How could she be engaged to five men?
My gaze fell on the rings which dotted the fingers of the sophisticated lady that walked into Mama’s shop. Lost in my stare, I quickly recalled a funny story my classmate shared on our group chat:
“My cousin has a gallery where she stores different rings she received from her numerous boyfriends. Interestingly, she vows to wear only the ring from the guy that pays her bride price first!”
“Why are you staring at my guest like a moron?” Mama snapped at me. “Can’t you greet?”
I felt humiliated. Mama sure knows how to belittle someone in public. Muffling a greeting, I quietly sat at a corner of the shop.
“Cynthia, you have such a pretty daughter,” the lady said to Mama. “She looked so much like you in your younger years but…”
“Hold it there, Faustina,” Mama interjected, “I know what you’re about to say; you think it’s my fault that I’m like this now? You think caring for three children is a joke?”
“Don’t get emotional, Cynthia,” the lady stressed, “I am only stating the obvious. I knew how attractive you used to be back then when we were in school. Who would have thought that the head-girl of the prestigious Queens’ College, set of 2003, would end up a mere petty trader.”
I became pained for Mama. I never knew she was her school’s head girl, but why didn’t she further her education? Why does her classmate look more sophisticated and younger than her?
“Nnenna, please come and get a drink for Aunty Faustina,” Mama intruded into my thoughts.
“Don’t bother, my dear,” Aunty Faustina restrained me, “your mother cannot afford my kind of drink.”
I saw the sadness written all over Mama. Couldn’t she have driven the lousy lady out of her shop?
“How old are you?” Aunty Faustina probed, looking me over like a prized possession.
“I’m eighteen.”
“Wow! Perfect! The eyes of the hunters will not escape this endowment.”
“That is enough, Faustina! Nnenna is still a small girl,” Mama asserted.
“Small girl indeed,” she retorted. “Cynthia, do you call a full-grown eighteen-year-old, a small girl? Please, don’t feign ignorance, it’s so easy to tell a ripe corn from the cob, your daughter has all it takes to satisfy any man…”
My naive mind was restless as I turned from Mama and back to the lady.
The nasty remark from that lady changed the entire atmosphere of our small shop. From the look on Mama’s face, it was obvious that she did not want me anywhere around her guest. But where else should I go to?
“Nnenna, this is your time,” Aunty Faustina continued. “Make hay while the sun is still shining so that you don’t end up like your mother…”
“Enough of this rubbish!” Mama flared, “Faustina, I think you’ve overstayed your welcome. Was this why you were so eager to see me? Please, I want to concentrate on my business.”
“Business, my foot! You had better close shopif you have nothing except to display than those faded okirika clothes you have here.”
Mama’s fury had reached its elastic limit and knowing what was coming next. I pulled a stool and was heading towards the door when her voice stopped me.
“Hey, come back here! aren’t you bothered that we’ve not made a single sale today?”
“Don’t take it out on her. it’s not her fault,” Aunty Faustina mediated.
“Ok. It’s my fault then,” Mama shook her head, “It’s my fault for getting married when my mates were in the university. It’s my fault for slaving day and night in this useless shop when my mates are…” she paused for a while and yawned.
“Hurry up now to Iya Ramota and buy the usual for our lunch.”
“Yes, ma,” I picked up two bowls and dashed out of the shop.
I had barely reached the end of the street when a wild noise suddenly broke out. Several shop owners were locking up their shops and some whose merchandise were displayed along the walkway, were moving them away. I ran back and right there in front of Mama’s shop, a Local Government van parked.
“Enough of this useless begging, woman,” one of the Local Government officials spoke angrily at Mama. “We issued you a Demand Notice plus one week of grace…you should have known by now that the government is a not a father Christmas.”
“Sales have not been regular…please…I will pay…” Mama knelt in tears.
Meanwhile Aunty Faustina was busy making different attempts to put a call through.
“Stop shedding crocodile tears,” the other official spoke in similar pattern. “We have been ordered to lock up all the shops of the erring shop tenants… “
“Officer,” one of the officials beckoned to the Policemen standing outside. “Please move these people out of this place…”
“Hold it there!’ Aunty Faustina stopped them, “Do you think you can disgrace my friend under my watch?”
“Madam, who do you think you are?” The Police officer challenged her. “Please respect yourself.”
“You will know my level of influence today,” Aunty Faustina dialled a number on her phone.
“Hello, Taju” she spoke confidently.
“Everyone, move outside immediately!” The Policemen ordered.
Mama and I cringed while Aunty Faustina maintained her composure.
“Taju, I need your intervention…” aunty Faustina continued, in a relaxed tone, “your boys are about to lock up my friend’s shop. I know…I know they’re doing their job… please…sweetheart…honey-pie…kiss…kiss…oh, thank you, my love…
She paused and handed the phone to one of the officials.
“Your boss wants to speak to you.”
“Hello sir,’ the official began, “okay…yes…yes, sir…”
Wearing a look of defeat, he handed the phone back to Aunty Faustina and vacated our shop with his team.
“Faustina, God bless you,” Mama embraced her warmly.
“Don’t mention. That is the least I can do for a friend who disregards me. I’ve only helped you to shift the judgment day a bit further, you’ll still have to pay in the end. The days when people avoid paying statutory bills are gone.”
“Thank you, ma,” I gazed at her with a fresh look of admiration.
“That’s okay my dear,” she pulled my jaw playfully, “at least, with the little you’ve seen, I’m not a bad person after all. Don’t mind the small drama you witnessed between your mother and I a while ago, both of us are childhood friends.”
Mama yawned and I suddenly remembered my undone mission at the food vendor’s shop!
