10:17 am
Abuja, F.C.T.
'It's okay,' Eartha said, as her husband veered into the long-term parking. But it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.
Mide was humming softly as he went down the parking garage.
She punched him lightly in the arm.
'Yes, Raspberry Ripple?' he turned to her as he pulled into a parking spot.
'Mide!' She sounded petulant. 'Aren't you even worried?'
Mide's sigh could have easily launched a ship. 'She'll be fine, come on.'
'I'm just worried, she's never been to somewhere like that before. And she seemed pretty riled up about it. We should have at least gone back for the tablet, what if she needed us?'
'And miss our flight? Babes, she's just mad at us, which is natural. And she's in the safest hands there, nothing could possibly harm her there.' He got out of the car and made for the boot. 'C'mon, we've got about an hour to spare, let's go to the duty-free.'
But Eartha wasn't as convinced, she still had a bad feeling about leaving her daughter in the village, even after forty minutes of shopping and chatting with strangers she was still ill at ease.
On the long journey all that was on her mind was guilt.
12:35 pm, September 3,
Kogi State.
Eniiyi walked as slowly as possible. She was still sulking since four days she'd been here. Counting the days sure did not help but it's not like there was something else to do.
'Walk faster.' Lastborn pulled at her elbow. It was obvious it was all the boy could do not to break into a run. 'Eniiyi now,' he whined when her velocity seemed to have reduced instead of increase.
'Stop whining,' she snapped, annoyed and then pulled up her headphones to cover her ears. 'It's not like I wanted to go, anyways. I just wanted to see the babies, that's why I'm following you.'
Lastborn rolled his eyes. 'Duh.'
Eniiyi saw him mouth it. 'Duh, to you, too,' she shot back and frowned. Lastborn was starting to annoy her.
It turned out Grandma had only said he was her cousin. By thorough querying, she'd found out herself that he was the son of G.ma's late brother's daughter— her distant aunt's child. In other words her cousin, once removed. A fact that actually thrilled her sometimes when she was not annoyed with the boy. It felt nice to have another cousin.
But the ten-year-old boy could be pretty annoying sometimes. He always showed her off to his friends, whenever he got the chance, proud to tell anyone that they shared the same — although thin — blood.
He'd come all the way from their house, which was far, to wake her up from her midday nap to go with him to her own near neighbour's house. The woman had given birth to twins overnight and had just arrived home from the local hospital.
Eniiyi hadn't wanted to get up from the bed, until he'd mentioned she'd probably get to carry the babies. There had been power outage for the whole of yesterday and the poor girl had had to go fetch water at the borehole when their water supply finished. Not that she'd fetched for long, after fetching two small buckets she'd faked a fainting spell and that's had put an end to fetching water for her. All the water drums had been filled to the young girl's delight when she woke up this morning.
'I'm hungry,' she suddenly said. That wasn't meant to come out but she'd unconsciously voiced her thoughts.
'Oh, stop, jàre, didn't you finish a whole plate of àmàlà* yesterday night?'
'Yeah, right. That was because I fainted and then I needed my strength back.' And then I couldn't sleep half of the night because of a full tummy, she added but didn't say that out. Lastborn had been with her when she'd pulled the fainting act, so maybe he must have followed her home, too, because she couldn't remember seeing him later after.
'Ah, finally, we're almost there!' Lastborn threw up his hands. 'With the rate at which we were walking, I'd accepted the fact that the ìjàpá would reach there before us.'
Eniiyi rolled her eyes at his comment then frowned. 'Who . . . what is ìjàpá?'
'Ìjàpá,' he corrected. 'It's kpí, not p.'
'What is it? A slow being?' she hazarded a guess.
'Close. Ìjàpá means tortoise. Have you seen one before?'
Eniiyi stuck her chin out. 'Of course, I have, at the zoo.'
'Wow! I've never been to a zoo before. Did your parents take you there? There's no zoo in the village and Father won't let me leave the village for anything.' He sighed. 'I guess I'd have to wait till I get to senior school.'
'School field trip,' she replied, immediately, appalled he'd assume it was her parents. But then it was the normal thing to assume. Eniiyi snorted. Her parents didn't fit into the personality of taking a child to the zoo. She could count on one hand and still have fingers left the number of times the three of them had gone out together on an outing that wasn't company or estate party.
Lastborn was the, well, lastborn of two children, his elder sister by seven years having gone to university in Lagos, on scholarship . He lived alone with his father — his mother passed away when he was still a toddler. Eniiyi had only met the man once, when she went over to his house and he wasn't a nice person, in the least, he enjoyed cuffing the young boy or beating him up. That disgusted her to no end. He was just a useless, good for nothing lumpheaded alcoholic, who needed a good beating from his mate to know he was nothing but an idiot.
When Eniiyi had had enough of it, the outspoken girl told him exactly what she thought of him and threatened to call her parents when he made to hit her and she'd felt proud of herself. The euphoria hadn't lasted though, he'd thrown the impudent girl out on her ears, but not before she'd spat in his face.
'Eniiyi?' Lastborn waved a hand in her face which she reflexively swat away.
She pulled down her headphones. 'What?'
'We're here.'
* A thick paste made from yam skin, eaten chiefly in Yoruba cuisine.
I've got oil and beans. I've got oil and beans. I am not scared, no, not at all I'm not scared of having twins I've got oil and beans.Eniiyi scowled at the women's loud singing. She looked around for the mother of the twins, all she could see was the women and children. Some sat around the lounge room, singing. She could hear the noise some were making from the kitchen and from the aroma, they were cooking. She could see her grandmother among the women seated and just when she was going to look away, the woman caught her gaze.'Eniiyi, wáńbí,' she called over.Eniiyi
07:56 pm, September 6,Kogi State.The first most interesting thing since she'd arrived at the damn village happened to her today. She had been feeling bored, Taiwo had gone to visit a friend and it was too late for Lastborn to still be at their place and she'd slyly avoided the village children, not interested in talking to anyone. She'd been taking bored pictures with her digital camera but even with the camera's flash and her battery-powered torch , the pictures still came out dark. There had been power outage since afternoon and Taiwo was not around to turn on the generator, much to her grandmother's disgruntlement. Also, there was nothing breathtaking worthy of being photographed, especially in this gloomy darkness.So there she was, seated on a bench on the porch, armed against mosquitoes in a long sleeved T-shirt, long denim trousers, socks, and, of course, mosqu
'Why did you arrive so late? Where's your car? Did you know I was here before? What of Aunt Ekwy? And your children?' she bombarded him with questions.Uncle Felix took his time munching on a maize and swallowing. Then he said, 'I arrived late because I left Lagos a little late, my car is at home, I was bringing it but then Lagos traffic saw to it that I didn't, so I returned it back home and made for the park and the bus I was in broke down on the way here, which contributed to my leaving Lagos late. Yes I knew you were here, my brother informed me last week Sunday when they arrived at Japan. My wife and children are fine and they send their regards.'Eniiyi smiled, not sure what else to say. 'Are you sure you don't want to take me back with you, Uncle? I'll be good, I promise. Mommy said your house is full but you can always find space to accommodate me, right? And about food, I don't eat much.'Femi laughed at the gir
09:12 pm, September 7Tokyo, Japan.Eartha stabbed at the dish with the fork again, absently.Her husband glanced up at her from his own meal. He'd noticed something had been bothering her since they arrived from work an hour ago but he hadn't asked, hoping she'd tell him at her own time, but he was beginning to get worried. She wasn't forthcoming with anything, so it was left up to him to ask her.'Heart.' He dropped his fork and placed his hand over her outstretched one on the table. 'Is everything okay? Is something bothering you?'Eartha looked up at him, pursing her lips. Took you long enough to realize, she said silently.'Do I look like I'm okay?' she asked, instead.Mide paused for a second, he hadn't been expecting that kind of answer. Was she in a dour mood today? He tried to r
01:32 pm, September 7Kogi State, Nigeria.Eniiyi's shoulders slumped in dejection as she looked away from the computer screen she'd been staring at for fifty seconds. It wasn't as if they didn't deserve her anger towards them, she just couldn't help wishing it hadn't ended like that. She'd have loved to hear reassuring words from them after she was done venting. She sighed. Now she'd never get to see them again till October. What with Uncle Felix leaving in two days. Ths made her miss her poor tablet more.'It's alright, don't cry now.' Her uncle pat her back.She turned to glare fiercely at him. 'What makes you think I'd cry?' She stood up, slightly cheesed up.'I'm going out.''Suit yourself, niece.' Uncle Felix was blasé about it but he looked amused.The sun had managed to get hott
Which was why, two days later, escorting her uncle to the park, she still had the woman on her mind. Despite herself, she'd felt the urge to go back to that place and help the woman, but she hadn't had the chance to leave the house since that day.She'd just have to forget she ever saw anything.'Eniiyi, are you okay? You're unusually quiet.' Lastborn observed.She looked at him. 'I'm okay.''Are you sure, maybe you should go back home?' Uncle Felix looked worried.'Uncle Felix, I'm okay.' She frowned up at him.Uncle Felix chuckled. 'Oh, I see. You're going to miss me.'Eniiyi looked blasé. 'It's not too late to take me along.' She'd spent all morning begging him to take her with him but he'd refused.Then she'd gotten mad at him and avoided speaking to him. The only reason she was escorting him now was becaus
03:20 pm, September 10Kogi State, Nigeria.It was the naming ceremony of the Mádégún twins. They'd just been named Oluwatade, Hairum and Oluwajoba, Haysam each as they were Muslims. It was a joyful ceremony as everybody wanted to bless the twins with gifts. Even non-indigenous guests from the cities had come to grace the occasion, mostly the new parents' family and friends. Gifts of different shapes and colour just kept piling up under the gift canopy to the delight of the glowing parents.The village women now busied themselves circulating food around the numerous tents in front of the house. There were varieties of local dishes; Mọ́ín-mọ́ín, ẹ̀kọ, àmàlà, jollof and fried rice, iyán, ẹ̀fọ́, and many more to feast the eyes and mouth on.Eniiyi was feeling extraordinarily happy today. Everythi
A day after . . .02:16 pm, September 11Kogi State.Eniiyi limped down the porch steps down the street towards the neighbour's house, headphones turned up to a high volume just to block out her surroundings. She was angry, frustrated and sore from yesterday.Grandma had come home later in the day, dragged her out of her hiding place by her ears with a long, slender, flexible cane in her hand meaning to flog the life out of her, but she'd been saved by the person she had least expected to: Taiwo. Why, she'd tried her very best to be extremely rude to him, but he'd obviously not taken her behavior to heart. He'd spent about twenty minutes giving Gma reasons she shouldn't punish the nine year old. Which was all good for the girl. She'd been planning to pull fainting act anyway but had doubted it'd work on her grandmother.It ha