Oware

I beat my sister at Oware today
in two hours of nearly untroubled silence.

As children,
we didn't see eye to eye often.

She insisted our dolls should have
perfectly brushed straight hair.
I learned to use scissors.

She wanted to sleep on the top bed.
I claimed it first!

I learned how to use a lighter.
She got burned.

We were both afraid of the dark.
I came up with a monster under the bed.
[we called it 'Mrs. Wig']

As children,
we were regularly warned by the father

we wouldn't be let into the world
if we didn't make peace with each other.

We were grounded for years,
I remember.

I complain about her sluggishness,
she still makes fun of my math.

(From left to right: Daniela, me and Kelle)

N.B.: 

• There's a one-year age difference between Kelle and me, this poem is for/about her.
• Oware is an abstract strategy game among the bigger Mancala family of board games. They say you can't be selfish if you play Oware. I was incredibly selfish as child. Thank God I also had sisters growing up.
• Oware works with two sacred principles: you must sow if you want to reap and you must learn to give if you want to receive.