"Bịà Chidera, kà nyálụ ịnụ kwó ná íméchị shed m sị nà ịná éjé ébé nwánụ dị
Ịchịchè dị ányá! Lemme not accidentally hear that you locked my shop up and customer was calling me to tell me that shop is closed, that where am I? Chidera ịná nụ kwó?" She asks me amidst arranging her purse, doing her makeup amongst others.
I eye her repeatedly till she turns to me, "Am I not talking to you...? Oh! Ịná lụ m ányá! Adaeze óbụzị ná mmụ ná gị ábụlụ gọ́' gbó lụé ná iná lụ zị m ányá?" She makes to slap me but calms down. I just stare at her, if I begin to spit out all that was in my mind, I may just... I don't know what would just happen, "I don't wanna hit you right now. Don't wanna get my self stained cause I gotta look hot for Daddy the Pablo..." The Fuck? Some one get me a baff bag. My Mom, I don't even wanna know the fuck old she is, is quote unquote getting sexy for a guy definitely younger than thirty five, Ngozi's Dad is about thirty two, thirty three, Mummy Ozioma is five years younger... Cough cough, Child abuse... Mó' bụlụ Ngozi,this Lady right in front, my Mom, is about the same age as Obinna, Daddy Obinna and this guy is so fucking younger than her, it's giving about twenty seven, twenty eight. I didn't mind the age difference between them, I am only simply worried about the health risks of my Mom sleeping around.
"Mom, where are you headed?" I ask grabbing her wrist as if she hadn't told me earlier.
Shaking my hands off vehemently she replies, "Ódịká árá áná pụ gị? It's like madness has a hold on you this girl? What's the meaning of that rubbish question?" She asks. Thanks to her scary attitude right now coupled with her intonation and voice, two kids who usually threw their parents' income in our shop just moved across the street to purchase something from the hardworking immigrant Lady from Kumase, Asante, Ghana, Ọbịụdọ, Nné Asantewaa as we call her over here, I believe her name is Boahinmaa ba Enakyemenkwa or something like that, Ngozi knows.
We call her Nné Asantewaa because she once resuscitated a girl using CPR Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, when all of us were clueless of what to do. We're playing street ball that day, it was the girls' tournament, not me though, I was cheering Ngozi on and the said girl who was on our team I heard had a minor case of asthma. She was on the ball but was bodied outta the way and fell on the tarred road narrowly missing the back of her head, her Afro would've cushioned it though, hers was massive. Anyways, she had to be given mouth to mouth or thereabout but all who tried failed including my I-too-know bestie, Nkolika nwà Ozioma. This Lady on realizing what was going on rushed from her shop to quickly do what only she knew how to do best and she saved the day. She kept pressing her chest, moving her up and around, kissing her and removing her lips, looking up towards the Sun she would say "Yaa Asantewaa Maame," over and over again till the babe was finally up. She began breathing again. My girl still kept on playing the street tournament that day even as she got up, our team got knocked out of the tournament eventually but she won a Mother that day because she kept on calling her Nné Nzọpụtá m, my Mother savior, the Lady then began called her Asantewaa Baa, young Asantewaa, so, we all just began calling her Nné Asantewaa, I heard she's unmarried, at 58, epic!
"...Chidera respect yourself and mind your business," She grabs the pee bucket and heads inside, a few seconds later she comes out and pours it into the drainage nearby and thoroughly rinses it up with water. Our shop was kinda lone so no one in a short distance could hear our conversations but anyone that loved gossip could focus and get an idea cos her voice was FUCKING loud even when she tuned down abit, "If you don't like the guy you can use the door anytime he comes, after all, I'll never take you to his place again after you blatantly lied up on his brother's name."
Oh, my, FUCKING God! How is this Lady even my Mother for crying out loud? "Mom! You took me to his place and left me in the parlor to go let in the nigga and his diseases into you, you left me in the company of his two brothers and his sister who was high on some white powder crystal shit when I went to her room to find succour. You guys were so in y'all's feelings you didn't even open the door, good thing you still had some brain cells enough to lock the door, I later told you, YOU, my Mom, my Mother, that your dick head boyfriend's bitch ass brothers were trying to molest me and you waved it off like a fart no one knew the culprit of. Mom are you sure you're even my Mother?"
My last question seems to anger her, she looks outside as to verify if anybody heard what I had just said, "Chidera ngá...ngává mmágị ụlá! I'll soon slap you! You're very stupid and silly are you hearing me? You're very stupid and mad for such words ịná nụ?After all I passed through carrying you while your useless fath..." She calms down. She always changes the topic when it got to my Dad, no picture, no name, no nothing, never met him, though it feels like I had his presence around for a while, sides that, never met him. I don't know, even Mummy Ozioma and Daddy Obinna will literally change the topic when I ask about him, I'm fed up though.
"Come, how can you be accusing Pablo him brothers like that? They said that was not what happened, they said they just wanted to play with you..." She's not done talking when I storm out of the place, "Chidera if you don't come back here this instance I'll make sure you don't go to school for a month and no one will help you go. I'll remind the world that I gave birth to you and only I can take it," If it's Ngozi she for don shout, "Ógịnị kwá?" I stop on my tracks though and lowering my head, I fight back my tears. Normally they'ld overpower me but today, they don't do as much, somehow, I manage to smile. I go back and go take a seat, crossing my legs and folding my arms, she continues mumbling nonsense, "Chidera, if you didn't wanna visit him with me, you could've just said so rather than lay false accusations on those innocent boys, maybe I forced you or not, I'm sorry but that doesn't warrant false accusations."
I stare at her long and hard, stare at the kitchen knife on the counter and back at her again pouting and posing for the camera on a selfie to probably post on her status updates, hashtag selflove or nothing and there about she always does. Gaddaflip pays if one can get fifty likes on just a single post if they have about seventy five to ninety contacts that are steady being kept in contact with and Mom was the grand Mistress such things, the Grand Mistress of social media, Ónyénnéụkwụ ụmụ ìfè ndị áhù. I arise and calmly go over to grab it, I calmly walk back up to her as she's facing the rear end of the house on her phone and I send it right into the side of her neck, stabbing repeatedly, she yelps but can't make a sound, she struggling for breathe as foamy bouts of blood escape her mouth, I back up on her a bit as she drops...
I blink twice and look at her still, not knowing what to do or say to this Lady who stands in front of me claiming to be my birth Mother. I quickly put the kitchen knife idea to rest, I quickly move over and grabbing the knife, I hide it in the glass display cabinet in the middle of the shed and return to my seating again.
"Ádá m, you know it's because of Arinze that we can pay our rent right?" She says, I just stare at her a while, "You know na right?"
First of all, you can't just go around believing and supporting a group of rascals, Boys, Men, over your very own daughter, your nine months and then you'll come back to baby talk me, fuck your bitch ass Mom, with all due respect, respectfully of course, Fuck you, "How?" I ask waiting to hear another word of nonsense.
"Do you how much Daddy the Pablo gives me every time I come?"
First of all, quit calling him that weird ass name, his name is Arinze, next, I don't wanna know but she ma tell me anyways, I take a deep breathe and respond "Nné m Mbà."
"Fifteen thousand..."
For milking his juice box? Wow, Mom, your tongue must be fire, wooh! "Hm! And Fifty two Ayolas? He's trying o," I pull out my phone trying to show her my new disillusion with the conversation.
"Is that the only response I'm gonna get?" She asks as she's done with her makeup, she got skills, I wonder why she doesn't make use of it to actually make money. She sits down on the chair adjacent me, "Eh Chidera?" Oh sorry ma, I'm coming lemme call Ajani, Dịbịánná Nnụkwụ ná ụnóÁlụsị ndị Ekpoma ányị, Grand Master of our Ekpoma shrine, our village native doctor, let him get out the mmáwụ, masquerade so we can dance, my Mom is sucking dick and paying the rent with it. Áshánà independence! How liberating, Nonsense!
"Mom, you're not paying any rent," I blurt out but continue anyways, "Mummy Ozioma sends the money for our house rent to her husband whom she put in charge of running the affairs of the estates and the house which we all live in, he's her personal assistant more or less, he put everything of his ever in her name, plus the estates are her own, the house is his own sha, he transferred it to her name, I think permanently, she owns this our particular shop and Nná Okija shop and the house it is nestled into in, em... Kédụ m áfá yá? Em, ehen! Ìchịé Dutty Omelora Boukman street at the next junction, she even wants to buy the street from the wishy washy N'ụrụsọrọ iméÓbọdọ Parliamentary member Ozobia Nnemnyelugo because that useless he-goat Frederick nwá bé ndị bé Okolo ná Ozubulu village wants to buy the street from him and rename it after his grandfather or thereabout so yeah, Nné m, Mummy m oooo, Ọyọyọ Nné m, you're not paying any rent o? Má nkè ụnóáfịá má nkè ụnó, ntà mà ịmọ, mbà, nothing," She looks at me seemingly wanting to murder me, good thing I had hid the knife.
"Look at you, are you not ashamed of yourself?" Why would I be? Am I the one that's following Men up and down, every night soaking ụwèuhịé m, my panties in steaming hot water or am I the one one that goes to do STDs test every other weekend? What am I ashamed of? Maybe of being your Daughter na, noooo, what am I saying?Mummy Ozioma is my Mother, you're just another, "Are you not ashamed of yourself? See as you're embarrassing yourself... Cos it's not me, it's not me you're embarrassing, so if somebody should pass now they'll hear you saying these kind of things about our family, me, your own Mother," I make to distract myself with my phone but she snatches it from me, "I'm talking to you you're pressing phone, it's like you, you don't have respect again na abi?" We don't respect those who don't respect their mkpákóndụ, her gateway to life, as you don't have respect for yourself, for your vagina, for us Ladies in general, we won't have any respect for you.
I chuckle, that's what Esther told one girl the other day. It's funny because having slept with almost all the guys at school she still calls them Energy vampires, "I see because you are now hanging out with that Ozioma woman and her family na you're now growing wings, you no longer eat my food, you don't do anything in the house and after all I have done for you..." Sorry o but Ma, what have you actually done for me? You don't do shit for me, never have actually. I think the last thing you did for me was birthing me and nurturing me to life for three years, I greatly appreciate but other than that, what else? I had to meet with Ngozi's Mom to get me some ụwèétịtị on the day I had my first flow, she didn't have any so she had to get me Ngozi's own, you my Mother were home, you were on the phone with one so called Mwalimu Doctor Sugurinoma Bonkoungou from Southern Burkina Faso, (Ánịágwáómá), I wonder what you're still doing in fast developing Biafra (Ówụwá) in a tenant house four years later. I got molested, told you and you shrubbed it off like dust, no wahala. You call me useless, irrelevant, unimportant at any slightest mistake of mine and what not and openly remind all who care to listen that I'm the worse thing that has ever happened to you but you'll come back later to gist me and confide in me and wanna play with me because apparently, you were such a shitty friend all your girl crew left you and only Mummy Ozioma whom you don't even remember how you met her is the only one kind enough to let you in her space and tolerate you but you don't mind badmouthing her in public and being all goody two shoes with her Man, no wahala. You dey just dey mess around with your fellow Ladies' them personal assistants, if it's Ngozi now, she'll remind you that mummy Karma is real, Nné ányị bụ Ófó ná Ọgụ, that's mummy Karma, Karma Nné ányị.
"Bịà this girl, why have you been looking at me like that, you don't know your mate again abi?" I look away.
"Nné m, you're with my phone," I turn to remind her. She pulls it outta her bust and flashes it at me.
"Yes, cos I want me and you to gist, to spend some quality time together. We need an extensive mummy-daughter month soon. We have not spent time together in like, years..." Maybe if you stop following young boys you can probably birth into existence and actually become a Mother, to me, then we can begin discussing that, "... Maybe Southern Biafra, by the beaches, maybe Eko bar beach in Oduduwa, maybe Santiago, (Ólá'nịnné), Cape Verde, (Àgwàólándụ), or better Ouagadougou, (Ánịn'ényé'bụbé), Burkina Faso (Ánịágwáómá) Maybe ónyé Ágbónédụághá, the captain, Ibrahim Traore will finally notice me..."
"Captain Africa! Mom, he has a wife and kids, he has discipline and he's in retirement like every good leader, so he won't have time for motherfucker."
Mom eyes me sarcastically and continues, "I see you're not enjoying this my mood this evening, kpálị kwá ọnwé gị o!" I laugh genuinely, "Leave me and my crush alone o, we're already married with nine kids in my imagination," Werey! "Or we can go to maybe Accra," she continues, "(Arụrụ), in Ghana, (Ọbịụdọ), or even Port au Prince, (Àgwàịgwéágbó), Haiti (Ileawonoke) mó Memphis (Ómá'nédị) nó ná Kemet (Kémétị), one of these places I have mentioned will be nice eh, Deraa m and the prices are so cheap..." Lé kwá ónyé nkéá o, See this one o! I laugh to myself and she smiles probably thinking I'm with her on this, she hugs me tightly, "That's my beautiful darling daughter! Soon enough my baby..." See this woman o, Nékwà ónyé mgbụ áhà! So if I follow con dey go all these places with you, wetin go con do my education, forget school first, my bestie, my family? And with Pussy money? See wer... No wahala.
"So when are you planning on going to the place nwánụ?" As she makes to respond, a bright lemon-green colored Itaoua Sahel pulls up right in front of our shed, I roll my eyes as Mom sprints up like a child glad her Mummy just came back from market. As the nigga pulls out of the car in 'I've made it in life even if it's fraud money,' Mom runs to hug him and kiss him, he lifts her up and spins her round like they're lovers or some shit. I have never been more disgusted than I was today... And yeah, she literally did the same shit yesterday, the day before and practically every other three days of the week, my life is a fucking mess.
When Mom alights she calmly pulls down her bodyhug gown which had stretched up as he lifted her up. She's casual about it. I shake my head at the both of them, no courtesy, no shame, no shit, we were passed the era of shaming a guy for marrying a girl his senior and shit but we would never be past the era of shaming prostitution because what the fuck? Prostitution is not freedom, I mean it's passed as such but it's simply just false empowerment and liberation for Ladies, that's for sure. Anything that benefits your oppressors is not liberating to you, that's the gon gon, nyá bụ gọdụ the fact.
"... My baby, how are you doing?" I turned to see if I was the quote unquote baby he was referring to. Nope, thank God it was my Mom, he got his hands rested on her lower waist pulling her closer to himself with a certain kinda possessiveness akin to Lovers and Mom was acting like... What the fuck was Mom acting like sef?
"I'm good my baby," He pulled her closer and this time make to kiss her, I quickly create a diversion.
"Aight! Mum! my Mummy, my darling Mother who actually gave birth to me from her womb," wey this werey for done shift. He turns to look at me, I grab a hold of his hands making to release Mom from his lustful grip. I looked around, people were making an audience outta our spectacle, great! Just what I needed. But who was gonna talk anyways? No one was ever gonna talk, no one, Mom could literally walk around naked and no one would give a shit, why? Mom kinda held most of the businesses around and across by the neck, they were indebted to her in one way or another financially or otherwise so no one was gonna attack their creditor, that left Nné Asantewaa who had just arrived but as Mom wasted no time in showing that the color red on her flag is thicker than ketchup, she instantly became the perfect description of if 'Mind your business' was a person... At least towards Mom only and hey, shame? You really can't shame the shameless, so I guess stay shameless, you know unless you're fat and obesed.
Mom read the situation and comports herself casually removing his hands from across her, he turns to me and smiles, "This babe, what's your name again?" I roll my eyes.
"Adaeze Somtochiukwu," Mom replies. I give her the 'what the fuck is wrong with you?' kinda look because this Lady wasn't really normal at all.
He grabs a hold of my chin like he about to kiss me and declares, "Ada, Eze, Daughter of a King, that's beautiful, but Daughter of a Queen will be better, you feel me? Ada, Obi, don't you think?"
He turns to Mom who replies like a lovesick penguin, "Abi? I've been telling her since..."
"Mom! Please. I believe you both have somewhere to be right?" She frowns and heads into the car.
"Baby, please let's be going," She calls out at Arinze as she turns over to use the passenger seat.
"I'm coming my Love," See this werey o, na person Mama you dey call your Love, ólé kwá lụ gị. I go soon come handle your Mama, idiot! He dips his hands in his pocket and brings out wads of ụmụ Egonne and Nnefe. I laugh, dusting my hand in disbelief, he proceeds to hand them to me but I snub him and head back into the shed.
This Ọkpọ follows behind me o, "I'll call you Adaobi from now on ok?" He drops the notes on the display table used for cutting fish which is right in front of us.
"Better don't try it. Ìnwá kwá nị' ánwá, don't even dare to try it."
He smiles, "I'm gonna do it though," I chuckle and he lifts my palm as if he wants to kiss it, I look over at Mom, she's mindlessly on her phone, perfect timing Mom, great time to be on your phone my darling Mother.
I slap his grip off me and stands up. Mom turns, observes abit and continues on her phone, "I believe you have somewhere to be with, my Mom, your sugar Mummy," As if he had forgotten, he realizes and springs up.
Squeezing my palm again he smiles, "See you around beautiful," he winks at me as he walks away, he turns just to add, "And hey, she's not my sugar Mummy, sugar Mamas nwélụ Egonne, nnákwá gị something, you're Mama na oscroh, OS nó ólụ, you sef go nice like your momsie," He adds licking his lips as he checks me out.
"Alright, that's it! Ìfè ịfụ ịwélụ," I rush to the glass cabinet and grab the knife again, he staggers a bit shocked but maybe he felt like I was bluffing. It was when I put on the gas cooker attached to the head of the cylinder and put the knife on it that he got his brain back.
Mom honks the horn again and this time he wastes no time getting into the car, in a minute, they speed off faster than I have ever seen him accelerate, Mom might as well have a heart attack.
"No you for no run, nonsense! Useless Man!" I sit down on the bench and bury my face in my palms and begin to sob quietly.
"If you're crying like this over your Mom and her useless escapades, which tears are you going to use and cry for the love of your life, me!" She says entering like she owns the place.
I smile and raise my head wiping my tears, "Nkolika you be werey o!"
"Ánákó nké ánwú ákó? That na normal thing na, I be werey from Owerri." Ngozi says taking a seat next to me.
"Werey from Iwere!" I say.
"Werey from Owerri!" She counters.
"Iwere!"
"Owerri!"
"Oya rest na."
"Iwere na Warri abi?" She asks as if she isn't the one who informed me of that.
"Yes," I reply. I then look away towards the outside but my tears are not yet satisfied.
"Babe," Ngozi pulls at my shoulder, "C'mon, talk to me, what's wrong?"
I quickly wipe my tears and turn to her with a forced fake smile. She raises an eyebrow at me, "I'm fine baby," I look away again.
"Chidera look at me," I know where this is going, I don't look at her, "Chi baby, look at me," I make to look but stop, she pulls me by my shoulder, I turn a bit and she tilts my head towards her, Ómụ Ugonabo, no, Ómụ Chidera Adaeze, Ms Chidera Adaeze, do I look like I'm wearing... Ádị m kà ónyé yị ụwéámịlị? Do I look like I'm wearing Diapers?"
I smile, "Mbà, ịdịká ónyé yị ụwéọjịị, you look like you're on boxers."
"That one sha concern you, look Love, if you let your Mom's lifestyle affect your, our life style, I'm going to kill you! C'mon, like I'll always say, C'mon!" She urges me.
I take a deep breathe, she grabs a hold of my palm and I respond, "Mummy Amanda is busy enjoying her little life the way she feels is best, and instead of judging her, I should go live my life too best I know how because one day, she's gonna die like everyone else and leave me behind and her good or bad records shouldn't affect me cos ama create my own... And shit like that," She smiles giving me a hug and a peck on the cheeks as I have perfectly just recited her anthem.
"And so it goes for every parent out there," She adds.
"And that's on periodt with a "t" at the end," I reply with a feint smile.
"Who's that again? Normani? Saweetie? Doja Cat? Ice? Glorilla?"
"Saweetie, that's Saweetie's verse on Best friend with Doja," I chuckle, "You're calling Ice spice, Ice can't drop a hottie like this even if her Dad's life depended on it!"
"Ah ah! How far be calming down na, una sabi each other before?" Ngozi asks in shock.
"No I just hate people who ain't any good hating on people who are doing better shit than they could ever do in a life time," Ngozi clearly doesn't understand what I'm talking about, it was a long time ago,she Obvi doesn't know music to save her life so I just let her be.
My girl just stays at me long and hard a while then begins singing Doja's best friends right off her back, "That my best friend, she a real bad bitch, got her money, she no need no Man, on the dance floor, she had two or three drinks, now she throw it back and come back in..." I blush as she hypes me up with the song. That's the verse she likes and actually the only verse she knows off heart.
"Best friend, you the baddest and you know it..." I make to say but tears won't allow me, I proceed to bury my face in my palm again but Ngozi brings me into her grasp, I just hug her and begin to cry on her shoulder full time.
"Yeah baby, let it all out! Men are scum!
"Wrong context," I say as I begin to calm down.
"Your Mom's a bitchy person."
"Bịà, too much!"
"Sorry. Alright, are you ok?" She lets go of me and cups my face in both her hands, looking me in the eyes and wiping my dripping tears with both her thumbs, she asks again, "Are you ok Princess?" I nod calmly with teary eyes, "Promise you won't cry again?" She says still wiping the army of tears who refuse to back down.
"I promise... At least not for today," I smile amidst tears.
"Fair enough," she pulls out her pinky, "Pinky promise?"
"But my pinky will not break o if I break the promise," Ngozi laughs.
"Resti, that's western middle ages superstition, nothing go happen," I nod, "But hey, a promise is a promise," She says as our fingers intertwine.
"Of course, of course," I reply. She lets go of me and we rest our backs on the wall.
"Chi?" She calls out to me.
"Ké way?"
"Can I ask a question?"
"No you actually can't ask a question. How can you just meet a stranger for the first time and you wanna ask a question, ónyé kà ịbụdụ?"
"I don't understand, what's going on?" She's so confused and I smile abit, good.
"No naaa, you can't just ask a stranger anything you like, shey me and you are strangers na abi? Can you ask me something as in as per strangers na?" She's bewildered but eventually manages to break a laugh.
"This idiot girl, you just like to escalate matters o," She hurls at me, I throw the "U" sign with my left index and middle fingers signifying "Ụdọ" or Peace, or in this context, with my lips pouted, my left shoulder shrugged, and my head tilted to the side, it signifies that I'm proud of myself.
"Loud and proud, Nné," I reply.
"Ọkpọ! Worm, anyways, what I wanted to ask is, if you had any foreign names for me, what would it be?" I take a good look at her.
"But you hate foreign names, you say every tribe, region, culture and country should bear their names with pride and don't change it for the world and yada, yada, yada..."
"I know I said all that, in every sense, it sounds like something I would say and that's still the truth, I'm still on it but this is just a game and I'm trying to just cheer you up that's the reason for me doing this."
I nod and smile, "No wahl sha, let's see, I have always thought the name Patricia looks nice on you."
"What does it mean?" She asks.
I quickly Flip it up and reply, "Noble Lady, it's an Irish name."
"Nice, I really am noble..." She attempts to hype herself up.
"Uhugh, uhugh! And besides, that was before you attempted trying to get a foreign name for yourself after claiming that this this this..."
"Chidera it's just a silly game," she says to me.
"From game now it'll become a real thing, you'll make it your Gaddaflip ID and soon you'll change your location to Họpịtụkwá, Àgwàụgbọ or, mó Nzóngụó, mó Nrúsịyé mó Álá'gwáétịtị and you'll now go and start living there and you'll leave me here all by myself..."
"Chidera jịlị nụ nwáyóó nụ!" I exclaim, "Haba! Is it not me that taught us about colonialism and what not?"
"C'mon shut up, it was Daddy Ozioma, em, Daddy Obinna, you wey no sabi anything," I query.
"No wahala na, oya when is Ghana's victory parade day?" She asks. She gon don pull up her trump card, calling facts I didn't know cos I don't research shit like her, genius. What the fuck is victory day parade?
"Victory day parade?"
"Yes, thank you sef, it's victory day parade, yes. Wait you don't know what is victory day parade?" I shake my head, "See who dey tell me say I no sabi anything," I laugh, "Victory day parade is that thing they used to call independence day, here in Africa, we now call it victory day parade, Ụbọchị ịzóịjé mmélị, yes, so when is Ghana's victory day parade?"
"I actually don't know..."
"See? Sixth of March, Ụbọchị nké ịsịị ná Ónwànjinga, the sixth day of the first month of every N'ụrụsọrọ calendar ỊgụÁró year and their founders' day is on the fourth of August, Ụbọchị nke ịlị ná ịsátó ná Ónwásankara, the eighteenth day of the sixth month of every N'ụrụsọrọ ỊgụÁró year, but no, after, you'll say I don't know anything..."
"That's just two different things, you're quite aware that in Historical..."
"Chidera, you lie! Chidera Adaeze Solumtochiukwum nwà Chimamandam 'my Ancestors will not fail me' nwà Egbuji ná Ekpoma, you lie!" I laugh. I love when she calls me that. She's the only one, well her and her Dad, Daddy Obinna who suggests very strongly that my surname should be Egbuji after my grandmother in the village and not Ugonabo after my deadbeat Dad who we have not seen since Mom gave me life.
Mummy Ozioma suggests that they're right but I should just calm down a bit and think about it a while, well I have and to tell you the truth, I'm still thinking about it.
"Anyways," Ngozi continues, " Let me tell you my own before you successfully change the topic."
"And what's that?" She smiles.
"Millicent."
"Millicent?" I asked, not a very popular name, rare rather, the kind you'll hear this very Ngozichi Nkolika Ozioma calling it and criticizing, "What does it mean and from where?"
"It's a name from Germany, Dóchị, it's a German name, áfá ndị Dóchị, it means strength in work or strong in work," she says squeezing my palm with her own palm on top intertwined, as if to remind me she was still holding onto me, she is.
"Ok o, but I'm not keeping it o, colonialism has ended, that's the one of the roles of the Motherland, so no need for speaking English or any other borrowed language."
"So mine would be Ngozichika Obinne 'Patricia' Nkolika nwà Ozioma and yours will be Chidera 'Millicent' Adaeze Solumtochiukwum Chimamanda," She thinks awhile, "Nope, I'm not keeping it," I laugh.
"Obviously!" We rest our backs again on the wall, I calmly but surely drop my head on her shoulder and she adjusts to accommodate me, she would always tell me that my head was as heavy as a wrecking ball. I didn't mind, but after I punished her by not talking to her for two weeks straight no cap and she literally had to kneel to beg me to forgive her... She was this close to tears, I eventually forgave her and then she tried not talking to me for the same amount of time, for making her kneel, she came back two hours later and began talking to me like nothing has happened, I laughed so hard that day.
"Chi, did you put something on fire?" She asks me.
"Shit!" I look at her in shock arising, she slaps her forehead as I rush into the main shop and I behold, the knife, still on the fire, now raging red hot.
I quickly turn off the gas using a rag I grab the knife by the hand and I was still feeling the heat from the thick mass of cloth.
"Óbálá Nné m Nnéụwá!"
"Omo, na because of that useless Obinna na," I say.
"Wetin make you leave knife for fire, wetin make you put am sef? Sha as e dey hot ósịsó sharpen am, now na the best time... Infact, give me," She grabs it from me and begins to sharpen it up quickly, "Ehen babes, check that my bag, you'll see a new change of clothes and others so that you can pull this school uniform and be comfortable like me," She calls out.
"Ok thanks," I reach out to the small portable school bag and opening it up I behold, "Your clothes Ngozi," She turns to look at me giving me 'the look.' As I squat below over the bag and she's standing with two knives she looks a whole lot scarier.
"The one you're wearing and the ones I wore yesterday and the day before, who owns them?"
I nod, "Fair enough," She hisses and continues with her activity.
"Why did Pops call you?" She looks at me again, the same look, maybe even darker.
I smile knowingly, "Why na?"
"Don't let my intrusive thoughts win o, na two sharp knives I dey hold for here o."
I laugh hysterically, "I was just looking out for you."
"Oshey princess Ivie, Adaeze the first nkè Onitsha, looking out for your head there, idiot!" I laugh making to go and hug her, "Ọkpọ, the knife is still hot o," Against all odds I still proceed to kiss her cheeks, she smiles amidst her feigned annoyance, she wants to say something but just blushes brighter.
"So you people are here sef?" Ifeoma asks, "Samantha this is Chidera's shop, they sell all kinds of food stuffs and stuff," We turn to behold the two friends who dilly dally into our shop like they own the place. If Mom was here I wonder what she would do or say, she's the reason Ngozi doesn't come around.
"Ify baby m," I rush to go hug her and she kisses me, classic Ifeoma.
"Eiii, Chidera, how far," Samantha extends her hands and I pull her into a hug too, she is a certified hugger, she's a hugger pure, her hug could make a angry mother bear calm down. It could calm the great dragon down on Armageddon, if Christianity is true sha. Forget arguments with Ngozi, me sef I wasn't even sure at all.
Ngozi seems to be enjoying Sam's hugs a little three much, I just take a look at both of them, Ngozi no dey close eye dey hug anybody normally, she no dey ever even dey this kain close contact with even her own Mother, Mummy Ozioma when hugging but here it looked like she was on cloud nine, Omo! Ifeoma sha I noticed, is a kisser, she sabi that one well well.
Funny these little little things are the only things I noticed about these two but our acquaintance is only of less than five days old sef talk more of a week so...
"Where were you people headed before you decided to stop here?" Ngozi asks dropping the knives. I feel on it, it has gone cold, I slid the tip of my finger right through the edges in the slightest way possible and it cuts me a bit, I squirm and immediately send the finger right through my mouth before blood can come together and begin to flow. Ngozi turns to wonder what happened, I wave my other index finger signifying nothing. She looks at my finger in my mouth and the knives on the counter which she had just sharpened and she quickly goes to put it away in the glass cabinet.
"No where o Ngozi," Ify replies as she returns, I just finished showing Sam around, you know her Mother them live in this street that is after Dutty Boukman street, em..." She snaps her fingers trying to remember.
"Ọkpọrọ ámá Vincent Ọgè," Ngozi responds.
"Thanks my love, Vincent Ọgè street, that's where they live," She's still talking as Sam takes a seat next to me, Ngozi and Ify them remain standing.
"So we just came to chill na, shey Ifeoma, they said a friend of my friend gịnị nwánụ gịnị nwánụ..." Samantha says finally.
"Oh, yes, is my friend, and the enemy of my friend is my enemy..." She replies.
"Na so una dey inherit enmity in the name of friendship, Ké'dụ way ụnụ sef?" Ngozi queries.
"Somehow Ify, what Ngozi just said is true o," She turns to me, so does everyone else.
"How?"
Samantha joins in, "No Ify, I think it's true, because my Mom told me that most of the reason why there was a lot of wars at the dusk of the old era and even before then was because people were just busy inheriting enemies, allowing propaganda ministries and the politicians to tell them who the enemy was and allowing the government to use having pride in dying for one's country, beliefs and identities to get young Men, beautifully not the Ladies, thank Mom, not that we're weak but because we're not that dumb, propagating the young Men into hopelessly killing themselves mentally and physically, probably emotionally for not the country because the country isn't usually at fault and besides the country is the the people and not the ingrates on the seat but killing themselves for a cabal, for a group of billionaires who aren't at peace with each other. They realize that because they're leaders of countries that have willfully stupid citizens who are easily propagated into dying not actually for a cause they believe in but for the sake of two, three, maybe four or five old Men and most likely for the cabal's amusement and their egos."
"Sides, they're promised that their family is well taken care of," Ngozi chips in, "The never are."
"Aswear!" Sam says.
"I'm telling you, We girls are not that stupid. You can never catch us being that dumb because what the actual fuck," I continue, "Why will I as a president, prime minister, royalty or what not, seat in the comfort of my palace and send out able bodied niggas, guys, Men to go out, leaving the comfort of their own lives, maybe sef they are the only source of provision for their widowed parents, so lemme give it like this, they are propagated to leave their lives and come and join a suicide caucus for the sake of me and my former homies beefing. We're beefing but hell no are we gonna kill ourselves, we have gangs fighting, literally killing themselves for our sake, and then we'll call it quote unquote national pride, that's what the media, the politicians, that's what they call it but the actual truth is that that's individual stupidity, we call them national leaders but they cannot lead from the battle field when we're fighting for a cause that'll only benefit them, they started the problem but it's us the common people that'll come and fight each other for their sake and guess what? With them there's no winner, there's no loser, no victor,no vanquished, there's only more money made, more ego to their brain sacks, more honor to their names, more wine, according to them 'more bitches' and more deaths for them to celebrate, quote unquote honor and for the media houses they own to report about thereby making money out of it and leaving tears, pain, depression, sadness and poverty for everyone else..."
"I don't understand, what are you saying?" Samantha hisses at Ifeoma's misunderstanding, "Sam why are you hissing abeg, is it everything that someone will understand?"
"Ifeoma, what Sam, Chi and I are trying to say is that no well meaning Lady will ever indulge in a fight where all hands are not on deck especially the quote unquote leader, boss, Queen, or what not at the top sending us out into any battle. And most importantly, No true African will ever kill themselves for a leader's war because of loyalty or quote unquote national pride or whatever nonsense stupidity, we're not at all foolish..."
"At all, we no fit dey foolish , Africa, dem no fit conquer us," Sam says.
"Before any fight we examine who's at fault, what WE as a collective, we the people stand to gain from this war or fight, ensure that we're not about to fight a lost cause, ensure that we're not bullying anyone or any body because we Africans are the preservers of Life not bullies or invaders or colonizers, we always ensure that as we're dying cos of course we will die, it's a war, a lot of us, some will survive, most likely few of us, as we're dying, the leader who is in charge of the region, town or country, that particular group must be at the forefront of the battle, they must be there in front leading and considering all these, we'll know whether we're fighting or not, whether we wanna fight or not as a people on both sides. Abi, Chi no be so?"
I give her a high five which she receives immediately, "I couldn't have said it any better my love," Samantha with her face rested on her clenched fist which is rested on her laps is calmly listening and observing, she seems interested.
"Nyá, you see Ifeoma? No one is that stupid anymore, even the leader must fight, that's the true definition of leadership, you must fight with your people, whether it's you that caused it or not, no true leader that calls them self a leader and wants to be addressed as or called a leader sits at home in comfort and luxury, even in poverty while the led is in turmoil, suffering, struggling and barely scraping by, ụdị ndị n'émé ụdị'fá nwụ ábụró ndị n'édụ fá bú ọzụ áná bú, those who do such aren't people that lead but corpses that are being carried..."
"One who gives orders without examples is a boss, a corpse, one who shows examples and is then followed is a true leader and is always sexy in the heart of the people," I add.
"I'm telling you Chi, I'm saying!" Samantha agrees, "They may remember a person for so long but it's no fun when it's for evil," Samantha adds.
"I will rather be a good leader that's remembered once in a while than an evil boss that's remembered everyday and is used for comparison, Omo thank Mom it is not that useless ingrate..."
"I dey tell you Chidera, I dey tell you," Ngozi replies.
"So wait o, girls, girls, wait, wait, all these una motivational quote gang up against me is because I say I'm in support of an enemy of my friend being my enemy?" She gets me to kpụmịé, to move over for her and she sits down completing the three seater bench.
"Frankly speaking, yes," Ngozi replies her as casual as she can.
Ifeoma nods and smiles, "Oya no Wahl, I was wrong, sorry o!" She replies nonchalantly, "But wait o," She continues, "So what if the national leaders nwánụ you want to lead the fight are oldies?"
"And so?" Ngozi springs up, "They're leaders for a reason, they are to lead till death, leading means acting in a way that you know is worthy of following, so if they relax, we relax and if possible, only they die, if they lead the fight and they're not at fault and we're actually fighting a good cause, then we can all fight and die together, if they're at fault, they can solve the matter amicably with their fellow leaders, most likely with their heads, no more unnecessary deaths."
"I dey tell you," Samantha agrees, giving Ngozi a warm hug and a high five.
"And hell...!" Ngozi makes to continue but I interrupt her.
"Hell, not because they're old doesn't mean they won't fight,"
"Gbàm!" Ngozi exclaims.
"They wanna lead in their old age abi? Theyll also fight in their old age. Because besides, at the end of the day, it's their fight most percentages of the time and again, it's so dumb they don't want us the younger ones, the younger generations to join their political activities at the very top levels but they want us the younger ones to fight their wars at the top levels and die for them in the process because of course in war, people must die obviously, so Ladies please, who are those fools clowning with?" I ask as Ngozi and Sam laughs nodding in agreement. Ifeoma chuckles resting her head on her palm which is on her laps crossed over and she yawns, she knows I'm right, she doesn't raise it again for a lil while.
"Not for me and my girls sha!" Ngozi exclaims.
"Swears!" I reply.
"Swear to God!" Sam adds.
Ifeoma raises her head and Samantha stretches and yawns, "Abeg Ladies, I'm tired abeg," Ifeoma announces.
"Aswear, what do we do now?" Samantha asks. Ngozi grabs a cup and goes to take some water from the water bucket. The new declination plant is still in progress but as it'as done in Ọbịụdọ, by the Ghana, Ọbịụdọ N'ụrụsọrọ Parliament over there, the N'ụrụsọrọ Ówụwá, Biafran N'ụrụsọrọ Parliament is still working on it, till then, steaming boiled water stored in buckets for everyone, the only clean source of water available.
I take a look at my phone, sixteen minutes to Six nké mbịdọ ányásị, "Girls, I'm going abeg," I proclaim. Sam and Ify are surprised. I turn to Ngozi, she smirks with a mouth full of water, some of it escaping.
"You're going home?" Samantha asks, I nod.
"Ah ah, why na? I thought you said you people used to close by to ten towards the midnight?" Ifeoma asks.
"That's when my Mom..." Ngozi shoots me a look like she's gonna kill me if I don't shut up at once.
"Chi, didn't I tell you earlier that Mom has come back and she's calling you, that was like over an hour ago?" I look at her funny, she didn't tell me anything o.
"Mummy Ozioma is back?" Ngozi stares at me hard, "Ohk, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" I realize what's she's trying to do. "Yes o, you told me. Oya Ladies, let's be going o, my Mom's calling me," I say to them. Samantha seems disillusioned with something on her phone. Ifeoma looks at us funny, like she is seeing right through us. She raises her brows and I smile weirdly. Ngozi quickly finishes the water in the wooden cup that was shaped like an Hennessy glass tumbler in one quick gulp and goes to rinse out the mouth and put back in place. She was used to holding any cup of water or drink like some Mafia boss of some sort taking a sip of alcohol and when she held a toothpick, omo! Na pipe she dey hold for mouth no be toothpick, that's my baby Nkolika Ozioma for you I.
"Chi is it to your house?" Samantha asks arising together with Ify.
"Yes o!"
"And your Mom is around?" Samantha asks again.
"Yes o, Sam," I reply.
"Won't she be...?" Ngozi grabs her shoulder.
"Ebube, Mom is a cool Lady more or less, she actually loves having friends around even more than Dad sef, plus, our Dad cooked," Ngozi says exuberantly.
"Una cook?" Ifeoma asks passionately grabbing her phone from the bench. Samantha is already outside and Ngozi helps me keep everything in order. Samantha realizes she's supposed to help and drags Ifeoma to come inside with her.
"When the owner of the shop wants to be serious with her life then she can come and open the shop, she has spare key na after all, she's not the one paying my school fees sef, mó giving me pocket money, buying my toiletries, or giving me food. I'll not come and be eating left over of what she cooked for that useless boy Arinze and his useless siblings. Imagine bringing half meat and three finished pieces of bone and soured soup for your own daughter," I rant to Ngozi not minding anyone else."
"Baby it's ok, Mummy Ozioma is always here for you na and my Dad too. So forget all these things. Besides, she gave you Life and she nurtured it till the right time so hey, there's that one, and hey, she bought you a phone..."
"That was four years ago, Nkolika, four! Not four days o, four years..." She drops what she's carrying on the counter, so do I.
"Chidera you don't know her reasons for doing some certain things, remember you were not there before you were born, even in the womb, you don't know what was occuring before you came out of her thereby gaining consciousness, you don't know the circumstances she may have faced or may have been facing at the point in time..."
"Nkolika, are you with me or against me?"
"C'mon!"
"Ngozi?"
"I'm always with you but..."
"Ngozi?"
She take a deep breathe and replies, "Má mmịlị éné'zọ, má ánwú ánáchá, ákwụ m gị ná ákụkụ lụé ná ógè ébébè, come rain, come shine, I stand by your side forever," I hug her and she clenches me tight, she rubs on my back gently. After a little while, someone clears her throat.
"Em, Babes, sorry to break up the union but aren't we going again?" Ifeoma asks. I turn to them, Samantha is already outside, impatiently pacing up and down on her phone.
"Sorry girls, I'm coming," As soon as we're done arranging things up, I quickly lock up the shop thoroughly but just enough for someone to see that business was still running, as usual.
"Where are you people going na? I want to buy ókázị nyà'ná ọgịlị ọkpéị," A middle aged man comes along and asks.
"Spinach and Castor, em, Nná ányị bịkọ, we're rushing, we're rushing somewhere, please go over to Nné Asantewaa's side o?" He looks at us and eyes us murderously.
"Had it not been that I put something on the fire for my wife before she comes back from work, I would've..." He hisses, "You're lucky sef I'm coming back from a long day of work," He clenches onto his shopping list paper tightly and turns crossing the road to nké Nné Asantewaa. I hiss drawing out laughter from the girlies as we continue on our head home. When Mom wants to be serious, her business will flourish, till then, let her continue being useless. Yes she gave me Life, there was no arguing with that, but if it's like before, I would ask, 'Did I ask to be born?' No! She wanted to have a baby and now she's not even doing her bid to take care of me? But I should care about her business that's not even taking care of me?" No, I wasn't gonna, they can sugar coat it however they wanna, my Mom is doing a terrible job, actually right now, worse than their parents' generation ever did, the Oziomas were trying but Mom, my Mom, no! And prostitution? No one supports that useless cause, I tell you, it's like porn acting, or the Adult entertainment industry in general, ụnónházị ọnyọnyọmmékólịtà, no one ever working there is proud of it, no one indulging in it or shopping there, patronizing the industry is proud of it, there are more customers than the world has numbers to count, its inhabitants, customers, fans, its citizens, need I say are twice the world's recorded population, eleven million, ónụógụ ndè ịlị ná ọfụ now twice that. The industry of adult entertainment aka pornography and the pay as you earn industry aka prostitution industry ụnónházị áshánà is not liberating , illustrious or industrious in any form especially and for the Ladies indulging in it, that form of quote unquote liberation is bringing comfort to their former oppressors, the Patriarchy, ochíchìndịnná and all the guys who subscribe to it, aka the evil ones, aka the misogynists, aka ingrates aka Men and they're simply just dirty, petty industries benefitting the system called the Patriarchy.
All sensible and well meaning oppressed or marginalized people who wanna gain or take back their freedom know that anything that brings peace and tranquility to their oppressors, their marginalizers is a fault on the part of them, the oppressed, the marginalized, they're doing something wrong. They're supposed to find peace, comfort and tranquility within themselves and in any activity that they find liberating, comforting, useful, anything good to them of a sort, that's the first step to taking, claiming back their freedom. So in the same sense, that activity or those activities should not bring any form of peace and tranquility and especially comfort or relaxation to their former or present oppressors, or marginalizers, that's one of the best vengeances ever if not the best.
Porn and prostitution and their industries in general in this sense no matter how liberating it may sound or seem to appear as is not true liberty or freedom to or for our girlies, be it their self controlled Only fans accounts and websites all the way down to the roadside meet and greet to even, yes, even being paid before service and afterwards, finding out when they get to the house, very dangerous stuff by the way, going to a guy's house as a girlie without telling a friend, a trusted friend or someone trust worthy of some sort or going anywhere by the way and not telling at least someone or something, leaving a clue per say, you know, so they find out after arriving at the nigga's crib, they gotta do the nigga's, the customers' them dishes, laundry, automatic or automobile repairs and household chores according to your capabilities or most times according to his needs or their needs, abd6 hey, he's paid you, they've paid you up and you most likely don't wanna refund that, it's huge, it's life changing, it's mouth watering and yeahs you're in too deep, and, all these bring comfort and relaxation to your oppressors and marginalizers, they who subscribe to the Patriarchy which keeps such systems running using you, a girl as fuel, day in, day out.
These are freedoms of a sort, yes, having your own money, being in a trillion Afrozx industry where's there's really no boss and you personally can be a billionaire in the industry, self made and stuff, but it can also be a danger to the body and especially to the life of the girlie, putting her at the risk of being drugged and raped, raped at knife or gun point or thereabout and stuff, putting her at the risk of all forms of diseases coming from Men or worse being treated worse than a pig all in the name of some sort of bdsm rope or even chain shit they innately know they didn't ever sign up for in the beginning, or even, after doing the deeds and they're threatened with a gun or a knife so the niggas don't have to pay or even much worse being killed at the end of the day and hey get this, you may be a billionaire but no one cares whether you are or not because to them, including your fellow girlies who have sense, thanks to your unholy source of income under the Patriarchy which you have subscribed to, you're just another toy or to the girlies, you're just another idiot who didn't listen to caution and went to find with the devil, dine with him and his brother in heaven and think you'll live to tell the tale, you'll be forgotten and I quote my love Ngozichimka again, 'faster than a fart no one knew the culprit of.' All these things, are things my Mom and a lot more other Ladies her age and especially those indulging in such shit don't know. Mom doesn't know all these Obvi and she's too proud and stupid for me to try and inform her so I'll spend my days with my real, actual and sensible family members, and friends, my friend Ngozichi and her family, the Oziomas, the true ones, Bé ndị bé Ozioma and mi Rafikis, mi rafiki zangu ni familia, my friends are family too, my friends that are family too, right here, right now. It's as simple as that.
"Ehen, Chi baby, wetin una cook?" Ifeoma asks tapping on me, "I wonder why you've been murmuring to yourself since."
Ngozi smiles and Sam adds, "I swear, I think say na only me notice o."
"No be me check na Ngozi sabi," I reply.
"Oya, oya, oya, Ngozi, tell us wetin e be," she queries her.
"Bịà Ifeoma, on top this your flat tummy you still like food reach like this," Ngozi says.
"Ever heard of fast metabolism?" Ifeoma asks, "Exactly, never heard of it, as I expected, this girl," She says pointing to herself, "Has one of those."
I look over at Ngozi smiling. She doesn't say nothing, I understand her smile to mean she knows but doesn't wanna say shit. She doesn't look to me either, only onwards.
"Girls it's rice and stew, my, our Dad cooked for our Mom because he came back earlier you get?" She replies. "Actually, I think it's more of everyday, yes, because Mom rarely comes back early, she's a lawyer na and all, our Dad is a movie producer in Alkebulan, so unless they're on a movie, it's just a few paperwork and coming back super early to the Wife and kids," We both chuckle.
"Ok, so na rice and stew una Ọkọ Man cook abi? Na meat or fish?" Ifeoma asks. Everyone laughs as Chidera slaps her forehead.
"Na only that one you hear Ifeoma," Samantha says drawing more laughter from us. She and Ifeoma were in each other's grasp, their hands interlocked together as they walk, I realize it was the the manner with which they had stepped into the shop earlier.
"Resti joor, wetin you want make I hear before? Food is life."
"I dey tell you sha," I reply.
"Wait o, so you two are like siblings na?" Samantha asks me, referring to I and Ngozi.
I smile and reply, "Noooo, but Nné, that's the story for another day abeg, I dey tell you..."
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