AWAKENED

I gazed up to our old wooden clock. It was half past 10pm already and my mother was yet to return. When my mother arrives late, she always struggle with customers especially drunk ones who wouldn't want to come home. When thier resistance becomes unbearable, she locks her bar after taking all her stuffs in and deserts the drunk customers addressing thier unseen friends.  Shortly later, my mother arrived home. I could hear her fetching water from our drum into the bathing bucket. Each cup of water she fetched was immediately followed by another. She was tired. 

My mother came in with a wrapper across her chest and hurried to the bed like a child into the arms of his mother. She laid on her back and while facing the ceiling she said "Fetty why aren't you asleep. "? "I was waiting for you Ma. " I quickly replied. She knew I wanted to talk. When I wanted to collect money from her for my final secondary school examination, I waited for her that night to return from her bar. When I wanted to request for new underwears,  I waited for her all night. Tonight, she knows I was waiting for a reason. "We will talk in the morning Fetty" she declared while covering Tami up with her wrapper. She slowly turned away and began to sleep. "Father has return" I said. She got up and sat down. 

She looked at me and her gaze betrayed her. She knew our father had returned. She didn't tell me. I kept wondering whether she wouldn't have told me if I hadn't asked.  "When your father left for Libya, " She began. "I begged him to stay. Not for me but for you and your siblings but he insisted. Of what use was he after all? " she was demanding an answer and I lowered my head. She continued "Your father barely contributes to this household. He is obsessed with his quest to Libya that he hasn't had any job for the last 6 years and 4 years ago he left. We didn't hear a word from him since then. " look at me Fetty "she said. Her voice was trembling. "While that Man was away, who paid the rent? " You mother" I replied. "Who paid for all your schooling? "It's all you Ma" I answered. "From the groceries to other bills. I handled them all. You think I don't know or hear what people in the neighborhood say?. People say am no better than the womem from Greenland brothel. Some say I rob my drunk customers. But who cares Fetty. As long as the god damned bills are  paid. " she was now yelling and I was sure the neighbors were eavesdropping especially Mama Funke. "And now your father is back from Libya. Deported and more filthier than he left. He came back with nothing Fetty. Four years gone. He doesn't even know what Tami looks like. Am so ashamed of him. " she was sobbing already and I couldn't lift my head.  "Get some sleep now" she said and slept.  I went to bed in tears.  

The next morning, I was done with my morning chores just as I envisioned. Normally, I will sleep for two hours or less then take over my mothers bar till late evening. I hated the bar. It stinks. The bar gave us a shelter, fed and clothed us yet I hated it. It stinks and there were same people all the time. My mothers bar is located in the tight corner between a barbing saloon and a book store in my neighborhood. We live at London street. I think it is the filthiest place on earth and yet it is named after such a developed city. Such an irony.  We sell varieties of alcohol ranging from guiness, Star, Hero, unrefined Nigerian spirit known as ogogoro and of course whisky. Our customers consist of middle aged men, sometimes women who were invited by men and a few elderly men. Sometimes, You can find young men and thier girlfriends too. In the bar, we own plastic chairs and tables which we use to serve our customers. The bar is usually crowded at night and some men spend almost the entire day in the bar. I wonder whether they don't work or have homes. My mother has been managing the bar for a decade now. She began managing the bar when I was 6years old and she was pregnant with Osifa then.  Our father was a guard at the magistrate court in town back then. If my mother hadn't had the bar, we would have starved to death. My father was later retrenched and his ego wouldn't let him take on menial jobs like brick laying or truck pushing among others. He was practically lazy and had been working his way to Libya since then. 

I locked our door and hid the key under the foot mat. I stormed to the streets after having a bath. On my way to Layo's house I came across a crowd. In thier midst were two elderly women fighting. No one would dare separate them rather they'll be cheered. Fights in London area are usually entertaining. I was leaving the fight scene when a strange figure pulled my hair. It was Badmus. "Is that not Mama Funke your neighbor?  Won't you intervene?  " he said. "Badmus I don't have time for this. " I said while trying to leave. "The other woman called Mama Funke an irresponsible mother. She rained curses at her and said she couldn't tame her children. She called Mama Funke's children prostitutes." He added. " People wouldn't just mind thier business on this streets. " I retorted and left. 

Layo was about leaving when I got to his house. "You are going to the store"?  I asked. "Oh yes " he replied while throwing his side bag towards me. I caught the bag, he locked the door and we left. Layo and I grew up together. He is a friend I'll love to keep forever. We ran the streets together, chased moving vehicles, played in the rain and made castles out of mud. He forms an integral part of my childhood. We've been school mates too. Layo is the only child of his parents. His father died while he was four. His mother sells vegetables by the Main market junction. Unlike other teenagers and youths in my neighborhood who loiter without intent and engage in devious acts, Layo is different. He's a pure hustler. He repairs phones in his tiny store at the outskirt of london.  He was able to rent the store after so many months of saving and years of apprenticeship at the phone mall in town. 

We arrived Layo's store few minutes to 11am. He quickly opened the tiny metal container which is his store, brought out his two wooden tables and began sorting his tools. I stood watching keenly.  I visit Layo regularly so I was quite acquainted with some of his tools. He grabbed the short broom by the corner and cleaned the place in few minutes. he immediately dusted the long bench and invited me to sit with a gaze. I sat and he opened his tool box and began loosening a small Nokia phone. "It fell into water since few days back and they brought it to me this morning. I pray the damage is not grave. " he said while cleaning the phone engine with a towel.  "My father is back Layo" I managed to say. "I heard so. Have you seen him"?  He replied. "Who told you? " I asked. "Its a small place Fetty. Everyone knows someone that knows someone. " "Have You guys met? " he inquired. "No. " I quickly replied. "You are scared Fetty. " he said. I am scared and he knew it. I am scared my father's return will expose the skeletons in my cupboard. The moment I fear the most was fast approaching and I knew it. I must protect my secret at all cost. The secret only our trio knew of. The secret I, Layo and my father share.