Friday, 26 January 2018


Episode 6

"Can I come in?" Mrs Ibrahim asked like a frail child that was just recovering from malaria.

"Entrez." (Come in) I gestured and she smiled. She was one of those that found my love for French so funny and would often send Mary off to my room when she disturbs her, Mary would come in, jumping up and giggling. I know the next thing she was going to say 'Mom said you should teach me French.' Not until recently she stopped coming, because of the masqueraded misunderstanding that I didn’t know about.

Mrs Ibrahim entered my room, and unlike before, she sat on my study chair rather than the bed. That was not a problem, I was only interested in the sharp contrast of her action and her coming to my room.

"What did you say happened to your mom?"

"I don't really know, I'm not sure about anything. I have only been calling her and her number isn't going through."

"But I saw her leave for work this morning, and besides, it's not yet time for her to close at work. When it's 5PM and she is still not back let me know."

She said and I quickly checked the time, it was half past 4. Mrs Ibrahim is a very hardworking and intelligent woman, and very good at her profession, though people say behind her back that she was not intelligent enough to marry the wrong man who made her life so miserable before he finally disappeared with her properties.

However, she dialed her number in my presence.

"Call me when it's 05:30pm, I will be in the house. Please can Mary come around? She won't let me rest. " Mrs. Ibrahim said.

"Oh, no problem ma."

I kept on calling if her number will finally go through, Mary pushed the door in with her tiny body, giggling, jumping and making some indistinct sounds like a faulty radio.

"How are you?"

"Am fine aunt. My mummy said you should teach me French."

I revised with her as I continued to check the time at every tickling of the clock. It was finally half past five and I couldn't bear the incessant agita, I held Mary's hand abruptly and I was close to dragging her, the poor 5 years old girl raised her eye brow with her big eye ball and watched in confusion as I pulled her through. Mrs Ibrahim startled me again with 'let your dad come home.' I finally knew that she doesn't necessarily care. Without saying a word I left angrily, I called dad's line as soon as I entered the room.

"Hey dad, where are you?"

"I'm at a meeting and I might be late or not come home tonight."

"What about mom, have you reached her?" I asked, patiently waiting for him to talk, but it took him more than ten seconds to reply, I thought the network was bad.

"Yes, I've reached her, but let's talk about it when I get back."

I was more than happy to hear that, yet I wondered how he was able to reach her. It suddenly dawned on me that I was so foolish and not logical, kicking myself and calling someone that had left the border of Nigeria. I took a shower again and ate a plate of spaghetti that was left over in the morning.

I knew somewhere in me I was still restless. I lay on the bed and prayed silently, dad's car horn made me realized I slept off already. It was past ten. I jumped out of the bed to welcome him and hear the full episode of this saga, I had so many questions that he can provide answers to. He came in and I welcomed him warmly.

"So, dad--"

"Joy, please I'm very tired, let's talk tomorrow." Dad cut in and walked away, giving me no chance to say anything at all.  I stood on the spot longer than the statue of liberty, wondering and trying to contain the drama.

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