Something woke me up. It wasn’t a dream I thought trying to recollect it. It seemed like an occurrence-my acting even in my sleeping. I was confused. What was going on? My eyes were still groggy from the nine hours of sleep that I was sure I hadn’t gotten at one single space in two years. I yawned and a foul breath escaped mouth but I was too lazy to walk to the bathroom which was less than ten feet from my bed. I pushed a pile of my clothes to the floor as I searched for my blackberry. I was such a mess. My bed was piled with clothes, my comforter, from reckless sleeping was now on the floor, novels and books of sort-not even neatly stacked lay on my bed. I shut my eyes angry at myself. ‘Now I’d have to clean up’ I said as if it was someone else who had made the mess.
I finally managed to stand up and walked to the bathroom. I didn’t like who I saw in the mirror even after I rinsed my face. Something was pricking me today and making me frustrated. I could almost feel the fumes rising from head. Then I heard mother’s voice. She was talking in hushed whispers-then it clicked-the reason I had woken up at the wrong side of the bed was mother. I strained my ears to listen to who she was talking to. Then she said it again the word that had raised me like Lazarus from the tomb was that word I so detested. ‘Child’
‘Child’ I repeated in more of disgust than anger.
I went closer to the door of my room and with my toothbrush in my mouth, toothpaste all over my lips.
‘No-I can’t tell them-’ her voice was too quiet
I just wanted to open my door and go and sit with her and make her repeat all the words she was telling this person-possibly stranger. But I knew if she wanted me to hear, she wouldn’t be whispering. I fidgeted with the door for a second then I heard another statement.
‘How old is the child first?’
No, this couldn’t be happening to me. Why would mother want to destroy my life? She couldn’t possibly want to-no she couldn’t. She knew I hated children. She had better be joking with this.
I sat on the floor, praying to God who I so often didn’t communicate with to stop whatever mum was planning to do. Then there was a silence hanging over the air. Could it be possible that God had intercepted the phone call or ran over the receiver with a huge trailer-no, maybe boko haram had bombed the Motherless home where she sought to adopt a child from. Oh, I was just doleful and silly. I stood up rinsed my mouth and went into my mother’s queens room. She looked a tidbit sad even though dressed in the best creamy vintage dress, tight at the waist and a renaissance of Cinderella at the bottom. Her hair was carefully braided. She looked like a bride, a young beautiful bride but she wasn’t.
I kissed her fair cheeks brusquely and sat with her. I was going to be mature about this, at least, father always said ‘mature speeches brought mature reactions.’
‘Mum are you going out?’ I asked feeling the texture of her dress. It was lace.
‘Yeah’ she said forcing herself to smile a little ‘uh I had this opening but-’ she stopped abruptly as if trying to find the right words.
‘Mum, do you want to tell me something’ I asked. I was tempted to shout and scream for her to just talk to me. I wanted to tell her I knew and trust me it wasn’t alright. I wanted my crazy-real self to come out and force out the truth just like when we had our normal fights. But, no, the matters of the heart were concerned and this made my bones maintain an aura of strange calmness. Maybe she missed my Dad. That was probably it. I read her eyes, she was going through a lot and on the average, I was hardly around for her. It wasn’t that I didn’t have my own moments when I couldn’t hold my tears but the fun always swept me off my feet.
She finally broke the silence. ‘Two days ago, I was in my office and my sec called me that your uncle wanted to see me’
I smiled ‘that’s a good thing. When did he arrive in Nigeria?’
‘No, it’s not’ she said ‘he heard you deferred. He said your father would never have approved.’
My mouth hung wide open. I was speechless. ‘I doubt, daddy knew me more than you did and he would have’
‘Well, Uncle Mark said defensively that he won’t. He said I was nothing but a wife and he was the brother. He said he had a right. He wants to take custody of you’
This time I was forced to laugh. From my brief moments in my foundation law classes before I deferred, it was technically impossible for him to take me, not that this overprotective mother of mine would have. ‘It’s impossible’
‘I’ve my called my Lawyer. It is. Uncle is ready for a fight that I am not ready for’ she said
‘So wait, you’re saying you would just allow him to take me to the states to use me as he wishes.’ I was astounded; my smile vanished into thin air. I could have strangled her there and then. I was so angry. My eyes widened the way they always did when I was angry. I felt my muscle contract and my heart beat, anomaly.
She placed cold hands on my cheeks and I pushed them away not too fast but angrily ‘I love you candy’ she said ‘but since your father left, your life has been more of a social outburst.’
I kept silent this time. She wanted to blame me now, right?
She continued ‘you partied, drank-I mean not that I don’t want you to have fun but you were too on the wild side. And I was busy nursing my own wound to pay too much attention on you.’ She sighed ‘you’re not leaving, we’ll fight this. But, they’re going to use that against me’
‘We’ll fight it? It doesn’t seem likely because from what I’ve heard, you’re only interested in replacing me!’
‘You heard my conversation’ she asked bluntly
‘Yeah. It was loud enough in my room. I didn’t have to eavesdrop’ I lied ‘I know you hate me but really mum this is the height I don’t care about the in-laws, I don’t care that I hate kids but you’re replacing me, can you hear how that sounds? Mum really, you need to pick up the pieces of your life. He’s gone, he’s gone’ I screamed and stood. My hands played with the air in gesticulation as I spoke. Finally they came to rest on my hips.
‘You should go’ mum concluded eying me. She was so frank and I knew she didn’t mean it but my statements had raised her temper.
‘I hate you’
****
I ran to my room, my eyes filled tears. I missed my dad. I wanted him back. Why did he have to leave? If he hadn’t none of this would be happening. I loved my mum and she loved me but she couldn’t just give me away. My life was too miserable to be called a life.
I remembered being a child and my dad and I would go to park and swing. He’d read stories to me at night and make me feel like an angel. He brought me the best of gifts and brought breakfast to me in bed.
I wasn’t spoilt, he still disciplined me, we still had our fights but in the end it worked out.
I wish he’d just come back. I wish could reverse times hand. I put on my stereos to the loudest and in anger, banged my head against the wall thrice. I felt dizzy and funny inside. I prayed for death to come. It would be a union of father and child at that. It held a more promising place far away from the harsh realities of the world. If only I’d just die. ‘God take my life’ I screamed.
I tried talking about it with Anjola but she didn’t take sides with me. Neither did Tobi. I was angry, why would they tell me ‘love wanted the best for me?’ obviously the only thing my mum wanted for me if she truly loved me was to rot in Yankee. I hissed and rubbed my head. It was hurting as well as aching me. I thought that would be death come true, then my mother walked in. she switched off the stereos and I wanted to shoot her. I wanted us to fight but she was smiling. She even ignored the fact that my room was a junkyard.
‘Go away’ I prayed to God for her to leave. I knew the longer she stayed the more likely for me to vex and say worse and I didn’t want that. She smiled ‘I love you’
‘Yeah I know how these conversations go, I don’t want to have it, so, apology accepted. You can leave now; I’ll start packing my things’
She smiled ‘Modupe, I’m your mother and I love you’ she said ‘your dads gone now, I can’t bring him back, I don’t know if you can. But, we are a family and we’re going to stick together’ she said smoothening my long lustrous brown hair which hadn’t been taken care of this morning. ‘No one is going to take you from me. You’re the only one I have. Sometimes, I feel lonely when you’re out but you’re right, I’ll pick up the pieces of my life if you do the same and realize he left because God called him’
I nodded and hugged her ‘I love you mum’
‘The feeling’s mutual’ she said
When she left me, I wasn’t still happy. This argument and heightened tension had me realize my life was devoid of a father and I wanted to know why he left. Why exactly.
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