Can we try again?

Twenty-two

Daniel

The sound of the phone ringing did a good job of bringing Daniel back to earth. He frantically pulled the sheets on his bed in search of his phone and he cursed when it landed on the floor with a thud. He picked it up, looked at the screen and sighed loudly.

It was his mum.

She'd been calling him every single day for the last three weeks since his arrival here. Sometimes even twice in a day. At first Daniel thought it was just because she missed him; it was still early days, so he understood, but now, three weeks later, it was becoming too much, irritating even.
He was a grown man capable of caring for himself. His mum should chill and let him be. But of course, he didn't tell her that.

Upon his arrival, he had stayed with aunty Uwa for some days, before finally moving in to a flat in Southampton which was closer to his University. He shared his flat with several other people, most of whom he'd never met or spoken to.

Contrary to what he'd thought, lectures for him would begin on Monday. It was supposed to have started two weeks ago, but it seemed he got the wrong memo.

So for the past week, he'd busied himself with getting familiar with his new environment, whilst constantly being bombarded with calls and texts from his mother. He had also had the chance to see an old friend who lived in London. Osas, was a secondary school classmate. Although they weren't particularly close friends back then, they still got along. And have been in contact with each other ever since they left school. Osas took  Daniel on a trip around the bustling city that is London, and all the famous landmarks that made the city. Daniel was delighted with his new life in this country which was incomparable to Nigeria in so many ways.

He stared at the screen again, contemplating whether or not to answer. He ignored his mum's calls the whole day yesterday, and knowing her, she would keep on calling until she heard his voice.

"Daniel where have you kept your phone since yesterday, I've been calling you," his mum's voice bellowed from the other end, immediately he answered. He didn't even have the chance to say any word.

Oh wow! I'm fine mum, thanks for asking. Very straight forward, like a typical African parent.

"Good afternoon mum," he said causally as though nothing had happened.

"Ehen good afternoon. Why haven't you been answering my calls." Of course she won't give it up so easily.

"Mum, I wasn't with my phone when you called." he lied.

"So, when you saw the missed call, why didn't you return my call?"

"I forgot, and I've run out of call credit, so, I wouldn't have been able to call."

"Hm," she mumbled over the phone. "I was starting to think you've forgotten me."

Daniel huffed and shook his head. How African parents think. "But, you're my mother, how on earth would I forget you?"

"I don't know o. Now that you're in England, you'll get carried away and soon, I'll be the last thing on your mind."

"But mum, I last spoke to you on Friday, which was only two days ago. It's not like you've gone all week without hearing my voice."

"Is it bad if I want to hear my son's voice everyday, eh? If you were home, won't I hear your voice everyday?"

Yeah, but mum, I'm not home, so you should let me be. Give me some breathing space, please. Let me find my own way. Daniel badly wanted to say those words to her, but refrained himself. He knew fully well that the reason she called everyday was to still retain that sense of normalcy, as though he was home. She missed him so much, and it was her way of  connecting with him.