AMANDA

Written by;
Honor C. Osuji

Amanda'... Her voice rolled from the kitchen like an erupting volcano. That was my grandma.

For a start I paused, shoved my head towards the kitchen made of mud, held my breath to hear her silently curse me, lurked my eyes to and fro to see which way she would emerge from. But no, she didnt curse and I saw no reflection of her.

'That's one.' I counted. 'Two to go.'

I placed the tenth palm kernel on the stone, tightened my grip on, and with full concentration I smashed!... the palm kernel laid in pieces... I had also smashed the nuts as well.

'Phew! What a waste!.'

I had watched Ego and Nneka perform the same smashing, it was no big deal to them, at one hit, the kernel splits into halves and the nut is picked'full baked'... just place the kernel on a stone and smash! atleast, that was what I saw them do, so I kept smashing the palm kernel together with its nut. This was the tenth time, and not one nut had found its way into my mouth.

What ever magic it was they used in getting their desired results, I was ignorant of it.
I placed another palm kernel on the stone, ready to take an eleventh try...

'Chimamanda!' Again she called.

I smiled. She had called my name in full this time.

'Two down, one to go'. My smile broadened.

Grandma never calls you more than thrice... If after the third time you pretend to be deaf she would actually try to make sure you go deaf for real.She would squeeze your ears clock-wise and anti clock-wise and end it with a resounding slap.

'May Amadioha strike you completely deaf if you hear me call you again!'

This time I knew what that meant. I dropped the stone I had in hand and reluctantly stood up, struggled to get my slippers on and dragged my feet lazily on the ground.
Grandma so much believed in Amadioha and the powers it possessed. Though I was a christain, I didn't want thunder striking me a day before my time. Even when Ego and Nneka tell me such dosent exist anymore, Grandma was the Amadioha itself... The Amadioha you could actually feel and touch.

I humbled myself before grandma, and gave that innocent look a child would give when he wanted bread.

Grandma's glaring eyes could send one to his early grave, she always gave me the 'I don't care about you look' she tossed my food on the floor. It was Okra soup, no fish, no meat no oil.... Just okra and foofoo.

My eyes were heavy with tears, there was no strength to hold back.

'... And what are you suppose to say?'

'T...tha...thank you ma!'

I watched grandma dish food for herself, her plate was filled with 'what have you'. The difference was clear.

'What are you still doing standing there like one of the trees in the evil forest... Get out!!!'
Like a snail, I retreated right back to my shell.

Was there any reason for me to be surprised? Grandma had always said I was a product of fornication, my father never married my mum before his death and the only reason why she harboured me was because of the promise she made to her son before his death blah! blah!! blah!!!

I got back to my kernel smashing business, still holding what was given to me as food in my hands.

'Chile' I called out, almost whistling at the same time.

Chile ran to me in delight, wagging its tail left to right. I settled her down to eat but behold, just one taste and she ran off.

Even a dog won't have that as food.

I sat down on the stool to continue from where I stopped...
Where was I?

Ow! I was about making my eleventh attempt