dear diary
Dear diary,
       Another week ends today, leaving me wishing I am far from home. Far from the ear piercing noises from my my grandma.
          I had just returned from the University of Lagos where I went to make enquiries about the processes involved in registration when I heard a knock on the gate. I thought it was mum returning from the market but when I opened the gate, I was shocked. My grandma stood in front of me with a medium sized 'Ghana must go' bag in her hands. This meant she had come to stay and that spelt trouble. 
          That was the beginning of countless hisses accompanied by admonishing words that lasted through out the week. She complained about everything. How my my knees do not touch the floor when I greet her. How mum did not slice the ugwu leaves just the way she liked it or how mum's food is always too salty for her taste buds.
        My mum who had acted like her dog, obeying her every will, became fed up when grandma questioned her right to motherhood. That fateful Thursday morning, I had got ready to go to the shop, when grandma screamed as I walked into the parlour.
       She called for my mother and accused her of letting me dress like a prostitute. My knee length skirt and long sleeved vest was far from indecent. I can still hear her words.
   "See wetin you dey teach this pikn! If na so your mama train you, no train my grandpikin like that. Later, you go talk say God no give you boy. How e go give you wen u no fit take care of your girls"
       I had to change my clothes while my mum sat on my bed crying. Dad was mad with rage when mum told him. Grandma began to cry when he spoke to her. She kept repeating that all she did was for the good of the house. Dad left her that night so that peace would reign but I don't think that peace will last long.
      So dear diary, all I wish for as I lay my pen to rest is that grandma leaves soon and mum finds the grace to stomach her troubles.

Your friend,

© Opetu Ebibote

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