CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Pains of Motherhood
I was happy at the end when my master finally allowed me to go home. I would be going back home after many years. I had grown big and tall and was my father’s son in every way. Six years was indeed a long time to be away from one’s home, especially for a first son. Many things had changed. I thought about my siblings and what I could buy to make them happy. My siblings were a permanent fixture in my heart and I constantly prayed to see them when my service was through. They must have grown. I thought about little Mma, the ‘flower’ and only girl of our family, who was seven years when I left home. I wondered what she would look like. Many things must have happened in my absence including the marriage of the beautiful and holy Ada, the first girl I had admired.
I got home that evening after a long hour drive. I did not sleep through the journey and was quiet for most of the time. I kept wondering what the dream I had could mean. I thought only of getting home. One’s mind does not rest if he has not gotten to his destination. As I came into the village, the first thing I noticed was that the village had not changed much.
The house was cold except for a woman’s barely audible voice singing from the back. It was Mma, I guessed. The smoldering smoke was snaking its way with the direction of the wind. I was surprised and little fearful. Where could Mother have gone to, I wondered and where had Obi and Uzor gone? The day had far gone for them to remain in the farm and water level would be too high and discolored for fishing and swimming.
I bravely walked in through the backdoor and saw Mma, my younger sister, peeling yam and singing. It was the voice I heard earlier. She was the voice I heard singing as I was walking in. She had grown so big and beautiful. She was almost a woman now. Mma, the little tiny girl of yesterday had really grown to a young beautiful woman. How time flies! At least I still kept a scratch of memory of the day she cried and slobbered Mother under the heat of the sun. She was still the flower which had not been cut, an untouched female human, my sister. I dearly loved her.
When she saw me she ran fast towards me, shouted my name and jumped at me excitedly to hug me as though she wanted to eat me. We smiled at each other like long lost friends who have at last found each other again. She had longed to see me. Here I was; the nnaa who left home so long ago standing before her.
‘Where is mama?’ I asked.
‘She has been asking after you all the time for the last four months or more. She must have noticed you are back. She is lying sick in her own room.’
She ran back to the kitchen, wiped her hands with a dirty rag on the floor and joined me again.
‘For how long?’ I asked her as we walked slowly to mother’s room.
‘For close to…’ She thought for a while, then continued, ‘I don’t really know how long, but before the first rain of the year she was already sick.’
‘But why have I not been told ever since? Why?’
‘She refused us sending message across. She said she would survive and that she wouldn’t want to distract you in anyway. It was on the insistence of Uzor who got to Ndiama and send the message that brought you home. We have spent everything we have on drugs, but she could not be well. She told us to stop worrying ourselves that she is happy that way.’
I thought of several things and suddenly, Mother’s room seemed kilometers away. I rubbed my head and felt my hair as though to be sure I still had a head. Without going in, I had a feeling that her chances of survival lay with God and my nerves became weak.
‘Where is Uzor and Obi?’ I asked.
‘They went to Onyia bamboo plantation to gather bamboo for the making of our thatched house. They would soon be back.’ She answered.
My mind went to the roof and some parts of the mud house which needed to be repaired. Those would have been the duty of Mother if she was strong and my duty if I were at home. Slowly, I opened the wooden door and tapped Mother softly on the shoulder, as she lay breathing slowly. The dream flashed back again in my mind. She had lost a lot of flesh. Fear and pain seized my body at the sight of her. I sat down beside her on her mud bed and touched her. Her temperature was high. She made an effort to look at me even though she was literally glued to her mat. I gave her my hands and called.
‘Nne. Nne . How are you?’
She did not answer but squeezed my hands as tears ran down her eyes. We gazed at each other in silence. It looked like a perfect way to say farewell. It made me so sad. I wish it were a situation I could turn around. I would readily prefer the hugging and smiles we used to share to this. Mma started crying too and I became confused. The family had hoped for a reunion with Mother now that we had grown, rather than this fear suffused moments to which we all whined.