‘Papa, I am deeply sorry that you have gotten it all wrong. You say things that have never really come to my mind. It is unfortunate that death snatches people we need most in our lives at the wrong time to make us suffer, say and do things we may live to regret. Look at all the children playing outside, anyone that accepts to live here with you, you can have him, if you don’t want them to go back with me then let them remain here with you. I would be coming here to see them. You are my parents and have really tried to make me happy, so I will try to make you happy too.’ Mother said, but she did not mean it. If she had meant what she said, she would have issued a command to any of us and we would have agreed immediately to stay. She did not want us to acquire bad behaviors, which she believed was prevalent outside home. I did not like the idea of staying back too. But Mother made it look like we were unwilling to stay back with our grandparents.
‘Uzor, Ikem, come here both of you.’ Our grandfather called us.
We ran to him, looking at him to make his demand.
‘You will remain here with us while your Mother goes. She would be coming to see you. Will you stay?’ He asked.
Neither I nor Uzor replied his question. We looked at each other. This was the way we communicated when we want to save ourselves from trouble. My grandfather looked into my eyes and nodded me to accept. He knew the answer to his question was ‘no’, when I looked down. He pulled out a small bottle from his goatskin bag, uncorked it, took his utaba knocked it thrice on his knees and pushed it far into his nostril. He sneezed at intervals and his eyes were filled with tears, and the old man rubbed the end of his nose and eyes with the back of his free left hand, while we watched him with keen interest. Grandfather! He was a good hand in this kind of food he ate with his two noses. He knew the old way of it and all the skills needed were applied at each time he was eating it. It never goes without tears.
I turned and looked at my grandmother, who also looked into my eyes. It was an emotional moment, I really felt for grandma as I am sure she must have felt for me. This period had been the closest I had stayed with her since the death of my father when I was but a boy. Gradually, I was losing the grip of naturalness and her looking assured me that I would well be cared for if I ever agreed to stay with them. Her eyes dilated like a child as she again looked hopefully at me and drew me closer, held me by the neck and shook me excitedly.
Grandfather smiled toothlessly and asked us to go and play with my cousins.
An earshot from where we were, we heard grandma and grandpa accuse Mother of spoiling us by giving us too much attention. We also heard Mother denying it. The day was slowly drawing to a close. I prayed their discussions would be short, to save our time. I wanted to go back home to our large-hearted compound, because of my position in the family, to be mine someday. That spirit had been rooted in me for long.
Soon, Mother hastened to prepare for the journey back home and called us one at a time. It was evening and soon it would be dark. So we said a little prayer to our grandfather’s chi for protection on the way back home. How dear it was! We said our goodbyes and we were on our way. Grandmother lavished many gifts on us and told us that she would soon pay us a visit. The journey was long and we had to start as early as possible to reach on time.
We finally reached home very late that night. Mother was tired and could not eat anything. She quickly brought out from her basket a boiled corn that her Mother had given her and warmed it. We were hungry and she could see it in our eyes. We had not eaten anything that day except the yam we ate together with our grandmother in the morning. Playing had taken our whole day and it gave us a pleasure. We could not eat before we left because Mother was in haste. Hunger pinched at us so much that we felt as if we were going to die. However, Mother gave us some maize and as we nibbled at it, we felt life return to us gradually. She found her happiness in our happiness, her joy in our joy, her laughter in our laughter, her warm in our warm, which was why she gave us the maize while she went hungry. This left me sad.
I now realized her reasons for not allowing us to stay with her parents. No one could love us the way she would, no one could care for us the way she would. She hated to be separated from us as long as she was alive. She wanted it said that she made us whatever we become in the future.
It was true.