Can we try again?

Forty-six

". . . Happy birthday to yooouuuu." The song ended with loud cheers and applauds. 

"Jameel, oya make a wish and blow out your candle." Buchi joked and everyone laughed.

"Don't worry, as his mum, I get to do it on his behalf," I said. 

I crouched on the floor, supporting Jameel as he stood in between my thighs; the cake placed on a table in front of us. To be fair, he was too young to have any idea what was going on and why there seemed to be a lot of commotion in the room. All he was interested in the moment was the flame of the candle. He was leaning forward, trying to touch it. That seemed to fascinate him more than the idea of a party. 

It was obvious that the party was more for us the adults than him the celebrant.

I closed my eyes and made a wish on his behalf and then with a puff, blew the candle out.

Everyone cheered again. 

"So, what did you wish for eh?" Buchi asked.

Oma rolled her eyes and gave him a slight smack on his arm. "That's the point of making a wish. You don't tell anyone, duh?" 

"Our wish is between my mummy and me, uncle Buchi," I said in a baby-talk voice.

"I hear you people. Abeg cut this cake and let's eat joor."

"Food, that's all you know. In fact, I'll make sure you don't eat any of this cake." This was coming from Oma. She picked up the cake from the table and trotted into the kitchen to share it like she was in charge. Buchi picked up the pace and followed her. 

"You better don't follow me o," She tried to sound stern and firm, but one could tell she was teasing.   

Oma has indeed been in charge of this party. Left with me, I wouldn't have done anything other than go out to a restaurant or something. After all, my Jam Jam's not even going to remember this party, so why bother?

"But you have to make it special though, even though he remembers it or not," Oma had said to me. "It's celebrating his first year of life Mira. First year in this world. It's not easy na. Despite what happened at the very beginning of your pregnancy, he's still here." I knew exactly what she meant by that. Suddenly, I had a flashback to that hot afternoon, the ride with Buchi to the clinic, Buchi and his boys in the room, and how I was going to get rid of  . . . I couldn't even bear to think of it. It made my skin crawl with revulsion.

A question had popped into my head: What would my life be without Jameel in it now? 

"It doesn't have to be a massive party with canopies or a DJ or lots of people." She continued. "We'll get a cake, food, drinks. In fact, I don't mind doing the cooking. We can invite some of the children from church, get some biscuits and sweets for them. You know, like I said, it doesn't have to be big, but it'll be special. We have to make it special for him Mira. And we'll take lots of pictures and videos. We have to."   

And that was how she convinced me into throwing this party.  She had a valid point though, and I couldn't disagree with her. Jameel deserved a special party. 

Oma had everything planned and organised. She enjoyed things like that. That's the reason I constantly tell her that she should be a caterer or an event planner. She was good at it.

She had everything 'under control' and wouldn't even let me pay for anything. I had to forcefully shove some money into her hands to buy the ingredients for the food and some drinks. She had the cake made and decorated by someone she knew, at a discounted price. And she paid for it too!