Dear Diary: No Place Like Home

chicken sauce
Dear diary,

 It's been two weeks since I last wrote to you. How could I have? Each day of the week was booked, either for medicines, hospital appointments, painful groans or ceaseless sleepless nights.  I finally went home, though Ikem had argued that all I needed was rest accompanied by proper medication and good food which he assured me of.
I didn’t doubt him, but how would he understand that no amount of good sleep and sumptuous meals could equal resting in my mother's arms. Not even a dozen of home delivered KFC chicken and chips could contend with Mum's Egusi soup, labelled with Okporoko, dry fish and fresh fish. Ikem wouldn’t understand these so I reserved the strength for the craziness awaiting poor me at home.

As he found a space to pull over at Ketu Bus stop, I said my “Goodbye” and kissed him after a long warm hug. It was a long journey for me, though he did the driving. Ikem waited and watched me take a bike home. Mama was elated. She kissed my forehead, thanked God for the life of ‘her daughter’ and wouldn’t let go of her arms wrapped around me until she heard a knock on the door,. My stay at home was blissful. Papa was always at work so there was no room for argument. For the first time since Mum began trading, she could trust someone else with her goods while she took care of me at home.

Those five days, I was trying to get back to the old me, Mum stayed at home and though Nkechi wasn’t pleased, she was the sales girl for five days under the supervision of Mummy praise. Being a loving neighbour and Mum oldest friend, Mum could trust her to guide Nkechi aright.
Everything went on smoothly until Saturday evening, when my body became so hot that mama could feel the heat just sitting next to me.

My head ached so much that mama's whispers were like nails riveting through my skull. My stomach turned like a towel being squeezed. Mama called the doctor, his response was that the symptoms would continue until I was done with the drugs; He assured her with  a calm, “your daughter would be fine”. His counsel that I should have a shower worked. Few minutes after 2AM, the night became tranquil and i dozed off.

Things would have ended peacefully if the next day wasn't a Sunday. The vigil birth a big quarrel when Papa was dressed for church and stormed into the kitchen by 8am to see mama clad in her wrapper preparing breakfast.  He asked why she wasn't dressed for church. "Daddy..., no be you dey here when that pikin dey sick for night, she no fit go church like that nau" she answered. He hit his hands angrily on the kitchen counter. "You spoil that girl too much.  When she gets to church, she will get her healing".

When mama stood her ground that I couldn't go to church the way I was. Papa flared up so hard I could hear him breathing from my room. They argued for almost twenty minutes. At some point, he said "if this girl goes to school and decides to follow man up and down, you caused it o" . That was what I heard last before I heard his footsteps as he stormed out of the house.  I wasn't bothered, I have known Papa for over two decades, when he is losing an argument, he brings in irrelevant things just to prove his point or leave guilt on the other person (as in this case).

Things went on smoothly after that. Only that Dad refused to talk to Mum except when he demanded his meal, so it was until Wednesday, when I returned to school. Back in school, it has been series of lectures, assignments and loads of notes waiting to be copied. This is Saturday and I haven't even had time to see Ikem.

I am fine now except that my roommate is beginning to annoy me. How can some people think that the hostel is their father's house? I have not even finished complaining, the she-glutton has taken my plate off my table again. Some people will soon hear my voice in this room, in fact, in the hostel. Till next week.

Your Friend,

Me.

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