Immigrant Stories | ohpeter.com

Immigrant Stories

Ramiya II

The second time i met Ramiya, there were no fireworks. There were, however, tiny adrenaline worms crawling up my veins when she texted me “i’m in class. let you know when i get out”. I should have been watching straight outta Compton with the guys at Yorkdale but this was definitely more important in the schedule of things. let me… Read more →

Stacey

Summer 2015 Intense. That’s the way it felt to breathe the same air with Stacy. Church had closed. I’d led worship that day and I took my guitar and amp to church. i didn’t feel too happy because for some reason the mixer wouldn’t pick the guitar signal. And my church folks really aren’t used to distorted guitars (they kept… Read more →

Reader’s Block

Is this a joke?   Nope, really, I have reader’s block. I simply can’t read. It doesn’t matter how amazing the book is, all of a sudden i’ve noticed that I’ve come to dread words on paper. I have this amazing book by Haruki Murakami…now wait, I said Amazing because Michael Ogah and Onyeka Nwelue say he is, and some of Murakami’s… Read more →

Ramiya

Summer, 2015. I woke up from sleep with a chill and a headache. I dressed up, popped an icebreaker into my mouth, pulled on my old sweater. I was going to have exams the next day so I went to the library to study (my room gets too comfortable sometimes, haha) .As I walked out i noticed everyone else was… Read more →

Salem

Summer, 2015. 3 months after the spring meltdown. 3 months after the kevlar that guarded people’s personalities fell off. 3 months after the bikinis and shorts popped out; and the boys showed off their summer bodies (bodies ripped so impossibly perfect that I would need to sleep in the gym  for 3 years to look like that). I thought the… Read more →

Dear Ivy

Dear Ivy,   I am under serious pressure as I write you this. Pressure from my skull trying to cave in on itself, pressure from the need to not explode. Pressure from the heightened beatings of my heart, pressure from my fingers running faster than my hands.   I have known you for about 3 years, (though as you said,… Read more →

Lisa

All the writing advice I’ve read always warn: Never start a story by describing the weather. But this story won’t make any sense if i didn’t begin from the weather. For months, North York has been covered in snow. But 3 weeks ago the snow melted and the spring breeze chilled the place for a while. Then slowly, but surely,… Read more →

What Brume Said

Brume. This guy i admire in my class because the lowest grade he’s ever got in school was an A- .  He happens to be Nigerian and that’s a real comfort when I’m sitting in a class full of Chinese, Scandinavian and the odd Canadian. Weird thing is, even though I’ve known him for four months, last night was the… Read more →

Subway

Today I managed to squeeze onto the subway . I’ve always imagined myself above the hoipolloi, preferring expensive taxis to riding the crowded rush hour trains where I’d lose all connectivity for a terrifying 30 minutes. But today is different. Today I’ve lost my wallet and the only way I can get it back is to go to the Bay… Read more →

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