PRACTICE - EIGHT

In the morning, after drifting for about two hours and taking pictures, we finally got ready to step out. We went to my eldest brother’s office for a courtesy visit. Face value, he liked what he saw. The intrinsic beauty was even more breathtaking, I assured him.

Afterwards we went to my parents’. I told her in advance not to feel any pressure. Mom was enamored by Laide. All of a sudden, I could talk and be listened to. It felt like I’d sold out… had compromised…. Because it involved me now I wanted to shift grounds… bend the rules. I wanted to say to Mom: ‘Let’s try and feel comfortable around any language that helps us communicate’. The thing was, Mom was always on Dad’s neck every time he admonished us. Because Dad often spoke as if he was addressing students in a classroom… metallic English… high sounding words. Mom always demanded that he spoke to us in our own language… that he wasn’t talking to strangers but his own family. She found it unbearable for couples to speak in a public language; meant they couldn’t keep any secrets once they were out of their bedroom. She had a point; one I’d shared with her for many years. But now it didn’t matter… to me, and, as things appeared, to her too. Laide was gifted in languages: her native Bini, and then Yoruba and Ibibio… but not a word in Ibo. Mom had to get a hang of this English thing in filial discourses. It used to be a luxury Dad could afford, now it was a necessity we needed.

Just the way Laide stole my heart, she unnerved my parents. I now felt a little relaxed about the imminent visit to Grandpa.

                Before we set out for my parents’ I’d told her to be herself. I didn’t want to have to advise… when it came to cooking… whether she should join Mom in the kitchen or not; when it came to dining, whether she should conceal her voracious appetite or not… Putting the plates away after meals was in order, though.

                She and I stayed with Dad in the living room while Mom made breakfast and set the table. As we ate amidst light talks, Laide winked at me from across the table. In the wink of an eye she had devoured everything on her plate – bread, eggs, sausages, everything… drank up her tea. She made a face… There was no opportunity for her to show my folks just how dangerous she could be in the dining. After the meal she cleared the table. That was my girl!

                She helped out with lunch.

                In the late afternoon my kid sister returned from school. I was pleased to introduce them. I told my sister ‘take care of my girl. She’s older, but you have to take care of her for me… every chance you get. Make our home comfortable for her… so she’d want to stay. Because if she stays, I’m a happy man. And when I’m a happy man, you know you’re good.’

She smiled.

First time I’d confide in her like this. She’d only come of age. SS3 first term; university in a year… that’s ripe!

                In the evening my eldest brother and Karen, my sister, came by with their families. It was one helluva large house. Yet sister number one and brothers number two and three weren’t home. We had a lively evening before the sub families departed. And then arrangements were made for retirement. After night prayers Laide retired to my kid sister’s room, and I to mine. I let my folks know… we were going to Grandpa tomorrow.