Øgbanjé. Part 10.
My husband and I couldn’t stop staring at our son in disbelief.
“Our miracle baby”.
I spent a week in the hospital because my case was a special one. I never attended antenatal for once, so series of check ups and medications were administered to me.
It wasn’t really easy for me because everything was sudden and unplanned for. There wasn’t enough time to start processing my mother’s Visa so she could come over for omugwo. She doesn’t even have an international passport to begin with.
I had to defer schooling for a year so I could take proper care of my son.
My husband assisted in the little way he could despite his busy schedule at work.
You know, I had to be strong as a Nigerian woman for my family.
I was doing the laundry when my husband returned from work.
“How is Chibuike”. My husband asked as soon as he walked into the house.
“Chibuike is in the room by the left”. I said.
I took his briefcase from him while he hurried to the bedroom where our son, Chibuike was.
“Honey he is not here”. He screamed.
“What do you mean? I laid him there myself”. I screamed as I rushed to the bedroom.
Lo and behold, Chibuike wasn’t there. My heart sank.
I ran upstairs only to find him there giggling.
I quickly grabbed him. “Honey! He is here”. I screamed out.
As soon as I carried him, he started crying.
My husband rushed upstairs and snatched Chibuike from me. “How did he end up here? I thought you said you left him downstairs”. He asked while rocking Chibuike.
I stood confused. “I thought I did”. I stuttered.
Chibuike was only 5months old when this happened.
***. ****. ***. ****. ***
15YEARS LATER.
My husband and I had already achieved so much in Canada. I was registered nurse. We’ve built over four houses in Nigeria.
Chibuike is almost done with high school. We never had any other child after him.
Chibuike is what I will call a “Beautiful handsome boy”. Even as an African child, his skin doesn’t look like it. Except from his kinky hairs and his African nose, one would hardly believe he’s a Canadian only by birth.
He was precocious, little wonder his excellent results.
My mother passed a month earlier.
We were getting prepared to travel back to Nigeria for my mother’s burial 🥺.
My mother only came to visit me twice in my 15yrs in Canada.
“Mom! Did you by chance see my ipad? I kept it underneath the table but can’t find it”. Chibuike demanded looking frûstrated.
“Check very well. I haven’t been to your room today”. I said and continued packing.
“Gosh!!! I’m tired man!”. He exclaimed and angrily stormed out of my room.
I shook my hèad in pity. “When I was your age, I didn’t know what an ipad was”. I said as though he could hear me.
The next morning, we flew back to Nigeria.
It was a very long and tedious flight.
My younger sister picked us at the airport. We got to our apartment in the village at exactly 10:00pm.
“Why is everywhere so dark in Nigeria?”. Chibuike asked.
No doubt, everywhere was dark although some privileged elites turned on their generators which made lots of unpleasant sounds.
My sister couldn’t help but laugh.
“Welcome to Nigeria Chibuike”. She said amidst laughter.
“No Aunt! I’m Chris. I don’t like that name. My mom won’t stop calling me that archaic name”. Chibuike protested.
“Meshionu ósisó”. I rebuked him.
“Let him be. The ones that grew in Nigeria are intransigent not to talk about the one that grew abroad”. My sister said.
My husband was obviously tired as he fell asleep as soon as he freshened up.
I let Chibuike sleep in one of the rooms while I stayed downstairs with my sister gisting.
After a while, Chibuike stormed downstairs angrily.
“Mom I can’t sleep”. He blurted out.
“What’s the problem?”. I asked concernedly.
“What’s making those noise? My ears are bléédîng already”. He fumed angrily.
My sister couldn’t help but laugh.
“Chibuike… I mean Chris”. She chortled. “You have to get used to this noise because we haven’t had light since months”. She spilled.
“Is Nigerian truly a zôó like I heard from my friends?”. He asked tactlessly.
“You are too inquisitive. Put on your headphones till you fall asleep”. I shouted.
“Urg!!! You are boring, mom! I want to go back already”. He said and went back upstairs.
My sister couldn’t stop laughing.
“What’s so funny huh?”.
“He is your carbon copy sis. I remember how you used to give papa tough times. That man really suffered at your hands”. She said still laughing.
“You remember I’m still your elder right? I’m still belligerent. Don’t think Canada changed me”. I feigned anger.
“My big Sist”. She said and forced a hug on me. I kept pushing her away but she was truly persistent. We both ended up laughing.
The next few days were really hectic. I ran around with my siblings in preparation for my mother’s burial.
My husband travelled to his village to see his people and also to inspect the houses we built there. He wanted to go with Chibuike but I wouldn’t hear of it.
He travelled back a day to my mother’s burial with some of his relatives.
My mother’s burial was a success. There was enough to eat and drink.
Two days to when we were supposed to travel back to Canada, something happened that we couldn’t even travel again.
To be continued.
I apologize for the long break.
Written by Judith Onyoyibo
