"My PromoMentors Writing Challenge" *The Day My Mother Couldn't Say Welcome.

It was 2007. I was in my third year at the university. The pressure of studying the English language and literature was already telling on me. I was losing focus as well as the will to study. I had not failed a course yet though, so I was still safe.

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If you know my father; the man himself as I call him, you will know that he is not the emotional type. He does not call you out of the blue to ask after your welfare no matter how much he misses you. So it was a surprise when out of the blue, my phone rang and the phone screen showed the caller ID; popsy. It was so surprising, I breathed deeply.

I rolled my thumb over the screen, thinking of what I had been up to in the past month and if I had met anyone from home who might have ratted me out to him. Yes I had been up to no good, I tell you; lots of weed, alcohol, girls and those things teenagers love to do when they still believe the world was a woman who loved them dearly. Anyway, no snitch came to mind, so I picked the call.

The first thing I noticed was that his voice shook. At first I thought it was the network but on listening closely, I realized that his voice was shaking with emotion; the man was crying. He said four words;

your mother is sick.

Mumsy is sick? Is that one news? We fall sick all the time now. Mosquitoes won't let us be. We have been treating malaria parasite for as long as I can remember; what else is new?.

Angry at being disturbed over a trivial matter as my mother’s illness, I promised to go home over the weekend and that ended the call.

Normally,when I came home from where ever I had wandered to, I was welcomed like a prodigal son; hot water bath, my favourite dish or something close, new bed sheets on my bed; the whole works... but this time, there was no one at the door to sing my glory. I pushed the door open and saw so many shoes, slippers, sandals filling up the entrance. For the first time, I became worried. What will make my family gather like this? Did something bad happen?

I entered the foyer and walked into the sitting room. My aunties; my mother’s younger sisters, were gathered on a sofa backing me. My elder brothers and their wives, girlfriends and children were scattered all over the place.

Osahon you came?

Was the question I got. I was too confused to give a suitable reply and then, the crowd shifted and there she sat;

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the woman I owe everything that is me, my first champion, my first love;
She sat there and she smiled. She was happy to see me, you see. She was excited that I came, you understand. She should have had a sarcastic remark for me but nothing came. She could not speak the words.

I thought it was over excitement or something but when the words came, they were a slow stutter.

My mother never stuttered. She was never slow. She was the most active woman I know. But there she was staring at me with joy and all I could hear from her lips were babbles and gurgles. I could see the sadness in her eyes when she realized she could not say the words she wanted to say. She shook her head, sighed and turned away.

The bodies around her then shoved her from sight like the sun being covered by dark clouds. I turned around , searching for something familiar but all I saw was pain.

My father came and led me into his room. We sat down and he spoke. That was the first and last time I saw my father cry. All he kept saying was;

What will I do now? What will I do now? She is all I have.

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He said this to me as if I had answers. I was still reeling from what I had seen. So being me, I asked for details.

He had been called from the office by mother’s colleagues at the school she taught in. He had been informed that while teaching, she had suddenly collapsed. He had rushed to the school to pick her up and bring her home.

According to the doctors, her right side was paralysed, dead. I swallowed the details in silence, then I left the house.

They found me at the back, under the sun crying. They consoled me but that day changed everything in my life and family. It remains the most memorable day of my life, I tell you. I Will never forget the look on her face when she saw me, until I die. Never!

Peace

©@warpedpoetic.