After spending almost an hour under the soothing cool of the shower I come out to behold Mom seated on my bed. She's on her phone awaiting me, I just know it. I lock my towel up properly right beneath my arms and approach her.
"Mama the mama!" I rub her shoulder gently as I pass by her.
"Ókwá gị!" She says. I step back and away from her a bit may she no for give me mistake backhand for ear... ájó áká ntị! "Adaora, ókwá gị chó ịgbụ nwá m? Nwátákịrị mmụtárá ná áfó m!"
"Mumsie be doing the calms na," She stares at me long and hard. I back myself into the open cupboard and proceed to close it up using the door to shield myself, I can still see her face, she clicks her tongue at me and hisses looking away.
Her phone begins to buzz, then the ringtone comes on, she looks up to me and places her index finger to her lips, "Dáádá," she says. I widen my eyes and turn to the cupboard to dress up quickly, Mom puts it on loud speaker.
"Chinazaekpelem! Ébé ká ụnụ nó? Ọgịgè ụnụ kpọchịrị ákpọchị!" I drop the towel revealing uwendida ọdịdọ m (my spandex briefs) and uweenu egwundụ m (my sports bra). I throw on a long pink top. I pick up my towel and go hang it on the rope in the corridor outside my bedroom.
"Nengi bebe, Asa nwa yorịyorị m, we're coming, she's coming," she turns to me as I return bolting the door shut, "Adaora... ngwa, ngwa, Ada, go and get the gate," I grab my white knee-high skirt and wiggle myself into that too, I shuffle my leg into my black dunlop slippers hastily.
"Daada Ngozi, ke ka imere?" I scream into the phone.
Mom waves her hands at me shoving me away, "C'mon cat out of here, okpo! Nengi don't mind her o? She's coming."
"Ngwa nụ, ngwa, ngwa..." I race out of the room, I couldn't even tie my hair into place, I race down the stairs skipping every two or less stairs intentionally. I rush out of the parlor door into the visitor's parlor bumping into Dad who was on a glass of orange juice, it spills on him.
"Where are you running to Dumebi?" He looks at his orange colored shirt which I have just ruined. I cover my mouth with my palm trying to mellow myself in apologies.
"Daada is at the gate..." I reply. With that, Dad hastens up towards his own room without even a word to me, the glass of juice still in his hands. I continue on my way outside. Into the visitor's parlor I grab the gate key hanging on the wall, I pass the waiting room and out the main door, I'm soon at the gate with quick precision.
Daada Ngozi senses my presence and says, "Be fast nụ," I hear a familiar hiss, I frown, "This Sun is really not having mercy on any daddy fucker," she continues. I smile while shaking my head as I haggle the padlock open. When I'm in alignment with the Mother Universe of whom the Mother Sun is her great bright light then even at her hottest and scorchiest, I don't feel it. One would say it was because I was inside all day long but get to know me well enough and how much I stay out in the Sun then and only then can they understand what I am talking about.
They enter inside, Daada steps aside as Ifunanya enters with two big black sack bags of some shii, I quickly rush to hug my sweet Daada, my darling Aunty who receives my hug warmly, swerving me from side to side.
"Where are you going to do your NYSC?"
"What's NYSC?" I ask, genuinely confused.
She smiles, "Oh, I'm sorry, it was called NYSC in our time, National Youth Service Corps," She smiles with a slight hiss, "That year!" She shakes her head snapping her fingers in the process, "Now you people call it..."
"National Duty..." Ifunanya says finally. She's eyeing me up and down though, I wonder why. Fine Girl wey never see me since beginning of last year, I wonder what she wants from me.
"Exactly Nne, national duty, welcome to the Usoro Anịnne Owụwa, the Motherland Union of Biafra. Yes, so Ada, where are you doing your own national duty?"
"Owere province Ma."
"Ah, that's lovely, across the Niger, across the Ojịị river. It's a good thing, when are you leaving?"
"Next week Ma, on Tuesday," I reply, she squeezes me in a bear hug again.
"Eewuu Nwa m ooooooooo! It's well o? Je ọfụma, ije gị ga abụ ije awele, ma ọjịje, ma nke mbata."
"Iseeeeeeeeeee," I reply.
She releases me, "Now, you two Girls should have fun carrying those sacks of Ọlọmá, Oranges... Chinaza!" She exclaims as she turns towards the house, "Chinazaekpelem!" She calls out to Mom again at the top of her voice.
"Ifunanya good morning o," I greet the girl beside me. I look her over head to toe, dark skinned, strong calves (ukwụ jị), masculine body, a hard looking skin skin and a pretty face, quite taller than me, the perfect African Woman. One problem though, she barely smiled... At least at me. She just "hmm's" at my greeting and jacks up one of the sack of oranges like I'm supposed to do the same as her. Bịá fine Girl, I'm just a Girl o!
"I would rather you stop being lazy and come work with me here, because in this Life which we have come, laziness is not part of our bargain, our deal, our Chị (soul purpose). Laziness is not our Chị, my Chị, my Chị, my Spirit guide is not lazy, yours isn't too, most importantly, anyị bụ ndị Gboo, the ancient ones, Ndị Igbo and we're not known for laziness, ever! Never have, never will, So please..." She says without turning back. As she steps away forward towards the house, her slippers slapping the ground, her backside jiggling around with her, I dust my hands in awe and fold them while still looking at her. They were quite... Ok.
She gets to the doorway, drops it and turns back to look at me, she smirks, I look at her eyes, empty, soulless. She picks it back up heading inside.
"But what the fuck did I do to this Girl now?" I drop my hands and go akimbo, "We actually barely know each other, I mean I know she's adopted but Aunt Ngozi is rich like, Daada is a rich ass single lady, the ideal Woman every Woman wants to be, Patriarchy's nightmare, a multimillionaire by her own right, her own hardwork. C'mon, what are we not talking about, this babe is living large under Aunty, so why the hassle? I mean Aunt Ngozi literally likes to take cabs, like she has her own series of private taxi driver, she doesn't like to show off, she just does her own thing, they're well to do... Bịa, what the fuck is even this Girl's palaver?
I mean... Ok, maybe she just doesn't like my face and to that... Well, I can't really do nothing about that, I'm Adaora Dumebi Chisom, I'm bigger than they say I am, I'm bigger than they think I am. This adopted piece of shii can't spoil my mood this morning, bịa, way, I'm heading inside biko.
As I get inside I see Aunty Ngozi balanced on the long sofa like she owned the place. Mom and Dad were seated on the second long sofa, the loveseat, they were listening and laughing to her gist. The television is on and the News channel is on mild but they aren't paying heed to it.
"What were you doing outside?" She turns and asks me. I notice Mom was wearing one of the ụmụ uwentoala (bubu gowns) she had left in my cupboard, wait, no, that's my own, the peach one is hers, this is the blue one... mine. Dad was on his khakis and a crop top... Yes, he's old, he's from the older gen Z generation... No further questions.
"I was just arranging something by the bushes," she stares at me. I turn to Mom who stops smiling as that leaves my teeth and Dad who looks away. I turn back to Daada, she smiles again, this time it is not warm.
"Go and join Ifunanya in the kitchen immediately, we need the food out as soon as possible," Daada says to me.
"Make sure the Akpụ is done well and the Egwụsị is steaming hot ok?" Dad adds. I look at Mom who turns to the television.
"Mom, what of Nwaobi?" She turns at me sternly.
Silence.
My eyes well up at the perceived injustice, Dad says nothing focusing on his phone which was rested on Mom's lap by his side and Aunty Ngozi tries to get a proper look at my face.
"Adaora, today is for you remember right?" She winks and I recall that today is indeed my turn to cook. I couldn't tell whether they didn't want Aunty Ngozi to know that Nwaobi cooks in the house or something else but I could smell something fishy going on, either ways, I make my way to the kitchen.
"Was she just crying?" I hear Aunty Ngozi ask, her voice naturally loud but this one feeling louder.
"No ooooo," Mom replies, "It happens, something just entered her eyes..." I hear Mom say.
"Where's that Boy Ibekachi sef...?"
As I walk into the kitchen, Ifunanya stops peeling the cassava and looks at me, she scoffs, stabbing the knife into the cassava stem she's peeling, "Nnya ịna ebezi akwa na asị ngị bịa sie nnị?" She laughs in mockery, "Nnị ngịnwa ka ga erikwa, ịbụ nọ ozu mbu," she concludes, turning back to the counter.
"Ifunanya I was not crying, something just entered my eyes," she looks at me, chuckles and dust her hands.
"It's in your eyes, even the blind can see. Look, this is not some patriarchy shii believe me and time will come when you'll understand that cooking for the one you love is of utmost relevance no matter the gender of the person doing the cooking be they Lady or Male."
"But I don't love anyone," I reply, she chuckles again.
"You really don't know much now do you?" she says turning back to the cassava she's peeling.
"Girl I'm like more than six years older than you," I reply as I stand across her by the door to the massive kitchen.
"Was a rhetorical question. Anyways, you're actually three years older than me and the mentality of believing that someone who is younger than you can't educate you or give you a wise word or two will make you end up worse than the generation the colonial invaders of our Mother Africa deceived."
"Meaning?" I ask.
She turns and laughs dropping what she's peeling, this time around in her laughter she shows part of her dental structure, "Babe, I'm like Gen Z, the generation that sat down on the bare earth and saw what the elders climbed the tallest Ojịị (Iroko) tree to see, our parents right now, like the folks outside are gen Z, all of them proper, I know what I'm talking about. I mean they and the older generations both saw it at the end of the day but they Gen Z saw it faster than any generation before them ever did and me, I'm like Gen Z, the awakened generation, the Zoomers. Right now I'm talking nonsense to you, it seems like it but when you have sense, you'll know that there's always sense in every nonsense," I stare at her a while.
Obviously she'as just insulted my intelligence, all forms of it, my social, moral, mental, emotional and otherwise... I'm supposed to get angry but today I'm determined to befriend her no matter what so I might as well take a spit to the forehead.
"So how's Life treating you?" I ask in the most friendly way possible.
"Fine."
"School nkọ?"
"Ọdị mma, convocation coming soon, I don't care if you don't come."
"Do you have like a Man, any babe? Boy toy?" She snubs me. Hewwwwu!, this Girl no even rate me sef. It's well, it's a pity. Adaora na you do pass. Dumebi na you go dey do pass yourself, alụ! Ifele megbue gị.
I move to the pot of boiling water on the gas cooker, I see it's sizzling and bubbling aggressively, I turn off the cooker from the switch and she loses it at me.
"Who be this one sef? I send you work? Oge obụna aka ana kpa gị kpam, kpam, kpam," she hisses in annoyance and coming towards me, she shoves me away. She grabs a match box and lights the gas cooker up again, the hot water resumes her bubbling and sizzling.
At this point I just stare at her as she moves up and down around the kitchen and I stand there in the middle looking dejected, a tear is about to drop but I seize it. She looks at me, eyes me up and hisses so loudly a deaf person could hear.
I... I suddenly just couldn't take it anymore, I let the tear train roll, I just had to let it off my chest.
"Like Ifunanya why are you so wicked?" As she turns off the gas cooker, she chuckles loudly, "Ever since I met you all I've tried to be is nice, calls you don't even answer, text message, mba, Snap o, oh who is this worthless and useless ant pestering my Life? Ifunanya what did I do to deserve all these treatment from you? We're family for goodness sake, I'm trying my best!" She turns to me and with the most wicked grin on her face she responds.
"Ezinauno kwá? Tufiakwa!" She snaps her fingers at me, "You and who be family? Dey play! See this jokester o," She laughs at my face, "Achalaugo wan be superstar," she laughs again, "Normally you be idiot because if to say you no be idiot why you no go sabi where your baby pictures dey?"
Ọgini kwa? What's this akpa amụ saying?
"See as them hang your so called baby brother baby pictures and adult own sef for the entire parlor but you, ngị bu so called Ada ezinauno, first daughter and child of the family, nothing, nothing for you, not even a picture of when you're mopping the house and you no fit ask questions, ịbụdụ ewụ nọ? Ịbụ nọ ọnye na enweghị amamịghe, okpo! C'mon comot road joor, you dey call me adopted one but na you wey no sabi yourself mumu pass..." I stand there my legs shaking as I take in all the insults.
"At the age of twenty eight," She continues, "No ambition, no marriage proposal, not that it's needed but at least, may e be say them sef find you. No future plan, no mission, no vision, ọlekwa! You, you go school carry second class upper comot but brain cells gị, e don expire, sorry, you no even get. See, you even sabi ask questions at all? Chị gị amụdị anya biko nụ? Ngị na Chị gị adịkwa na mma? Imadụ ọnye Chị gị bụ? (Do you even know what your soul purpose or mission is?) Mba! No! And you're standing here asking me ridiculous questions, c'mon get out of here, worthless...!" I'm just standing there, speechless, shaking, awestruck...
"Kedụ mkpotu nna anụ ebea?" Aunty Ngozi comes to the kitchen barefooted to confirm what the raucous is about.
"Nne it's nothing, it's just that Adaora just got her cramps and..." Aunty comes over to hug me.
"Bebe m, is that why you're crying? Eewuu Nwa m oooooo, Ada, it's well o? Come let me excort you to your room so you can take your drugs and rearrange yourself... Do you have any drugs to take for, like, cramps?" She asks pulling me into a hug.
"Yes Ma," I turn to Ifunanya who's picking out dirt from melon seeds she had just poured into a stainless tray just as Aunt Ngozi entered. She doesn't look back at us so I just rest my head back on Aunty's soft chest, "Ma don't worry, I'll get it done by myself," I say with the confidence of a liar.
"Are you sure my Love?" She rubs my head gently as she murmurs "glorious beauty."
I nod, "Yes Ma."
"Ịdị kwa ike? Are you sure?" She asks me to my face as I turn to look at her.
I nod, "Daada, adị m ike Nne anyị," She looks up at Ifunanya as she nudges me up the direction of the stairs.
"Ifunanya, hope you have everything covered?" She asks the girl who had just begun working on the blender, the loud unrhythmic sound engulfing the entire house, almost unbearable for us three closest to it in the kitchen.
"Of course Mummy," She replies over the mkpụlụ egwụsị (melon seeds) she's blending. With one hand on the control panel and the other at the top of the all black blender she says, "I have everything under control. C'mon, I know what I'm supposed to be doing na and I'll always continue to do it..."
As I climb the stairs further, their voices and the blender's roar fades away.
I get to my room, drop to my bed and suddenly feel something between me...
"For my Mother's sake, as how nụ? As howww? She actually came today... Now...?" I rise up and bang my fists on the foam, "Nnaa eh, and it's the white bedsheet... Who wan scrub all these ones now...?"