Mama’s Baby

I slammed the door shut as I sneaked inside my house, then I kicked my shoes off making sure not to switch on the lights In my apartment. I wasn't hiding from anybody in particular, but I just didn't want disturbance from any of my neighbours, not even Mama Chinedu. I was so exhausted that all I needed was a good rest and food, then a cold shower.

"Nawa o Problem" I exclaimed, realising my plight wasn't over. I still needed to go make dinner. I didn't even know how possible that would be because I was down to my last strength.

"I should have bought food from a restaurant," I whispered to myself in the dark corner of my apartment where I sat tiredly. But then I remembered my last experience with food poisoning after I had bought food from a restaurant on my way home. I sighed and stretched myself out.

"Life was better when I was a baby", I muttered. "My mother's baby", I added, sucking my teeth. Realising that as much as adulthood is good, it has its problems, too.

Then I thought of my mother and when I was still in the East with them. I thought of how she does it. Coming back home from work late in the night and still making dinner for the family. I knew Mama loved cooking, but I just couldn't figure out where she got her strength to be in the kitchen all the time, even on days she was exhausted.

I smiled. "My superwoman", I mutter again. Then I picked up my phone to call her.

A few seconds after Mama's voice rang from the other side of the phone

"Nwam o My baby o" she called me in her sonorous voice.

I felt chills run down my body and peace in my heart. That's just what her voice does to me. "Mummy, Kedu? how are you?" I asked in a tired voice.

"I'm fine, but are you?" She asked, probably sensing the tiredness in my voice.

"Your daughter is just tired o. I'm just returning from work, " I replied, in a childish manner.

"Sorry. Have you eaten?" She asked concerned.

"I’m too tired to even think of cooking. It's not easy hassling between coming back from work and going to the market to buy foodstuffs. And on days I have foodstuffs, my work will make sure to drain me of everything so that I won't have the strength to cook." I complained like a baby complaining to the mother.

"Nwam o My baby" she called again, her concern rising. "Take it easy, eh? Just try this night and cook something to eat even if it's noodles. Then shower; you'll be fine," she consoled me.

Then we spoke at length on other issues from family to my of I was in a relationship and every possible gossip one could think of. It was usually soothing talking to Mama. She had a way of making everything look easy and manageable. Although Lagos life was nothing but unmanageable.

A few days later, I got home from work to see a large sack sitting at my doorstep. Confused and scared, I knew I wasn't expecting anything from anyone. Already I was exhausted.

I called Mama Chinedu to find out if it was her package that was mistakenly delivered to my door.

"No Zerah. It's not mine," I heard her yell from the phone. The noise from her end was much, she might be in a party. I thought.

Then I summoned courage and walked up to the bag and checked it well. Taped to it's side was a note with a familiar handwriting

“For my baby. Love, Mama.”

I laughed at my sheet stupidity and how I had gotten scared over a sack. At the same time, wondering what was inside the sack. Mama was always full of surprises. With the last strength in me, I opened my door and dragged the bag inside. My curiosity growing to know its content.

When I was fully inside and settled. I untied the knot, and immediately, my apartment was filled with the aroma of different foodstuffs one could think of. Each one carefully sealed in a separate bag.

Suddenly, my eyes caught a bottle of groundnut, my favourite snack as a child. I poured a few into my hands, then threw them into my mouth with eyes closed I munched on them, taking my time to savour each crush.

Then I smiled, picked up my phone and called Mama.

"Hello, "Mama called as she answered my call.

"Mama, you didn’t have to…” I said. My voice was overwhelmed with gratitude.

"N,o I have every reason to. You're still my baby and I couldn't concentrate knowing how tough it was for you going to the market to buy foodstuffs."

"So you had to spend money for me?" I asked.

"Of course, are you not my baby? I've always told you, no matter how old you grow, you'll always be my baby,” Mama said. "Anyways, one of your cousins was coming to Lagos and I asked him to help deliver them to you." She added, there was pride in her tone.

“Thank you," I said, my voice fully with gratitude.

"Now make sure to eat well. Also, check one of those smaller sacks; there's Abacha African salad inside there. You can prepare them just as you like" she said.

"Mama Mia!" I hailed her in my usual manner, laughing at the same time.

"You can say that again," she replied,d laughing at her end too. Then she dropped the call.

I stood up and walked to my kitchen with some of the foodstuffs in my hands. The sight of them had made me forget how exhausted I was for the day. Instead, I wore a big smile on my face knowing truly that I am and will always be Mama's baby.

Glossary:

Nawa o Problem
Nwam o My baby o
Kedu? how are you?
Abacha African salad

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