Twain Became One

CHAPTER 4: Home

"Home. Finally, home. Sometimes it's hard to be a rolling
Stone but wherever it may go, it always seems to find
Its way back home." _ Alex Roe

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IBADAN, NIGERIA. JUNE 2014

PAMELA

"Check mate old man!" I laughed while jubilating over my small victory. Then froze. Oh My God!! When my brain caught up to me. I just called my father, old man to his face.

Oh wow, America gave you balls. Welcome back to Nigeria where I will most likely receive a slap or admonition regardless of my age.

My father, Mr. Williams Ore; A strict, hardworking man who hardly smiles. He was laughing loudly now surprisingly.
"Ah, my baby is back o. It took you fifteen years to beat me in a game of chess. So I'm going to let it slide only today, now go and help your mum out." he said, with his signature frown back in place.

Dem no dey warn Monkey twice. Bye!

"Thank you, sir" I said and ran off to the kitchen breathing heavily. This my mouth will put me in trouble one day.
The smell of my favorite food greeted me dodo (fried plantain) and peppered meat.
"Iya temi, Iya temi! olowo sibi" (Yoruba praise for someone who can cook) I hailed her. "Mami, I missed you o" I added, smiling widely.

She first rolled her eyes at me then acted like my praise had no effect on her, "So now you missed me right? But when you were over there you hardly called." A frown marring her beautiful features.

"Ah! Mami I called you, but you know that I can't call to listen to you explain what happened in church, who just returned and how costly things are in the market na. 'E ma binu (Don't be angry)." I pacified. Anything for a larger share of this food.

"Okay o, see how skinny you are. You look like a refugee" she hummed. Her back turned towards me as she faced the stove, frying and flipping the dodo with the dexterity and expertise only attained by doing this continuously for years.

"Haba, Mummy this is a model's shape fah" I motioned towards my body while turning slowly like I was auditioning for a fashion show.

Omomi Oni shey model (My child won't be a model) o, it's doctor she would be." I just shook my head instead of giving her the sarcastic response building in my head.

"Yes ma, I'm a doctor already na" and rolled my eyes quickly so she wouldn't see. The real drama queen! I hailed her in my head. Sometimes I think God used the same clay to make all of Nigerian mothers they had a flare for drama and exaggeration.

I got home two nights ago. I had finished medical school and was finally back home. I was waiting for my NYSC call up letter. It turns out I still have to serve and I wanted to do that in the North because I was tired of the West where I have lived most of my life. I would particularly like to have my place of primary assignment(PPA) at AKTH (Aminu Kano Teaching Hospital) Kano.

I heard from Farida, my secondary school friend at Queens college that it was the best hospital in the North but my parents wanted me to stay here after being away from home for so long.

"Sisi o Sisi" my baby brother; Deji said in a sing song voice, his bass voice showing.
Deji was my complete opposite; A bit chubby. He just finished secondary school, never serious and always mixed up in the wrong crowd. He was closer to my elder sister, Shayo who died 3 years back. He became worse since then. Mum worries so much about him.

"Deji, how far na? My gee" I said while stuffing my mouth with food, he stole one of the peppered pomo (cow skin) and the look I gave him was one that could kill. I dont play with my food ever!