“You are too sweet,” she say. “It’s just, Ken’s mother, she’s on my case.”
“The doctor’s mama? Why?”
She blow out a breeze inside my face, her breath smelling like toothspaste. “She was at our house this morning,” she say. “She comes once or so a month.”
“Why?” I ask. “Is that why you were looking sad just now? What is she finding?”
“She comes to ask if I am pregnant,” she say. “Can you imagine that? She has come every month in the last six months to say: ‘Where are my grandchildren? When will I carry my grandchildren and dance with them?’ Like I’ve hidden them in an attic somewhere. If she wants to dance, she should go to a bloody nightclub.” She keep talking before I can ask her who is bleeding blood. “It’s been a bit stressful dealing with his family, especially because we kept our decision not to have kids away from them for so long.”
I talk slow, thinking on my words, my English. “So she don’t . . . doesn’t know that the doctor didn’t want childrens until now?”
Ms. Tia shake her head no.
I slap a fly away from my nose. “Then tell her that you need time, that you and the doctor have just start to be trying. And if she cannot wait, then she can be facing her son and fighting him.”
Ms. Tia shrug. “Oh, she won’t believe me. She says it’s been too long. She’s tired of waiting.”
“Very soon,” I say, “the baby will come and then she will stop looking for your trouble.”
Ms. Tia give me a look, sigh, then push herself back up to her feet and pick up the chalk. “Let’s finish this off,” she say. “I’ll talk to Ken tonight about us going to the market together.”
CHAPTER 36
Fact: Nigerian senators are some of the highest-paid lawmakers in the world. A senator earns around 240 million naira ($1.7 million) in salary and allowances per annum.
Big Madam come back all happy and smelling like brand-new cloth.
She climb out of her car, go straight inside the house, and starts to open all the doors, to check which place is dirty and which is clean. She seem happy with it all, even pat my head two times when she see how the toilet tap is clean, bright. I make myself try and talk to her, ask her how her childrens are behaving theirselfs, if the cold in the London is not too much. She tell me the boy “is working in IT,” and the girl, Kayla, is having engagement with a man.
“A banker,” she say, laughing as she open the second door and peep inside the toilet. “They are getting married next year. He is the son of Senator Kuti. His name is Kunle. Very handsome boy. First-class graduate of the London School of Economics. I raised my daughter well. She took her eyes to the market and brought back a diamond. A rich, handsome boy.” She laugh again. “This bathroom is very clean,” she say. “Adunni, you kept my house well. Very good. Very good of you.”
I thank her and follow her behind, dragging her load of Abroad shopping.
“Put my suitcase here,” she say when we reach upstairs hallway, in front of her room. She put herself inside the sofa in the hallway, fan herself. “I forget how hot this country is when I travel out. What kind of cursed heat is this one? Adunni, put on that AC and fan for me. Put it on full blast.”
I put on the AC switch on the wall, and the fan on the floor. Cold air blow inside the room as I kneel down in her front and wait for her to be commanding me on what else she wants me to be doing.
Her mobile phone ring, she pick it: “Yes, I just came in from the airport. You heard? Good news travels fast. Thank you. Thank God. He is Senator Kuti’s son.” She throw her head back, laugh. “It is God-o. He is the divine connector. He connected my Kayla with the Kunle boy. The wedding? Next December. Yes, we have just over a year to plan. But there will be an engagement ceremony next summer, a big one. Of course, I will supply the fabric. Come and see me in my shop tomorrow and I will share more details with you. Let me rest my body. I will call you later.”
She end the call. “My phone has not stopped ringing since I got off the plane. Where is Chief?”
“He has gone out,” I say.
She hiss. “As usual. Useless man. I hope he didn’t disturb you when I was abroad?”
I think of what Ms. Tia say, about having a lock in my room. “No, ma,” I say.
“You can go,” she say. “Come back later to scratch my head. My feet have missed your massages.”
“Yes, ma.” I stand, kneel again. “I have something to ask of you, ma.”
She pull her box, zip the zip. “What is it?”
“I want a . . .” I scratch my head, trying to arrange my words well. “A lock to put into the door of my room.”
She turn her head, look me, eyes sharp. “Why?”
“Nothing, ma. It is just, sometimes. Because I am a growing woman, I want . . .” I bite my lip, confuse. Everything Ms. Tia tell me to say have become birds with wings and fly away from my mind.
“Did Chief come to the boys’ quarters?” She lean close, look inside my eyes. “Adunni, tell me the truth. Did my husband come to your room?”
I shake my head no, nod it yes. “No, ma. I mean, not him. It is the rat. The rat was making noise, so I want to lock the door. From the rat.”
“From the rat, abi?” She thin her eyes. “I understand. Get up and go, I will get the carpenter to fix a lock for you.”
“Thank you, ma,” I say, and stand. “I will come back around evening time, for hair scratching.”
There is no answer as I walk away from her front.
* * *
I return upstairs in the evening for the hair scratching.
As I fold my fingers to knock on Big Madam’s door, I hear plenty noises behind the door. I stop my hand, wait, and listen, even though I know it is bad to be doing so. It is sounding as if two people are in a big argument. I bend my head, listen well.
Somebody slap something, then Big Madam is shouting: “Chief, when will you stop disgracing yourself? Haba. Adunni is not yet fifteen, Chief. What were you looking for in her room?”
When Big Daddy answer, his voice is dragging, heavy with drinking. “Did Adunni tell you that I came to her room?”
“The girl asked me for a lock, Chief. Why will she ask me for a lock if not because you have carried your useless self to her? You have no answers, do you? Useless man.”
“Watch your mouth, this woman,” Big Daddy say. “Before I deal with you.”