Chapter 2: Mama Fire, Survival Mode

“Morayo, you don collect this month allowance?”

Her voice carry that her usual sharpness, like person wey dey ready give long advice. I just nod, dey form calm, even though my chest dey tight.

“Abeg, try dey chop meat o, na so you go strong.”

She always dey talk this one, as if na only meat dey give muscle. The irony sef dey funny me, because even to see meat for food nowadays na blessing. I look my rice wey I chop that afternoon, only fishbone dey wave at me.

I just dey look that ₦10,000 bank transfer wey she send, my eye dey open. I check the alert again, rub my eye—abi na dream I dey? ₦10,000, na joke?

I open my bank app, dey refresh am like say money go multiply. My mind dey calculate: Data, food, assignment printout, even T-fare for campus shuttle. Na wah.

She forget put zero? Even if she add another zero, e no go still reach.

I con dey reason maybe na Sallah or Christmas, she dey try do awoof, but e no be like say money dey surplus. I dey reason how I go take survive like this.

I rush text am: “Mama, you make mistake? Why my allowance be just ₦10,000?”

As I type, my fingers dey shake small. I dey hope say na network glitch, but I sabi my mama—she dey always mean wetin she talk.

After two minutes of her typing, deleting, typing again, she finally reply:

My phone dey buzz, that three-dot dey blink for WhatsApp, like say na big speech dey come. The suspense just dey wound me.

“Yes, that’s correct. From this month, your allowance na ₦40,000. I go dey give you weekly, ₦10,000 each time.

And abeg, anytime you collect your money, send me full breakdown of how you take spend am.

You dey uni alone now, me and your papa no fit dey look you every time. You need discipline—no go dey form big girl or waste money.”

Her message long like passage, e get comma, full stop, even prayer hand emoji. I just dey look the chat, dey drag for my bed like tired person. My chest tight. Discipline, gratitude—these words don tire me.

Big girl? At this point, I even deserve that name?

Na me be big girl when I dey drink sachet water and dey ration soap for bathroom? If na big girl life be this, I no want again, abeg.

Wetin dey worry Mama again?

Since this semester start, my monthly allowance don drop from ₦120,000 to ₦100,000, then ₦80,000.

I dey try remember the last time I chop shawarma. Everything don dey turn story. My mind dey flash all the times I go Shoprite just to price sneakers, dey snap picture for show, but now, even Okirika dey cost.

I just dey endure: pap for morning, one small food for afternoon, night I go skip. I dey find part-time jobs just to survive.

Sometimes, na garri with groundnut for dinner, I dey mix am with cold water, dey look sky through hostel window. If Halima nor dey, na me and my hunger go dey gist.

My school dey Ibadan—this big city wey things dey cost like say dem wan kill person. Few thousand naira no even fit do basic things. To buy anything extra, na dream. Even to follow people go chop or shop, fear dey catch me.

Ibadan na place wey go humble anybody. Dem dey chop money like Sunday rice. My friend talk say, "If you fit survive here, you fit survive for anywhere." I believe am now.

Now e don worse. She cut am again, from ₦80,000 to ₦40,000—na big fall, and e no sweet at all.

E be like person wey dey climb okada, dem push am down for express. I nor sabi how to begin complain again.

How I go survive like this?

I dey ask myself, "Abi make I start sell thrift online? Or make I dey help people write assignment for small change?" Even my thoughts dey hustle.

She dey tell me make I dey chop meat. With which money?

I dey laugh small for my mind. Sometimes, I dey imagine say if I see meat for food, I go snap am, post for WhatsApp story. Na joke I dey crack for myself o.

₦40,000, and na four instalments—na so dem dey do beggar?

For my mind, I dey imagine myself for junction, dey stretch hand like person wey dey beg. Life don humble me.

And this her accounting—she wan check every kobo. How this one take different from landlord wey dey squeeze tenant?

I dey feel like tenant for my own life. Mama na landlord, she dey call for monthly rent and breakdown.

I try beg Mama: “Mama, ₦40,000 too small. E no even reach for food.”

My message long, I dey try calculate, dey break am down for her with sense. I dey hope say pity go catch her small.

“For our school, one vegetable plate na ₦500, anything wey get meat pass ₦1,000. If I wan buy small treat, na almost ₦2,000.

Apart from food, I still need buy normal things: pad, toothpaste, tissue, soap… Pad no dey fall from sky, toothpaste sef dey finish sharp sharp.

No be say I dey buy cloth every week, but at least once in a month, or at least one for each season.

I no even dey reason makeup, but as girl, I need small cream—even the cheapest one na almost ₦5,000.

Social life dey too: class dinner, friends go invite you out—all na money. And…”

As I dey type am, my body dey shake. My pride dey hurt me but hunger dey push me. I wan make her understand, but I sabi say she no dey hear that side.

I wan talk more, but Mama call just enter, her vex voice dey loud for phone:

Her voice sharp like blade. I fit imagine am dey stand for parlour, wrapper tie chest, dey point finger for air.

“Morayo, so na craze dey worry you since you waka comot my house? You dey complain say ₦40,000 too small? For my time, you sabi how much I get? You no even know better.

No fit help your papa and mama small? Wetin bad if you dey manage? Na better tradition be that!

I be your mama. Anything wey I give you, you suppose dey thank me, you still dey complain?

Abeg, focus for school. Why you dey follow anyhow people waka up and down? You no go join them again o!

And last one—if you still dey argue, I no go send you shishi again!”

Her words hot like fresh pepper for my ear. I just dey nod, dey look my phone as if e go swallow me.

She just cut call.

My phone beep again, and na that silence wey dey remain after person quarrel with you. I just dey look my phone, my chest dey heavy, as if I swallow stone. My heart just dey beat like drum. The thing pain me, but I just form strong face, dey force small smile. For hostel, everybody dey mind dem business, nobody sabi wetin dey sup.

I just force small smile. Since I start uni, this na the seventh time Mama dey threaten to cut my allowance.

I dey count am like birthday. E dey funny but e dey pain. I dey wonder whether other people mama dey do like this too.