Scars (Romola 2)

11: Mother's House

Nothing had changed about the house.

Except for a few stares, no one on the dust ridden road spared her a glance. She approached the bungalow from the narrow path near the house. The fishnet door was wide open and the spring that ought to keep the door shut, hung loosely from a wooden bar. A couple of clothes lay in the basin outside while the hot sun rays struggled to find a way onto the raised porch.

Romola paused, listening. There was nothing extraordinary here. No reason to suspect that her step father or half brother would be there. She crept up the staircase and into the house.

Where the sunrays failed to reach, it's burning hand succeeded in amplifying the dark hot spots. Romola squinted, walking past the living room sofas to her mother's room. It had been two years since she had come to the house. Two years since she had seen her mother's face.

The woman she sought sat on the low bed, staring at the wall. The loose strap from her mother's singlet dangled off the right shoulder and the wrapper around her waist begged to be thrown away. Romola fought the urge to throw her hands around the woman.

Instead, she gazed at the woman's exposed back. There were dark marks, cuts and bruises on formerly smooth skin.

Her mother hissed, turning a bony face to the door. "You don't know how to greet abi? Didn't I tell you not to come here?"

The tender cord of love snapped as Romola jerked. Her mother's swollen purple eyelid refused to remain open.

"Maami?"

"It's nothing."

The tears in her mother's eyes told a different story. Tears that were soon followed by body wracking sobs.

Romola put her arms around the older woman."Maami, it's okay. It's fine."

"DId I say it's not okay? Did I tell you I have a problem?" The same hands that had cradled her to sleep pushed her into the pile of clothes in the corner.

Romola, still reeling from her mother's push, rose and dusted her dress, refusing to meet the woman's eyes. Seeing her mother in this condition hurt more than the realisation that her mother did not care for the comfort of her hands.

"Why are you still with him?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Her mother scrambled off the bed and began to force the short bedsheet over the edge of the bed. She tried to tuck the bed sheet but as she pulled, the bedsheet began to pull out of the other side of the bed.

"How did you know I was here?"

Her mother frowned then returned to bed dressing. "You walk like foolishness."

Romola tried to tuck the bed sheet into the edge where it was pulling out. Her mother pulled the whole bed sheet off the bed and flung it in her face. "Don't contaminate my house with your filthy hands."

"Stop it Maami." Romola barked. "The world can insult me but not you. Not Sunbo. but not from you and Sunbo. Do you even know the truth?"

"Heheheh." Her mother's laughter did not bore any good wishes. "When dey don blow your whole ynash to the village, you wan use leaf cover am?"

Hot tears pierced Romola's eyes and unspoken sorrow gripped her throat. She fought through it to say, in a high pitched voice. "I am not a prostitute. I am a dancer. I used to dance."

"Go and lie to somebody else."

"Maami." Romola's voice quivered but she looked into her mother's eyes. "Whether you want to hear it or not, I will tell you the truth. I am not a prostitute. Yes, I was the person in the video but I didn't upload them. I'm even trying to go fix my life. Isn't that what you want?"

Her mother screamed. "I wanted you to make your life better. You had a good future but you choose to waste it for what? Dancing? Shaking bum bum? You are the most useless mistake I ever made in my life."

"Am I?" The tears streamed down her cheeks now.

She had come here to inform her mother of SUnbo's planned flight but she wouldn't let herself be berated.

"Am I really that useless? Do you know who has been sending you money every month? Do you think the money Sunbo uses just falls from the sky? Do you think you are just very lucky?"

"Do you think I don't know that Baba Jide steals the money from inside your wrapper and I send money because I can't stand the thought of you and Lolade not eating at night. But somehow, I am useless. Me? Useless, when your stupid husband is not doing anything."

Her mother slapped both sides of her face.