“Thank you” she smiled. She stepped back into the room, quickly turning Minnie into a low hum.
“Now, Twaambo, you’re my oldest daughter.Letting you go to this disco is a decision your mother and I made together.We trust you.I agree with you, there is no way we are going to keep you from interacting with girls…and boys your age” He had stumbled a little over the word ‘boy’s’.
His daughter was beautiful, looked just like her mother.He also had a double barrel shotgun, but he knew with little Miss Sassy here he wouldn’t need it.

“Is that Minnie Ripperton?” He asked gingerly sitting on one of the beds.He always felt like a bull in a china shop in here.Girls were so different!Last time he had sat on a bed in here he had sat on some precious eyeliner.The sulking that had ensued from his middle daughter had been ..irritating.
“Yes, I can play The Witch if you would like” she smiled at her father. He did his best to expose them to a life so much bigger,wider and different from their life here in little Zambia. He had taken them all to see some art being made at Evelyn hone college, some works by a guy called Tayali.His peers often chided him for filling his children’s heads with too many dreams.What was art?They needed to concentrate on becoming teachers  or nurses!
Today though, today she would be going to the hall at YWCA for a dance. A DANCE! It was not too far away from their house but oh how excited she was!
She was itching to get her platforms on and head out the door.She knew though she needed to let Daddy do his little talk before she could go.She also needed money for some soft drinks too.
“No, no you don’t have to play any of my rock music.”
He silently handed her some coins.
This one.This headstrong sassy daughter.His African headstrong daughter.She would go places.But first she needed to learn more about herself no matter what their traditions dictated.This could go very very wrong.
He was also about to send her to university.She needed not to be so starry eyed over boys right now.
As she took the money she curtsied respectfully as per tradition.He got up.He didn’t need to say more.
He left the room humming a few bars of ‘Rhine stone cowboy’. Where would they be without the BBC?
Twaambo closed the door with a click. She hurriedly slipped on the platforms.
“Its a great day to be alive in 1975!”

*Challenge for today was to write a short story set in the seventies.

Share this post!Share on TumblrTweet about this on TwitterEmail this to someoneBuffer this pageShare on Google+Share on FacebookShare on LinkedIn


  1. From this story, that really did sound like a great time to be alive. This was a great story in how it revealed the protectiveness of your father. Most fathers have the protective barrier, but time proves they can’t stop what is natural.

  2. Hey Lashuntrice! No they cannot 🙂
    I hope this is something that we remember when its time with our own children! Thanks for stopping by!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *