Last updated on May 19th, 2023 at 08:21 am
It’s been a week since I asked Jude to help me print my documents from his office. And I’d heard all forms of excuses, including, ‘Our printer at work has spoilt,’ ‘There was no ink when I tried printing,’ ‘Lape, please I am tired,’ ‘I had a very busy day at work.’ I would have to print it myself, it was just that his printing the documents for me showed that he was on board with it.
***
Sunday was actually a more stressful day than we liked to admit. We just got back from church. I dropped Dimeji on the floor, and he quickly crawled away from me. Poor boy, he must be tired of me carrying him all through the service in the church.
Pulling my shoes, I sighed. Now I had to head straight to the kitchen. Left to me, I would just take cornflakes and sleep. But I am responsible for two people right now and I cannot afford that.
I changed Dimeji’s clothes and diapers and went into the kitchen. Jude was watching TV after taking a shower. Thankfully, I had made stew yesterday and all I needed to do now was to boil rice. After putting water on the cooker to boil, I went into the room. In front of the mirror, I started pulling my scarf and my clothes. I was about to remove my necklace when my phone rang. Who could it be?
“Hello mummy.”
“Lape dear. How are you, my daughter?
“I am fine, ma. Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon jare, how is your oga and my grandson?”
“They are fine ma.”
“Good, we thank God. I hope you went to church today, ehnn?”
“Yes ma, we went to church. How is daddy?”
“My husband is fine o. But that’s not why I called you.”
“Oh, okay ma. Why did you call?”
“Is this a good time to talk?”
“Wait, I will call you in about 10 minutes ma.”
“Ah, okay. Because the matter is a bit serious o.”
“I’ll call you back, ma.” I said and disconnected the call.
I went into the kitchen, poured rice into the boiling water, and went back into the room. I went into the bathroom and took a shower. I did not bother drying my body as I came back inside the room and dialed Mummy’s number. She picked on the first ring.
“Ehnehn Lape.”
“Ma?”
“You know you are married and you have started a family now. So what are your next plans?”
“Next plans? How?”
“Hmmm, Dimeji has started crawling, you should be planning to take in again.”
“Mummy?”
“What is it?”
“He still sucks, you know?”
“Then you wean him and face having another child. Do everything fast fast. The next 10 years of your life should be dedicated to your family and nothing else.”
“Nothing else? Like?”
“Like nothing. Don’t even think you can work and raise a family. If you take your children to daycare, do you know what they would do to them there?”
“Hmmm.”
“This is not a matter of hmm. You are not one of those career women, whose families take a backseat when it comes to their career. I did not raise you that way. It is greed! If your husband is taking care of you and your children, what else do you need that would make you be applying for a job?!”
I did not remember mentioning it to Mummy that I wanted to get a job. Could Jude have told her? Why would he do such?
“Lape. Lape. Are you there?” Mummy’s voice on the other end brought me back from my thoughts.
“Mummy, I am here. I have heard you.”
“Don’t just hear me please, you have been married for a year plus. That should still be your focus. Work to protect your home. Your job is your home, have you heard me?”
“Yes ma, thank you ma.”
“God bless you my daughter. So think about what I have told you concerning having a second child. I would ask the pastor to also call you.”
“He doesn’t have to call na, mummy. I would think about what we discussed.”
“Is he a stranger that he cannot call you? Abi the five minutes prayer that he would do on the phone is too much?”
“Okay, ma. Thank you.”
“You too, thank you. A word is enough for the wise. Greet your oga for me, bye bye.”
“Bye bye ma.”
Mummy’s pastor rarely called me except when Mummy needed him to deliver a vision to me. And he never spends less than 10 minutes during such calls. Like when I was in Lagos and mummy was threatening me to come home, he called. When I was preparing for my wedding, he called and told me to submit to Jude and be humble, that Jude was my destined husband and marrying him would be the best decision of my life. He even told mummy and me to fast for seven days before the wedding. The fasting ended on the day of my traditional wedding, which was the same day I did my court wedding.
I was so hungry and dizzy at the time we eventually started the traditional wedding in the evening that I went to the side of the house to eat, only to see mummy herself dragging cow meat with her teeth. She had a bottle of malt beside her. By some unspoken agreement, we decided not to talk about the issue. I took her drink from the floor beside her and drank it all in one gulp. I dropped the bottle, turned back, and left to go sit down beside Jude under the canopy again.
When I gave birth to Dimeji, the pastor called me. He told me I was lucky to have birthed a king. He said having a son first was an indication of good things to come. He concluded the call that day by saying that I should not cut Dimeji’s hair for six months, something about Samson in the bible.
Now though, I thought: why would Jude tell mummy such? I had always refrained from telling mummy my marital troubles except when I was really confused and Jude was icing me out. But Jude obviously felt comfortable and it was worth noting that he wasn’t so busy, if he could call mummy to tell her this. I was sure he even told her to act like she didn’t know anything. But mummy easily loses control of her emotions, so it was only normal that she would slip.
I dressed in my nightie and went into the kitchen. If I had not come in, the rice would have started burning. I added more water to the rice and brought the pot of stew out of the fridge.
“Come and carry your son o.” Jude said. Dimeji started crying. Maybe he was hungry or his diaper was soiled. I wiped my hands on my gown and rushed out.
