When we got inside, my mom bathed me and dressed me in my night gown.
As she was drying my hair with a towel with me sitting on a small stool between her legs, she asked me a curious question that took me by surprise.
"Kini ti o ba di ọrẹ pẹlu rẹ, kini iwọ yoo ṣe? ( What if you become friends with him, what will you do?)"
Right! I haven't thought of that. What if that happens, what will I do?
" Mama, jẹ ki akoko yẹn de.... (Mummy, let that time comes....)" I trailed off and the gentle massage stopped abruptly. It made me scared, I turned around to face my mom and I painfully regretted turning around to face her. The light from the kerosene latern lit up Her calm face and her batta eyes.... It was burning red.
Was she angry? Did I make her angry?
Her grip on the towel tightened.
I was forced to stutter by the infusing force gotten from the way she, maybe glared at me " I don't know.... When that happens, I will .... "
"Ṣe Kini ( Do what)" it sounded like a question but it wasn't, with the tone of her voice.
It was deep and intimidating. The fire from the latern flickered in fear. I couldn't get the gut to look at her in the eyes, so I looked at anything else apart from my mom.
The wall of the room was built with red clay. At night, orange. Day, red or bloody red.
On the wall, there was two shadows hovering over each other, one is huge while the other is small and shy.
I heard a surrending sigh beside my ears, maybe because I couldn't find any answers to her question.
" Olufẹ mi, Emi kii yoo fi ipa mu ọ lati ṣe ohunkohun ti o ko fẹ. O wa si ọ lati pinnu, mn. Ṣugbọn o kan ranti, ṣaaju ki o to di aṣeyọri o ko le ṣe funrararẹ. (My dear, I won't force you to do whatever you don't want. It is up to you to decide, mn. But just remember, before becoming successful you can't do it on your own.)" after being said my mom continued to Dry my hair and then send me off to bed without giving me any time to think of what to say.
I felt guilty for everything. She was right, it was up to me. But the feeling of her making decisions for me is the probably the best for me. She didn't even wait for me to think of what to say before pursuing me to bed and it greatly made me restless.
I felt her gentle breathe on my forehead as she sleeps peacefully. she looked so cute and fragile while she sleeps.
I couldn't sleep a wick, it was torturous. I just stared at my mom's rising chest as she sleeps. I was tempted to carefully place my head on my comfortable pillow. It was so tempting that I couldn't resist giving in to the temptation.
Right beside my ears, I could hear the drum beating. It was a gentle but furious as if the drummer was furious about something. The tone was like a war and a peaceful regime anthem. Like a powerful hunter alerting the wild beast of his arrival and ifa speaking to the priest about the approval of a good man to be his official.
Wow! My mom is extraordinary!
With the drum beating beside my ear, I soon feel asleep like a log of wood, drowning in the mysterious mystery of the beat.