Wednesday, 17 January 2018


Hearing that engendered a deluge of boiling water running down through my innermost, that I could only react with anger. I rolled my red eyes to Mrs Ibrahim in utter visible bitterness, words travelled fast from my belly up to my lips, then I corked up the words that were ready to force out like a bullet, by abruptly closing my mouth. I saved myself a hot slap and more so I saved the day. 

"Alright ma, I just wanted to inform you." I said and I turned back. I was no longer angry but more worried about my mom.I didn't hear from dad, I was smart with my sister, Mrs Ibrahim is angry, and I'm also worried. I was completely in a state of confusion. My wit failed me, nothing was coming forth. I called mom's line repeatedly that I lost count.

I sat down on the bed like a cat that has just been soaked in a pool. I diverted my thought off mom's disappearance and decided to think about reasons why that could happen. I remembered for many years, until recently, my dad sometimes abused mom violently. I was in school one day when Mrs Ibrahim called me to come to the hospital. My mom was looking so purple, with bruises everywhere on her face, I thought it must have been a motor accident or a gang attacked her. But No! That was my dad. We all hated dad to the brim, we wished he was jailed but mom was against it. 

Then it got to a time dad suddenly changed, after much counselling though, because he claimed he doesn't  know what was wrong with him beating her and hitting her with unbelievable objects, that could make an innocent suspect confess to a crime he didn't commit. Dad started  caring so much for mom. They looked so real and new. We thought dad must be pretending and had no inclination to change, but this has been like that till now and I loved them the more.

He has always been caring even times when he started his violent act, he only took it to another level and the family was back to status quo ante. Mom couldn't disappear because of this because things were in place even till this morning. I didn't hear them argue over anything nor did I notice any strange thing in the house. 

My mom is a lavish spender, the cockroaches in the house also knows that. We sometimes joke about it that she must be the prodigal son of the Bible and everyone will laugh it off. What compliments this deficiency is her generous heart. Mom can give to the dead. She is hardworking and makes five times of what she spends just in few weeks. She was also too wise to let the company go bankrupt. 

"Why do you spend so much?" I asked her one day after she bought two rings that was worth a fortune. 

"Your dad complains little about it, your sisters loves it, you're the only one that complains too much. You've always been that different. Joy, I spend because God has blessed me, apart from securing your future and giving to the needy, the next thing is to enjoy myself and have all that I desire. My father was a stingy man, even to himself, I don't want to be like him, dear, there is no point in making money and not spending it. Just know that I am not as lavish as you think, you're only exaggerating." 

She said, pushed my head and we laughed. 

I noticed since that day, she changed and I was happy even though she may not know I noticed. How can mom therefore spend that much money like dad claimed and disappeared off to Dubai without any notice. I started finding it difficult to believe. 

"Would my dad lie, lie for what?' I said it out loud and heard a soft knock on my door. I stood up to check and it was Mrs Ibrahim. 


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