Guess Who’s Going to Ghana
Guess who’s going to Ghana!!!
Well, that was the plan at least... she was back in Lagos after a 4.5 year hiatus, she’d returned with a degree in Psychology - no she can’t psychoanalyze you and some experience in auto insurance - yes she still had vivid recollection of what a fist sized spikey looking ball of hail could do to a car, it’s not pretty! But she was back! Braids did! Amber alerts sent
IJGB ON THE LOOSE, IF FOUND FEED STREET FOOD AND ENTERTAIN WITH PLAYS AND BRYMO CONCERTS
She was still very into Gala, apparently everyone had moved on but our girl was loyal! Gala and LaCasera still hit the spot, a spot reserved specifically for the snack food she consumed on the many days she tagged along with her mama to her civil service job. Nothing else would suffice, well you could occasionally swap out LaCasera for the revolutionary Fayrouz which was a big hit sometime at the end of secondary school! “A unique blend of malt, fruit and sparkling water” did something magical to her taste buds; It was deeply satisfying and amazingly delicious - yes those adjectives are all absolutely necessary to describe Fayrouz!
Back to Ghana!
So the plan was, rendezvous at mama’s besties house the night before and head out early in the morning for the adventure of the summer! Road trip with mum and her bestie! No, that’s not irony - don’t hate, appreciate. Mama and her bestie are dope peeps! (Dope peeps is probably overcompensating a bit but I’ve committed to the line eh, stay with me).
*somewhere in Lagos at the rendezvous location*
She shared the guest room with her mama, trying to sleep while mama did some last minute packing. For reasons she no longer remembers, mama opened the door to step out, and he came in, knife in hand - The intruder, a youngish man brandishing a sharp looking chef’s knife... He gave crystal clear instructions;
Hand over all the money and jewelry and phones
DO NOT MAKE NOISE
DO NOT MAKE NOISE
OBEY 1 - 3
He glanced back to confer with an accomplice after providing aforementioned “detailed” instructions.
And here we have the makings of a robbery; Money in multiple currencies was handed over, jewellery and phones were produced and surrendered to the robber. Her Mama was good with obeying instruction No. 1. However, 2 and 3 were more of a struggle, she made noise, a lot of it! in Yoruba language. WTF?!! These Yoruba mothers like to be obeyed but clearly obedience isn’t their strong suit and sharp knives didn’t help! Mama got louder and louder... Two sentences really stuck out
ara adugbo egbami o!” the most haunting sentence she had ever heard come out of mama’s mouth... A sound that masqueraded as pure helplessness but really it was a call to arms. The adrenaline fueled fight response didn’t send blood coursing through mama’s biceps filling her arms with the punching power of Bash Ali... Nah! It amplified her voice, gave it a clear rich and crisp tone, coated with a tenor of pure primate survival instinct.
PLEASE DON’T TOUCH MY DAUGHTER! This in retrospect was stunning, a thing of beauty! Mama was not one to disrespect a fellow human, an image bearer (See Genesis 1 vs. 27), ultimately we all are even on our worst days. BUT mama ain’t taking no shit either, the confidence with which the sentence was uttered brought her calm and terror. She knew that tone, it dared any sentient being to defy it and face the consequences.
She lay on the bed right where she was, having obeyed dutifully but still absolutely terrified... she prayed for mama to stop shouting so loud, she prayed for all the generators to stop drowning out the force in mama’s voice, she prayed for the robber to leave, she prayed for the robber to steer clear of her body...
He left... it probably all lasted 30 minutes but she shook and shivered for hours after, unable to speak, nodding or shrugging in response to all questions, needing to leave but unable to move with any logical coordination, trapped in her body.
No one else heard mama’s voice that night but that sound was carved into the touchstones of her mind. It served as additional evidence, proof of what she’d known all her life, Mama was a force of nature. This female homo sapien she got to call mother was a masterpiece of divine creation, a reminder that God is very very real and incredibly gorgeous and generous. Yo! he made Mama, her mama!
