In this memory, I’m about four. At my grandmother’s house, I stand in front of my elder cousin’s room. The sun is already high up in the sky and I want to play with her, but she is still deep asleep. Her room is as dark as night, and she doesn’t respond even when I enter her room and stand beside her.
My aunt is calling her name from the kitchen. Her voice thunders through the corridor and shakes the door behind me, but my cousin continues to sleep. She doesn’t even stir.
“What on earth, is she still asleep?” My grandmother passes by in her farming clothes, rolling her eyes in disbelief.
And I stand there and wait for my cousin to wake up. This is the daily scene we all repeat.