1954
The sky was starting to close her eyes lids when Aunty Ifeoma came. She came when the wave of sadness opened its arms and enveloped the heat on my porch. I was buried in my sweat when I heard her knock on the door. Aunty Ifeoma never waited for one to open a door before she entered. I had asked her once why she failed to observe the simplest form of courtesy
“Only a thief waits by the door after he knocks” she chuckled.
Aunty Ifeoma’s purse dropped from her hands when she saw me. She wasn’t immediately stung by my ardour. I guess she knew I hadn’t taken my bath in almost a week. My husband must have told her. There were things I wanted to tell her and there were things I could never say. She opened the curtains wide and the sun finally had an opportunity to steal a peek at me. She scurried round the house. Picking things that were out of place and uttering a thousand words in a single sentence. I was happy to see her. I knew that my fingers were too numb to dial or else I would have called her. Or would I? I was so comfortable fuelling my depression with isolation that I forgot that I wasn’t born on an island. Aunty Ifeoma footsteps jerked me out of thoughts till I followed her every trail. “Your husband called me. Obim, he is worried. You are not the first woman to lose a pregnancy… God gives God takes….God will send you another set of twins….. You can keep the baby things in your cousin house Akuekue… She is a good woman… You know these things will make you sad… I’ll be here till you get better.. Don’t worry soon, you will be pregnant again. In every situation just thank the lord. Odinma. .. “I couldn’t see her face as she spoke. I couldn’t tell if there was a smile on her face of if there wasn’t. Aunty Ifeoma was always positive. She always managed to rub it off me while I was growing. But all the positivity in my vessels drained along with my Festus. When she was done cleaning the mess she didn’t make, she brought me new clothes and held my hand as I went upstairs. She observed my dingy legs as I limped from foot to foot. “You are loosing flesh” she observed ” A new baby will not grow in this lean tummy “I smiled. I’m sure she meant well but I had built a hut for sadness in my heart and I wanted it to stay. Aunty Ifeoma waited till she heard me turn on the showers. When the sound of water meshing with the dirt in my skin convinced her doubt, she went to the kitchen and prepared dinner.
1941
“So that stupid man sent you home because I don’t have one thousand okwai?”. Aunty Ifeoma said. Her whispers hit the roof. The frown on my face was no where as distasteful as the anger in her voice. “Well”. She continued as she folded her wrappers. “I always knew you didn’t need that school. You are too intelligent for that pako pako school sef”. I cackled. Aunty always knew how to brighten up my face. She scurried round the house. Packing her snails into raffia basket as she spoke “You will come with me to the market. By his grace, I will make enough sales this weekend. And you will go back to school next week”. There was so many I wanted to say and so few I wanted not to. If only she knew how much I would rather sit with her in the market place than stay in any classroom. How we would banter in tales we had already heard and answer the questions we each knew the answers too. My earliest memories of childhood were her face. I never asked her about her husband and children and she never bothered to tell me about my parents. I guess we were both scared of the answers and so we never approached the question. Aunty sent me to school from her snail business While other women were grooming their male sons and preparing their daughters for marriage,.
“They say that women will rule our towns and cities. . I send my Oluchi to school so that she will join hands and build our new world” Aunty would always boast whenever people questioned her decision about my education. She wasn’t too religious. She beloved in God but we kept holy most sabbath days by eating boiled corn and ube while counting her profits. And on days when the rains would come and the sound of Aku wings pierced the atmosphere, we used it as our shield for laziness. Aunty made me laugh. If she had an opportunity to star in a TV show, she would be a funny popular character. We were not rich but we were never hungry. The one room apartment we shared was sparsely furnished but we painted the walls with our laughter and love. It was beautiful. I could never do anything on my own. And from a early age, I guess she understood. I never had to ask and she never asked “Why”. Maybe that was why I never had many friends growing up. When I married my husband Icheku, he told me that he didn’t “accidentally” bump into me in the market place. It was Aunty Ifeoma who having noticed a city man without a wife, told him about her own beautiful niece, whose chi had spent seven market days in molding her skin. When I confronted her about it. She laughed “you were already a ripe apple. I only plucked you from the tree because you are scared of falling. Chukwu Will not come down from his throne to give you a husband. He sends angels in form of humans. Angels like me”.
” Aunttyyyyyyyy”I teased.
1954.
I don’t know how many hours I spent in the shower. Seconds, days, centuries?. Aunty Ifeoma’s voice cupped the whole apartment as the waters did nothing to heal my pain. When I came out of the bathroom, I felt like a stranger to my own house. My hands tickled the wardrobe. “Why wear clothes when I already feel naked” I wondered. I remembered how life almost snuffed out of me when I had the miscarriage. “Why didn’t I die?”. I froze as Aunty stares met me when I turned back. She must have been standing there for a long time. She dropped the bag she was holding and held my hands. I buried my face on her shoulders as my tears stained her lace. “Do not worry Nkem”. Aunty voice soothed me. More than my husband’s ever could. “A time will come when you will remember this day and you will laugh. You shall complain of too many children and they shall feast in your name. Life is pain. And we do not live without living. We do not worry about the things that we cannot control. . You will have more babies.” she held my tummy. “Trust your chi, Trust your husband”. “Do not cry any more. You will ruin your face. You are beautiful.” I smiled. I bwoed my head. “If aunty thought I was beautiful” I thought “Then I guess I am”. “Thank you Aunty.. I..” my voice choked on my tears before I could complete my confession. “I know. Nkem. Don’t worry I know”. She rubbed my back as I sobbed into the night. And finally, the sky slept.
Written by Festus Obehi Destiny.
Tell tale of the Niece.
Hugs and eyes 👀
