“Debo, come inside this minute, dust the footmat and shut my door. No one must go out of this house today until I say so” My father bellowed.
Obeying my father’s stern orders that were like prison orders was an easier task than washing plates but not again. Not after seeing my mother packing her things to leave the house while my father looked on without saying a word to stop her earlier today. The both of them had fought yesterday night, he was sure of that.
He could still remember the dream that had him sweating profusely, last night. He had woken up breathing heavily and suddenly scared of the dark, contemplating whether to lay down or attend to nature’s call, go to the toilet two rooms away and empty his painfully full bladder.
A few minutes of contemplation was all it took for him to jump out of his bed and race off towards the toilet without light. With the fear of the dark still lurking around, he paused by the living room’s curtain to make his way to the toilet by feeling the wall, and doors while hitting his legs and big toe on some obstacles on the way. Blaming the dream for instilling such fear was easy, he would have raced towards the toilet and would have been back to his room, the urge to return to bed and resume his dream if he could was greater than the darkness itself. He needed to know why his father was chasing his mother with a pestle in that dream and why people witnessing the act just stood there looking at him chasing her, they made no attempt to stop him or help his mother hideaway.
Why was the toilet still far away?
The toilet was like an adjoining room to his parent’s bedroom. He was almost there and it was time to tiptoe. Quietly, he made his way to the toilet’s door, opening it carefully so as not to wake his mother who does not sleep heavily. It worries him always that his mother finds it difficult to sleep and when she eventually does, she sleeps lightly so lightly that a drop of pin could wake her, leaving her fully awake till day break.
Iya Debo, as his mother was popularly referred to by everyone had once told him the doctor said she has insom.. something, he had made a mental note to check for the meaning of the word from his elementary school’s library but since forgot to do so. He must remember to check it in school on Monday.
His mother was the only reason he prays to God to conquer her sleepless nights and that none of his two siblings or himself should wake up to urinate to avoid disturbing her while opening the toilet door that squeaks so loud even at the slightest touch, the door was a bad one, so bad it was at the risk of falling off, it would have fallen off if not for the barb wire his father had used to hold it in place two months ago.
Baba Debo has refused to call Saka the carpenter to do the repairs.
The last time they tried to raise the topic of repairing the toilet door to his father, he snapped at them and said,
“Manage it that way, I will hold it with a strong wire, and it won’t fall if you kids are careful. And Anyone at whose hand it falls off will have to answer to my judgement”
Baba Debo’s judgement is not a pleasant sight to behold so they had since stopped bringing up the door’s issue since that day.
No one dares bring it up again.
He was through using the toilet and was about to close the door and leave when he held a repressed noise that sounded like muffled cries and someone else’s harsh and scolding voice. Curious, he moved away from the toilet’s door towards the source of the sound, lo and behold it was coming from his parent’s bedroom. He was dazzled, never has he seen them bicker at each other, at the middle of the night at that.
Who is that crying? His mother? His father appears to be the one shouting, why?
He moved closer and saw the door slightly ajar, he moved closer to peep in and listen but could barely grasp anything. All he heard were murmurs.
Minutes passed when he thought to open the door slightly further, he was about to do so, when he saw his father moving towards the door with a very angry expression on his face. He turned on his heels and ran blindly towards his room miraculously missing the obstacles on the way and making no noise. He mouthed a prayer of thanks to God because if his father had caught him, it would have been a different story.
Curiosity about what was happening in his parent’s bedroom and the will to resume the previous dream had him turning back and forth on his bed until a mild headache forced him to eventually fall asleep.
That was all that happened to me yesterday night, just few hours ago… until this drama unfolding as I stayed by the door watching helplessly as my mother struggled to mount her baggage onto the lorry waiting by the crooked steps that led to our parlor. Earlier that morning, I had woken up to my father’s heavy footsteps on the concrete floor. I knew something was wrong. I came out right on time to witness my beloved father hurling my mother’s belongings out of the house onto the veranda with all the might I have never seen him exert before. All my pleas, questions, and cries fell on deaf ears. He shoved me off his way all the time I tried to stop him, my father was like a menacing beast at that moment.
My mother did not make any attempt to move her loads back inside or plead with him. She just stood at a corner loosening and retying her wrapper above her breasts. A few hours later, she dressed up and went out. Now, here she is, packing her loads into the lorry she came back with. As soon as she was done, she shouted at the top of her voice to tell the driver to come to tighten the loads together, then she started moving towards me, she stopped a breath away from me and said,
“Okomii, I will come back for you when the time is right. Make sure to eat well, do your school works well, and don’t miss me. Anything your father tells you about me is all lies. I’m a good mother but I have to leave to survive for you”
I did not respond as everything was just so strange to me. I have a lot of questions. What happened between them last night? Why does she have to leave? Without me? What was her offense? She held me closer and squeezed me tightly in an embrace.
“Debo, shogbo? Answer me”
“Can’t you just beg him, mother?” I spoke out suddenly.
“Beg him? That son of a gun? Oluhun mii o ni je” She vehemently replied while moving her hand over her head in demonstration of the swear.
She hugged me tightly again, pulled my cheeks playfully, and turned towards the lorry.
“Mama, come back! Mother, please come back!” I screamed.
The last I saw of my mother was her waving at me from the window of the lorry.
“Please, don’t leave me” I screamed again, my voice echoing in sync with the disappearing lorry.
“Debo, come inside this minute, dust the footmat and shut my door” my father bellowed.
“No!” I screamed back at him, left the footmat untouched, opened the door more widely and turned to walk away.
