Creases: The Series

#1 Gowing Down Memory Lane

2022 is soon wrapping up and as expected, a lot has happened this year. Because we can’t wait to set new goals or celebrate new wins, here’s Muna trying to put the past behind her.

2022 was heralded by a mighty downpour that beat on our roofs like the thudding of sturdy hooves. We thought the sky was going to bleed itself out until it stopped as abruptly as it had started.

First, It was the gust of cold wind that blew on our faces as most of the family gathered under our Udara tree—as was the tradition, to sing choruses and tell stories if we had any.

"Leave this your boyfriend," Chidi teased me, assuming it was the only reason that could keep me glued to my phone screen. "It's a few minutes to the new year and this is family time."

"But I'm following" I protested.

"I don't feel you, girl. Come on," he nudged.

I reluctantly put my phone aside and grunted something about the new year posing more tension while still paying attention to the story Aunty Nneoma was telling at the time.

"Take things slowly," Araoluwa's voice grazed my thoughts. I smiled ruefully wishing he was here for he constantly had a way of easing my anxiety whenever I got wrung in the neck. But a painful lurch brought me back to reality.

He shouldn't be in my head.

"Then sings my soul, my saviour Lord to thee. How great thou art...." Aunty Mimi raised the popular hymn. Who could believe she still sang beautifully at sixty-something years?

It didn’t take long to get immersed in the song because Dexter was giving it a touch with his baritone voice as Aunty Nneoma’s sweet, smooth tone rang out in intensity.

"How great thou art. How great thou art..." We all sang.

"It's five seconds left!" Sarah announced, simultaneously reaching for the fireworks. The whole family was scampering about so they could take a good position.

"Great," I replied mirthlessly, bracing my eardrum for its impact. I've never been a lover of fireworks, my resolve strengthened after it blew Sarah's right palm. Yet, she didn't learn her lesson because she remained at the forefront—although under her parents' watch.

"Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!" They all shrieked at the top of their voices as the year rolled in with a roar. No one paid attention as we hugged, shook, and smiled at each other until the rain poured down on us with a mischievous glint.

At first, we were happy to be soaked in the first rain of the year—though it came too early—until we got dripping wet and started shivering.

"Happy New Year," I grinned at Chidi, my teeth clattering against one another.

"Thank you," he mouthed. "You should go in though. I mean, it's freezing out here and we're freaking wet!"

I stuck out my tongue before scrambling for shelter.

I was going to miss everyone.

Christmas was lavishly celebrated because Uncle Jacob, who'd started his house project earlier in the year, got to dedicate the same while his eldest brother successfully organised a Thanksgiving for his wife who'd undergone surgery.

I was most especially thrilled about the surplus dish I would have for myself because Mother’s delicacies were always a delight. So I’d cleared up my desk to come spend Christmas in the village.

On the day of my arrival, I bumped into my mother who was probably headed to an in-law’s place.

"Mummy!" I shrieked in joy, running into her arms.

"I've missed you so much!" I exclaimed, letting her embrace me for as much as it took to reunite with one's daughter after six years.

Staying away from home for that long hadn't been deliberate. I'd only felt the burning desire to map out a different life from myself but ended up enjoying the solitude that going back lost its attraction.

Daddy may have been the cause, setting up rules that made me hate myself because I always broke them. So I was thankful for the little break I had gotten when work took me to the south and cherished it, even more, when I made decisions without having anyone question their relevance.

"How's daddy?" I asked dispassionately after she let me go.

"With your uncles, "mum replied, not wanting to dwell on the indifferent tone she’d detected. "He’s been expecting you. Now you’re here, let’s go check the progress at your uncle’s house. That was where I was headed by the way."

"I n'ezuike, you hardly rest" I teased her. "I bet you were coming from a house visit."

"Why then am I home for Christmas if not to catch up with umunnem?" She shrugged.

"Nothing else, mummy. Nothing," I chuckled, letting her hold my hand as we walked through the newly graded path that led to Uncle's house. I could inhale the harmattan dust that spread the scent of dry leaves. My throat was getting itchy again.

I was finally going to see the mansion I heard my uncle was building in the village—the biggest my people had seen. Kiara, my younger sister, had been the one to draft the initial design but my uncle had discarded it saying it didn't meet up to its standard. His decision was influenced by his cousin who was a realtor with no knowledge of designing buildings. But as they say, he could spend his money in whichever way pleases him.

"How’s Calabar?" Mummy interrupted my thoughts. "I hope the weather is treating you fine."

"It's got no choice especially when I have an apartment of my own. You should visit someday."

There was momentary silence then a deep breath before mummy spoke. This time with a grimace. "You know it's a pleasure but I can't come for now."

"Because daddy won't let you or you don't want to leave your primary school for two weeks?" I couldn't mask my disappointment especially when she flinched under my penetrating stare. She was aware I knew daddy wasn't happy with me as a father should. He had always expected me to pursue his desire of becoming a lecturer and he felt my journalism job in Calabar was a waste of intelligence I just couldn't comprehend.

"It's fine mummy," I relaxed again. "We've still got time. Maybe I would have gotten a duplex by the time you'd be ready to visit."

"Your job pays you well then," mummy expressed with joy. "You always have my blessings..."

"To run a department of scruffy personnel who never understand the ideals of revolutionary writing?" I cut her short. "You wouldn't believe that an intern I was supervising refused to review her work all because she felt it didn't suit her style. I got her replaced immediately. I don't need anyone taking me back biko!"

Mummy must have noticed the irritation in my tone for she tapped my back gently and said, "everyone deserves a chance to grow and you would deprive them of such if you aren't patient."

Feeling remorse because I had pictured myself as daddy who never tolerated anything he considered incompetent, I agreed immediately. "You're right, mummy. It's not just easy being patient sometimes."

"You can say that again."

Soon, we got to a massive gate that stood out in its height and intricate designs. "How did uncle get convinced to use this kind of gate in a village? Regular houses in America rarely have this!" I blurted out.

Mummy raised a quizzical brow before bursting into laughter. "It's his choice, sweet. Wait until you see the gigantic building inside."

"Really?" I rolled my eyes, realizing she was right by the time we got in. His twelve-roomed mansion stood sturdily on his piece of land with carefully screeded walls and corners that were beautifully carved; high arched windows, enormous pillars that guarded the entrance, and a door that could accommodate an elephant. Uncle had overdone himself this time!

The house would have been completed if the tilers he’d hired hadn’t suspended their jobs because the dropped ceiling artisans had ghosted him. However, we found some laborers already laying the interlocking pavers as uncle was expectant that the house would be ready before the 31st.

We hoped so too.

I trailed after mummy as we checked every corner of the house, appreciating the efforts my uncle had put into building a big place even though he lived in America. He was so thoughtful enough with the number of rooms because he knew how large the family could get during occasions like this.

After we were done, we walked back to the old house where we all stayed. It was a twin bungalow with a front lawn overlooking the building. My grandfather had married two wives and his children had built two houses to accommodate both families. They hadn't done so to create a chasm since it was a collective effort. They just didn't go through with their plans of building a block of flats for each child.

Going to my room, I unpacked my bag when my gaze caught a bracelet I may have hurriedly tossed in. I winced, disgusted I hadn't gotten rid of it yet. Now it was going to remind me of Araoluwa again.

"Arrghhh," I clenched my teeth as I kept my clothes aside and flopped on the bed. I really couldn’t help going down memory lane.

I met Araoluwa when publishers were rejecting my applications like the flu. I had quite an impressive portfolio and couldn't place my mind on what the problem was even though I got positive reviews from my referrals. They weren't the publishers after all.

I had just concluded one of my disappointing interviews and booked a ride home at double the price — even the universe was against me!

Thankfully, the driver didn't take long to arrive so I wasted no time in hopping into the backseat and fished out my phone to get distracted. However, it couldn't refrain me from bursting into tears as I'd gotten beyond my endurance point.

"Are you alright, Ms.?" The driver asked, alarmed as he slowed down to look for a safe spot to park.

"What's wrong? Are you fine?" He kept asking in worried tones, clueless about what to do.

Ignoring his show of concern, I continued sobbing until I'd had my fill. Whoever said crying wasn't therapeutic! Then I blew my nose noisily and eventually spared him a glance. "You can drive now," I told him without a flinch. "You shouldn't have stopped."

I could imagine his sockets popping out in amazement. "Are you out of your mind? Se o wa okay sha?" he lashed out, slightly offended by my indifference. I had scared him and was showing no remorse. "What if it was an emergency?"

"It's not. You can keep going now."

"You know," he started as he turned on the ignition. "You're not the only crazy woman in the world. But if you don't want anyone showing concern, don't go about alarming them unnecessarily," he chided.

"How dare you…" I halted, catching myself on time. I knew he was right but I didn't want to concede. "I'll like to be left alone," I told him instead, bringing my phone to my face to tell him the conversation was over.

"I once lost my cousin to suicide…" he started. I could see that this one was awfully stubborn but he continued nonetheless.

"I wasn't sensitive enough to know what he was going through because I was so busy minding my business that I couldn't offer him a shoulder to cry on. After that, I vowed never to keep to myself if my help was needed. So, no, I won't let you be if you break down in my car again," he warned me.

I jerked my head to look at him closely and not the photo his profile had shown me and was struck to realize I hadn't taken note of his firmly chiseled jaw and his massive hair. God! I love healthy hair!

"What's your name again?" I asked cause I'd forgotten.

"Araoluwa," he supplied. "It's a pleasure meeting you."

I scoffed, refusing to be charmed. "Do you always tell that to your customer?'

"It's simply called courtesy," he chuckled, warming his way into my heart.

I liked him instantly.