FICTION: Mother and Son

“Shut up and sit down”. Mum barked at me as I made futile efforts to explain. She was obviously angry; a very rare occurrence.
She is light complexioned with rather deep dimples on both cheeks that formed whenever she smiled but on this day there were no dimples, no smiles. Her face was red with anger and her cheeks even redder.
Clearly she was angry, well, so was I too. Matter-of-factly I am supposed to be angrier, for heaven’s sake she went to far this time and I am not going to back down. I will stand up to her and make her see she is wrong.

“Mum, I’m not sitting. What you did was wrong, I’ve never been so embarrassed all my life. You didn’t even allow. ……..” The remaining words got stuck in my windpipe. I didn’t need to complete the sentence before realizing I’d made a mortal error. Mum began to rise slowly, I could literally see the steam rising from her head and face. It was only a matter of seconds before she exploded. I wished I never spoke those words, I wished I could take them back but it was too late.

“I didn’t allow you do what?” She erupted, spittle spewing from her mouth like magma from a volcano of a thousand degrees. “So I now embarrass you? Suddenly you have become a man, not so? You now challenge me, you talk back at me now. Oh I see, you want to beat me Eh! Oya come and start beating me; Anthony Joshua, heavy weight come and beat me”.

Before I knew it she took of her headgear and tied it around her waist, the next moment she was right in front of me; just inches away. Then she start bouncing, hands on her waist and jerking forward. “I said come and beat me. I’m waiting oh, kiliwee you must beat me. Start punching me. Since you’re now a man, you’ve grown taller than me so you can challenge me.”

I just wanted the ground to open and swallow me. What she did next broke me in thousand pieces. She grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and shook me with such vigor that shocked even her. Suddenly her tone changed, her voice began to shake. Mum broke down and started crying. “It‘s not your fault, you’re challenging me. Because your father is no more, you feel you’ve grown, you’re now the man of the house. I don’t blame you, it’s death I blame; death that snatched my husband from me”. Her grip began to loosen.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I sank into the nearby couch and started sobbing. I hate it whenever she reminded me of my late dad: he had died when I was about ten in a road accident on his way back from work. Mum was devastated, she was in such bad shape that no one thought should survive up to one year. But she held on. According to her, I was her only motivation; the only reason she had to hold on to life. And for more than 10 years  since then, she has single-handedly trained me.

I so hate to see her sad, but I could only watch as she wiped her eyes and stormed away. Slowly I got to my feet and dragged myself into my room.
By the way here was what happened that caused the brawl:
She had come home on that particular day a little earlier than expected. As she walked into the sitting room, she was so shocked; like she had had a heart attack, when she saw a girl in the house with me. The next 30 seconds that followed, she used to size her up with her eyes before going into the kitchen after she hummed a response to our salutations. I don’t even get to introduce my friend.

Shortly after she came back and called me. “I need you in the  kitchen, come and fix the blender”.
“But mum the blender is good, I just used it this morning”.
“So I’m now a liar is that what you’re saying?”
I sighed and got up to follow her into the kitchen. I had to excuse my friend. But mum had other plans.
“My daughter”. She began. “He’s going to be really busy helping me in the kitchen, so I suggest you leave now”.

I couldn’t believe my ears. I looked at mum, she looked back at me and I got the message;. Most times when there’s a stranger or we are in public, we could communicate privately with just looks and facial expressions. I was angry then but I didn’t want to create a scene before a visitor. My friend read the writing on the wall and knew she’d overstayed. She was already on her feet and making her way to the door so I followed after her to see her off and apologize.

“Don’t be long oh”. Mum called out as we approached the door. “Remember the blender”.
That was it. After I had seen her off and apologizing for the hundredth time, I stormed back in to confront mum. I made food for the day while she was away so I was sure the blender was in perfect shape. Besides she wasn’t planning on cooking anything. So what was this all about?
“Mum that was uncalled for”. I said as soon as I entered the house.

That was how the fight begun. As a typical Nigerian mum, she didn’t like being confronted. Moreover she didn’t want her only child to get spoiled so she always tried to keep me away from ‘bad friends' and girls. (the latter she referred to as ‘destiny destroyers’.

I had entered the fight with all confidence that I’d win and finally get mum to realize that I’m grow up now and able to take care of myself. But here I am now feeling beaten; like I’d been in the ring with both the Klitchko Brothers. I felt the weight of the world on my shoulder. I was hurt, mum was hurt. Normally when she gets back from work, we spend the rest of the day telling stories, seeing movies or reading. But today the house had been taken over by graveyard silence.

I know what I’ll do, I have to talk to mum, but I can’t do that now. I need to let the steam cool of some bit.
Later that evening I went to her room, it was locked from inside so I knocked. After the third knock she answered. I was happy when I heard her voice, it was calmer though there was still a hint of anger in it.
“Have you come to beat me now”? She asked.

I smiled to myself. Then I cleared my raspy voice tried to sing her favourite verse from Celine Dion’s son; Goodbye_The saddest word. If there was any song that could get to her and cause her heart to melt, it was that song, especially when I am the one singing it. I had just finished the line ‘there is no other love like a mother’s love for her child’. Before I entered the next line she opened the door.
“It’s enough before you damage my ear with your voice”. It was obvious she had been smiling though she tried to hide it when I walked in.

“I’m sorry mum”. I said as I fought back the tears that stung my eyes. “I should never have spoken to you in that manner, it will never happen again”.
She embraced me and took me into her room, I sat on the bed while she sat on the chair by the dressing mirror.

“I’m sorry too for embarrassing you before your friend and for treating her the way I did”.
Wow! I thought to myself. It’s not everyday you heard my mum apologize for anything. She saw the surprise on my face and smiled. “Yes I just apologized, enjoy it while it lasts because it my be the last you’ll ever get”. We both laughed.

After the apologies were said, forgiveness given and taken, we then talked about what had happened. In her usual way she reminded me how much she loved me because I was all she had. She went on to say she tries to be protective so that I won’t fall into wrong hands or mix up with people who would get me into trouble. Most importantly she wanted me to stay away from women, that I was too young to have a girl friend.

I laughed within me. “But mum she is just a friend, we were classmates in secondary school and haven’t seen each other since then. She was in the neighborhood and decided to stop by. Besides mum I am 23,I am old enough to take care of myself and don’t you think it’s better I brought my friends home so you’ll know those I hang out with?”.
“You’re 23 so you think you’re grown up? It is my duty to make sure you don’t make any mistakes. It’ll break me”.

I took her hand. “Mummy mi, nneoma. Sweet mother”. She rolled her eyes but said nothing.
“Have I ever given you any reason to worry over me? You have given me the best training and upbringing any parent can give a child, you need to stop worrying about me and start trusting me”.
“I trust you son, it’s these girls I don’t trust. They’re desperate”.
“Relax mum, I promised not to bring you shame and I’m committed to keep that promise. Moreover I was in the University for Four years and in those years I only came home on some weekends and holidays, the rest of the time I was alone in school, did you know what I was doing there?”
“I know you wouldn’t dare mess up. I’d have killed you myself”.

I smiled mischievously. She looked at me quizzically, wide eyed. But before she could speak I continued.
“Relax mummy, I’ve upheld the principles you’ve taught me so you can rest your mind and stop worrying about me”.

She heaved a sigh, obviously relieved. “OK son, I trust you completely and I’m proud of you”.
“Thanks mum. For everything.”
We embraced again for a long moment. When she finally let go I asked her “I’ve made food oh, what are you going to eat?”

“Anything you give me”. She replied. “As long as it is accompanied with medicine that will stop purging”.
We both laughed heartily as I walked out of the room.