Chapter 3: Oga's Advice and Mama's Love

When e start?

I no remember—maybe after I divorce, maybe after I marry, maybe since I born.

All the old stories dey rush me. My mama wahala na like background noise for my life.

"Make we end here today. Back office people fit log off, thank you." Mr. Auwalu close him laptop.

I hear him voice soft, e dey try end the day on gentle note.

Apart from work, e dey easy to relate with—not too old, but e dey behave like old man.

Sometimes, I dey forget say we dey almost age-mate. E like to use old school style advise person.

I think say e go pet me, but instead e talk, "Try settle your family matter. No let am affect work, or I go sack you."

E mean am, but e talk am with low voice, no be as threat. Na warning make I put things in order.

Na so e suppose be.

Work na work. If I spoil am, nobody go pity me. I just nod, take advice.

"But, my mama sef dey like your mama before. I fit yarn you."

Oga voice soft small, like say e dey try connect.

"Your mama?"

I open eye, surprise. I no expect say e go talk about him family.

E resemble as if I dey insult am.

But e just smile, wave hand say no mind.

"My mama follow my papa go abroad, but she no fit adapt, depression catch am. My papa try help, but the thing too cost—e no fit pay. When e bad, my mama fit call my papa over 200 times for one day. Even if e pick, she no go talk, or just dey talk small small things, repeat am."

E face show say pain still dey somewhere, but e dey use joke cover am. Na real Naija man—no dey show weakness.

"Chicken feather garlic nose? You mean chicken feather garlic skin, abi?"

I try lighten the mood, e catch the joke.

"Eh... yes, chicken feather garlic skin." E blush. "Even though my papa love my mama, anybody go tire for that kind wahala."

Oga adjust seat, dey talk low. E try make I feel say my wahala no new for this world.

"And then?"

I dey hope say e go give me solution, my ear stand well.

"Later, my mama better."

E smile, eyes soft. I dey wait for the secret.

"How una take do am?" I ask, hope dey my voice.

I dey look am like say I fit collect wisdom wey go free my life.

"My papa say, anytime my mama dey act up, e go just hug am. Na love cure am."

The thing touch me. I remember say love dey heal plenty wahala for family.

I remember am.

As e talk am, I dey reflect for my life. Maybe I too dey use fight take answer mama, instead make I show love.

I finally get this work. I no fit go back to dey house dey do nothing.

As I hold onto the job, I dey pray say my family wahala no go scatter my bread.

Next day meeting go well, we return for night. As night reach, I reach house.

I dey tired, but my body dey happy say day end. My house dey smell mama food.

As I enter, I hug my mama well, tell am softly, "Mama, I love you."

She shock small, but e smile. Chikamso come run join hug. I see small tears for mama eye, but she use wrapper take clean am.

I really regret say I never do am before, even though my pikin dey always hug me, dey talk say e love me.

I reason say maybe all the while, na this small thing she dey wait make I do. Na our way for house to dey hide love.

My mama ask, "You bring the schoolbag?"

I smile, lift bag up, hand am over. Chikamso jump up, happy. Mama face light up, like say she win lottery.

"I bring am. I talk say no wahala if e late by one day."

I rub her back, dey try settle all the past wahala. Chikamso dey open bag, dey check him books.

"Come chop."

Mama voice get that her old warmth. She dey try act like nothing happen. I dey grateful say peace dey.

I drop bag, wash hand, sit down for table.

The kitchen dey smell of palm oil, uziza leaf, and smoke—na real Igbo mama handiwork. The aroma for dining room be like village feast. I see my pikin eyes dey shine. I just dey smile.

Smoked fish, dried bushmeat, cow kidney, bitterleaf, spicy ugba, plate of fried groundnut, and one pot of mushroom pepper soup with scent leaf.

I dey look all the food, dey remember olden days for village when mama go save best meat for children. Chikamso dey use eye dey count meat for plate.

This food shock me, I see my pikin dey look me with hope.

Na so e dey swallow saliva, dey hope say I go talk make e stand up.

"Mama, how we wan chop all these things? I tell you make you cook normal chicken, fish, meat and egg."

I dey try use play talk, make she no vex. Chikamso dey nod head beside me.

My mama carry rice come. "No be normal food be this?"

She put plate for my front, dey smile. She dey show say her food na better tradition.

"E still small, e need better food. You just pack salt, kidney, bitterleaf—how pikin go chop am?"

I dey reason say Chikamso no go like all this heavy native soup. For him mind, e dey dream burger.

"Why e no go chop? All these food sweet! That time, even for Christmas, we no fit see am chop."

Mama begin talk of those days for village when better food na luxury. She dey try make us appreciate wetin dey table.

My pikin hold my hand, beg: "I no wan chop bitterleaf soup, I wan Indomie and egg!"

Chikamso voice low, but e dey clear. I dey pity am.

I tell my mama, "E no fit chop all these at this age. At least do jollof rice, yam porridge, or buy small chops from mama put."

I dey try give options. If not, hunger fit wire person.

My mama knock spoon for table, vex: "Na because you dey spoil am, always dey chop oyibo food, no dey chop rice. Smoked fish, bushmeat, ugba, na me prepare am—clean! The rest I just cook am. Too picky! If you no wan chop, make hunger wire you! Chikamso, come drink soup."

Her voice dey rise, she dey vex true true. I dey try calm her down, but my pikin don almost cry.

See as scent leaf full the soup, my pikin pinch him nose.

I wan laugh, but I just dey look my own plate. My belle just dey turn.

E resemble me—no dey chop scent leaf at all.

Chikamso na carbon copy. The thing dey run for blood.

"E no dey chop scent leaf. I self no dey chop scent leaf. I don talk am tire."

I dey try remind her. But she stubborn like cement.

My mama no send: "Without scent leaf, no go sweet! Make e dey chop am, one day e go like am."

She believe say food na by force. Na so she take train me. Her own era no dey give chance for pikin to complain.

My pikin look the food again, drop spoon, go on top TV.

E don tire. E dey act like person wey wan escape for prison.

"Sweetie, make we go outside chop. Make we eat pizza, you dey?"

I try lighten mood. I dey try cheer am up.

"I dey!" My pikin jump, rush go door.

Hope don return for him face. E dey ready, no look back.

My mama knock table: "I buy and cook, una still wan go outside? Which food no sweet? Una dey look down on me?"

Her face don change. E dey pain am say we dey waka comot for her food. I dey feel guilty small.

"Na only wetin you like you dey cook. You no dey think of Chikamso or me?"

I dey try explain, but I dey gentle. I no wan quarrel pass this one.

"Children get taste? Dem no dey chop wetin adult chop? Wetin dem sabi about like or no like?"

She dey shout, hands for waist. I dey try avoid eye contact.

I no wan argue. I carry my pikin go chop pizza. As we return, my mama sit alone for dark, no move.

As I enter house, I see say light never come, only candle dey corner. Mama just sit down, dey look ground. I dey feel one kain.

How I wan talk am?

I no know whether to beg her or leave her. I just dey think say maybe tomorrow, all of us go laugh about this thing.

E just lonely.

E pain me, because I sabi say deep down, na love she dey use cover her own pain. Na the way for our family.

My pikin see am, shout, "Grandma don die!"

Chikamso voice sharp, e rush go tap grandma for arm. I run come join, my heart skip beat. Mama raise head, sigh, then begin laugh small. Na so all of us begin laugh, tension scatter. I rub Chikamso head, hug my mama. No matter the wahala, na family still be our backbone for this life.