HATE AND HATRED [2]
Written by;
Honor Amaka O.
Oga landlord was having a shave when I walked into the compound; he stopped his shaving immediately his eyes met me. I had caught his attention.
‘Landlord good afternoon’ I greeted and tried to walk my way out of his presence. Noticing my hesitation to flee, he spoke;
‘I hear say you go find job… hope say you get?'
I looked at him, he was the most annoying man that was yet to die, but all the same I ignored him and walked away, he was really not worth my time.
‘You dey waka pass me abi!’ he shouted after me. ‘Na me and una for this house.’ He concluded by snapping his finger at me.
What did I care? He was the least of my problems.
Walking halfway into the corridor, I could hear Mama Chioma’s voice at the highest pitch.
There was no point asking who or what she was fussed about- it was certain that it was my mother. Probably she had come to request the money she was owed.
I stood rooted to the ground, waiting patiently for her to finish yelling and take her leave. It didn’t take long when she finished and advanced towards me, she must have taken note of my presence.
She panted as she spoke.
‘I want my money! The next time I come here, I am dragging your mother to the station. I have said my peace.’ With those threatening words of hers, she stormed out of our compound, pushing me out of her way.
Mother was always borrowing! She borrowed but never had the money to pay back.
The last few months of my being home from service, policemen had visited the house three consecutive times. I was sure during my absence I could record more than a dozen times. Mother would stay in police detention for days till I had money to settle her creditors. It was a pitiful situation.
Ngozi, the last of the five of us, lay sprawled on the floor when I walked into the small room we had rented. Her health was deteriorating with no sign of improvement at all. Mother had beads of sweat tingling down her wrinkled face. She was patting Ngozi to sleep.
Ngozi clocked fifteen last month and fell ill the following week. We all thought it was one of those sicknesses that could be cured by a pill or two until it extended to a month and still running.
‘Amaka!’ Mama called me. ‘How did it go?’
I heaved and sat on the bed. ‘It went well he said his working on it.’ I lied; I had no guts to spill the beans.
‘Ow! God bless him for me.’ Mama said as she began showering words of prayers on his behalf.
I looked on and shook my head at intervals. If only she knew the truth.
Dumebi my immediate younger sister came in minutes later with her oversized tommy, she was due to deliver anytime soon. I heaved at her sight; she had gotten pregnant for one useless boy who had promised to marry her, but there was no difference in the situation we were with that of the boy’s family. We were one of a kind.
That night I couldn’t sleep, I kept tossing and turning in bed. Gotten lost in my own thoughts again; I thought of the landlord and the arrears we owed him, I thought of Mama Chioma who had threatened us with a police arrest, I thought of my baby sister Ngozi who’s health was no story to tell, then I thought of Dumebi, who would be due to deliver any moment…
The next morning I picked up my phone and made a call.
‘Hello Sir it’s me Amaka… I’ve just thought about your proposal…
Honor Amaka O.
Oga landlord was having a shave when I walked into the compound; he stopped his shaving immediately his eyes met me. I had caught his attention.
‘Landlord good afternoon’ I greeted and tried to walk my way out of his presence. Noticing my hesitation to flee, he spoke;
‘I hear say you go find job… hope say you get?'
I looked at him, he was the most annoying man that was yet to die, but all the same I ignored him and walked away, he was really not worth my time.
‘You dey waka pass me abi!’ he shouted after me. ‘Na me and una for this house.’ He concluded by snapping his finger at me.
What did I care? He was the least of my problems.
Walking halfway into the corridor, I could hear Mama Chioma’s voice at the highest pitch.
There was no point asking who or what she was fussed about- it was certain that it was my mother. Probably she had come to request the money she was owed.
I stood rooted to the ground, waiting patiently for her to finish yelling and take her leave. It didn’t take long when she finished and advanced towards me, she must have taken note of my presence.
She panted as she spoke.
‘I want my money! The next time I come here, I am dragging your mother to the station. I have said my peace.’ With those threatening words of hers, she stormed out of our compound, pushing me out of her way.
Mother was always borrowing! She borrowed but never had the money to pay back.
The last few months of my being home from service, policemen had visited the house three consecutive times. I was sure during my absence I could record more than a dozen times. Mother would stay in police detention for days till I had money to settle her creditors. It was a pitiful situation.
Ngozi, the last of the five of us, lay sprawled on the floor when I walked into the small room we had rented. Her health was deteriorating with no sign of improvement at all. Mother had beads of sweat tingling down her wrinkled face. She was patting Ngozi to sleep.
Ngozi clocked fifteen last month and fell ill the following week. We all thought it was one of those sicknesses that could be cured by a pill or two until it extended to a month and still running.
‘Amaka!’ Mama called me. ‘How did it go?’
I heaved and sat on the bed. ‘It went well he said his working on it.’ I lied; I had no guts to spill the beans.
‘Ow! God bless him for me.’ Mama said as she began showering words of prayers on his behalf.
I looked on and shook my head at intervals. If only she knew the truth.
Dumebi my immediate younger sister came in minutes later with her oversized tommy, she was due to deliver anytime soon. I heaved at her sight; she had gotten pregnant for one useless boy who had promised to marry her, but there was no difference in the situation we were with that of the boy’s family. We were one of a kind.
That night I couldn’t sleep, I kept tossing and turning in bed. Gotten lost in my own thoughts again; I thought of the landlord and the arrears we owed him, I thought of Mama Chioma who had threatened us with a police arrest, I thought of my baby sister Ngozi who’s health was no story to tell, then I thought of Dumebi, who would be due to deliver any moment…
The next morning I picked up my phone and made a call.
‘Hello Sir it’s me Amaka… I’ve just thought about your proposal…
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