‘She has refused to eat anything since the last Eke market day,’ Mma whispered to me in her tears.
‘So this is you Ikem my son,’ Mother said in a voice I strained to hear.
‘Yes, mama.’ I answered and knelt down to place my ear closer to her mouth.
‘Ikem, my son,’ she called again and again.
‘Nne, you have really seen hard and sad times. I am sorry, Nne. You will be fine.’ I said.
‘If this would be my final achievement in life, to see you grow into a man, I will die a happy death. That is my joy.’ She said and paused.
I gradually sat up and looked at my sister. She was too young to shoulder the pain of our entire household. With the little I saw I knew that she must have invested her time to care for Mother. I drew her close and wiped away her tears. An astonishing silence filled the hut. She was happy that I was home again, but unhappy that Mother could not stand on her feet again. She could have hugged me. We could have stood and formed a circle and talk into many things.
Soon I was hearing faint voices. It was voices of young men, but it was coarse. It was Uzor and Obi – the two boys who cried alongside Mother on our parting day, had grown into young men and helped greatly in the housework meant for the men. I heard ‘whaaam’ twice. It was the sound their head loads of firewood and goat food made as it hit the ground. The first voice called Nne twice and muttered some word.
‘I am really hungry here,’ one told the other.
I did not know which one of them had the voice I heard. That they were hungry touched me. We waited silently in the room for them. I was determined that I would ensure that I made it up to them all they had lost to hardship.
‘Mma must be busy attending to Mother,’ another voice said.
‘She should also know that we have not eaten anything for the day,’ Uzor replied.
‘Let’s not conclude yet. Let’s get into Nne‘s room and see how she is.’
They entered and on sighting me, Obi shouted ‘Nnaa is back’.
I was nnaa because I was the first son and Mma was nne because she was the first girl in the house. That was how it was called in many ancient Igbo home. It was a way to show respect for headship. As one grows, his siblings seized calling him by his own name if they had been so doing.
The announcement plunged them into my waiting arms and we hugged. They would have thrown me down had I not pinned my feet firm down to the ground. They had grown big, well-built and strong. They were just like our late father in structure and appearance. They were his reincarnation. His face flashed at me again. Among the four of us they took after father, while I and Mma took to Mother.
‘So, Nne has been sick and you did not tell me?’ I asked.
My question caught them off guard. They made eye contact and looked down. They accepted guilty for hiding it for long but defended themselves by insisting that Mother asked them not to tell me. It was not far from what Mma had told me earlier. I noticed that they retained that natural fear which our culture expected them to have for me as an elder brother and I was proud of them. They are one of the many things that civilization did not change.
‘She could not allow us send message across to you. Uzor managed to send message through someone. She said she will be fine,’ Obi said.
That was another testimony to what Mma had told me earlier. Obi held me by my right hand and Ikem by my left. I felt honored and loved again by my own people. I grew a soft water inside me and my heart was almost melting. I was already in love for this gesture. I had missed such gesture for long. Mother had withdrawn into silence. We sat and chatted till midnight. Mma ran in and out of the kitchen and joined us several times in our discussion till the food was done. They told me many stories about people who had long died, the latest couple in the village, boys and girls that make things happen, the remaining families that had never joined church, the new school by the stream path and many other gossips.
That night, we ate the yam Mma had cooked with red oil and otazi leaves grounded with pepper. It was a really good combination and Mma made it well. Mother could not eat anything although I pleaded with her to. She had been like this as I was told for a long time.
When it was time to sleep; we said our monotonous songs and prayers, knelt and hand-locked ourselves. After our prayers, my siblings insisted they would sleep by me in Mother’s room but I begged them to sleep in their rooms because Mother’s room needed to be well ventilated for her.
That night I sat close to Mother and while she slept on her mud bed, I slept with Mma on the mat. At the heart of the night, Mother’s breathing became heavy and she struggled for air. Mma and I sat up and called her. Fear overwhelmed me and forced me to go outside to catch my breath. Outside I watched the twinkling stars, the night was beautiful, silent and bare except for the sound of a bird at the top of the tree.
When I returned inside, I perceived an unusual smell. It oozed out of her body. I knew death was near at the door. Soon, Obi and Uzor joined us on hearing our voices. Mother gave a wry smile and started saying strange things. She began slowly and quietly, her words barely audible. My heart began to beat fast and my head swam. I listened with mixed feelings.