A MOM IN SIX MONTHS [ONGOING]

1◇ARRIVALS

'Woah, that is a lot. I'm so glad everything is working out. Thank you so much, Audrey.' She smiles and tells me not to mention it.
'Sooo... Any handsome man yet?' She suddenly asks. 'Audrey!' I say with an eye roll, 'I only just got here, yunno?'

   We talk about other things for a while- Audrey's new girlfriend, new anime recommendations, new fashion ideas and what not; until she declares that she has to go, to start preparing for her upcoming appointments. It does feel good to just sit back and take a break from it all, I guess...

Just relax and enjoy...

°amala and ewedu - A Nigerian traditional meal, usually eaten in Yorubaland.

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Abuja, Jabi.
Friday, 5:56 pm.

I check my bag again, just to be sure, I'm not leaving anything that needs to be packed out. Knowing Abeke, every single woman in her age group in the same cooperative society as she is, or her neighbours already know of my homecoming, and I'm pretty sure they'll be there tomorrow to get their own share. I put in all the matching °adire, as well the °iborun that I had gotten earlier for the women, and since I didn't know how many of them would be there, I simply got twenty, the limit of people in the multiple cooperative societies Abeke is part of. Throw in some tubes of toothpaste and small perfumes for the neighbours, and I feel like I'm good to go. Time to head to bed then, gotta be up early to catch the pre-ordered Uber to Ogun state.

I lay on my bed for a while, letting my mind go off in different directions, until I finally give in to sleep.

Relax and enjoy, Funmi...

°adire- Traditional name for African tie-dye material.
°iborun- A long piece of scarf[usually worn by Muslim women in some parts of Nigeria]

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Abeokuta, Ogun state.
Saturday, 7:00 pm.

My daughter is here! Oluwatofunmi! Arike mi! Abeke rushes out of her house, wearing an adire top and a matching wrapper, her hair neatly braided in delicate cornrows, her arms flying by her side, a warm, welcoming smile on her face. I run into her embrace, ignoring the mad flutter of hen feathers and goat bleats, the way every woman and child from all the neighbouring houses fly out, breasts dangling, some with their hair flying around like that of a mad woman, some with babies to their chest, and some being pulled by their toddlers-all to look at the °ara ilu oyinbo.

'Look at you, Arike! Are the white people not feeding you well? See how skinny you've become.' She touches my face and my arms, then shakes her head in disapproval. Typical Abeke.

     The Uber driver clears his throat behind us, as if to make his presence remembered, I turn to him, catching a bit of a smile on his face, just before he turns to bring down the multiple luggages I brought along. Some teenage boys from neighbouring houses come over, cheeky smiles on their faces, to help me take the luggages in, conversing amongst themselves in a thick Yoruba accent even I found hard to comprehend. some of the women also come to join in the embrace, shouts of °'ekabo oo' dominating the whole place. Unlike Abeke, most of the older women didn't smell good,  as they carried around with them the scent of °iru. Abeke seems to notice I'm not all comfortable, and she stylishly breaks the embrace up.

'Thank you all so much, I appreciate your help and time. °Eshey gan ni, mo dupe. The little crowd move towards the house, but only Abeke and I enter, as the rest of them stay back. Once we're inside, Abeke looks back and thanks them again. Out of all the houses here, Abeke's own stands out, I hadn't thought of that when I'd sent a contractor money to help her re-structure the old house. It used to be just a simple apartment, but now it's a magnificent building. I had contacted a Nigerian friend of mine, Tinuade, who is also a major in interior decor, and she had seen to the internal lay-out; and honesty? She did a good job. 

   From the living room, I can already guess what Abeke has prepared for me.
'Arike, °pele' She looks around and calls one of her maids 'wunmi! Wa o!' A slender looking lady emerges from the direction of the kitchen, sweat glistening I her face, but not rolling around.
'Ma?' Her eyes meet mine and she immediately goes on her knees, a form of greeting. 'Anty Funmi, ekabo ma.' Her Yoruba accent is different from mine, just like that of the boys from earlier on. Feeling a bit embarrassed since she looks like she's within my age group, I politely ask her to get up and smile at her.

'Bring her food. And make sure you don't get any of that sweat on your face in that food o.' Abeke says sternly, but with warmth.

   Wunmi hurries back into the kitchen, and soon enough, I hear the clangs of plates and trays, and Wunmi comes back with covered dishes. She slowly uncovers it, as if wanting me to anticipate the good part of it, and when she does uncover it, I can't help the huge grin that makes its way to my face.

'I made your favourite, °oko mi.' Abeke smiles at me. Wunmi sets up the table, I wash my hands in the small green basin filled with water, and I immediately dig in, under Abeke's watchful eyes.

Finally home....

°ara ilu oyinbo- One who resides in the states.
°ekabo- Welcome.
°iru- Locust beans.
°pele- Sorry, take care.
°wa- Come.
°oko mi- Depending on how it's used, it could mean 'my husband' or 'my dear.'

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Hey guys, I started this chapter, as at Saturday,July 2, 2022. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. This chapter is dedicated to Tola, a Yoruba friend of mine, who helped with the translation of little words and phrases, as well the names.

Let me know of what you think in the comment sections, what do you think of Funmi and Abeke? What country are you reading from?  While you're at it, don't forget to vote, comment and share. It really helps.

     Thank you! 😊