Stronger Than Pain

Chapter Forty Four

It's been two months of checking mum's phone, her call logs, messages and every other app that could give me a hint to satisfy my curiosity. Two months since we saw dad last at the restaurant with her mistress. In all of these frantic search, nothing positive has ever turned up. All were dead end.

Does that mean dad hasn't contacted mum ever since then? Maybe to render an apology or what? Does that mean he no longer cares? That he has moved on?

I don't know why but my heart feels weak every single moment I remember dad, with my inner being still longing for him, for our perfect little home.

How hard could it have been to let go of all his troubles and channel my happiness and appreciation on mum? Why is accepting the situation between mum and dad so challenging for me?

Mum.

Mum had become a new being ever since that incident. She'd soiled herself with work that nothing else mattered anymore. I've never seen her grumpy or moody, she had remained cheerful when she could and indifferent the rest of the times. But most importantly, she'd started to add weight. I don't know and can't tell what to make of it, but her slender body seemed to be gaining pounds daily.

Mum finally has taken over completely from the corper receptionist which meant more working hours, and more money. Our financial situation had improved a bit, at least we get to eat thrice daily even though they weren't your standard meal.

To bring in more income, mum started to bake snacks, something she used to do for fun back then in dad's house. I bet she never knew they would come in handy one day.

She'd make crown cakes, meat pies and chin chin and then place them in a medium-sized transparent bucket she bought from the market. She'd then sit the bucket on her desk, the aroma luring coworkers and customers her way.

We had no oven for mum to bake with. What served as her oven was only our little stove, a larger pot which she'd bought alongside the bucket, some gravel which she'd packed from a building site nearby and some used tinned tomato cups.

She'd place the large pot on the burning stove, the gravel poured inside the pot and heated up, with the tomato cups turned upside down and arranged neatly inside. A sizeable cake pan which would contain whatever she was baking would be placed in the pot when it's heated enough and what so ever she was baking placed inside it. The process at first looked complicated but with time became easier.

Mum's delicacies were a rush as people preferred to buy it from her since she was closer than walking a mile to get same. And better still, hers were always fresh.

Aunty Mma still speaks with us through mum's phone but mum haven't allowed any other outing with her. I don't know why, maybe cos she's still scared of another run in with whomever dad would be caught with. I guess mum was shielding her heart from another pain.

Slowly, mums side business kicked off and within few weeks, she'd asked a carpenter to make a wooden showcase for her. This she uses to display her snacks just beside her desk, thankfully the nice manager never minded. In fact, she was a huge customer to mum.

After school,  Zara and I most times would visit mum and help out with little things, but on most days she'll send us off home immediately with some snacks and our house key. She didn't want to expose us to the factory life yet.

Gradually she added soft drinks and sachet water, and then sweets, biscuits and edible gums. Mum's business boomed, skyrocketing over the sky. Few times, people would book her for small chops which she'd make and deliver with the littlest profit. According to her, she needed to grow her customer base.

On a beautiful Saturday, mum baked a medium sized crown cake for her manager's son who just turned seven. It was so simple but beautiful decorated like Mickey Mouse, and the boy loved it. Her manager was touched and appreciated her kind gesture, but this gesture didn't end with thanks as she showed all and sundry mum's handiwork. Many were pleased but some of her coworkers were dying with jealousy. It was as though mum just joined the company and snatched her away from them all.

Slowly, mum's customer base tripled with orders ranging from chops and birthday cakes filtering in once in a while. It was amazing seeing my once housewife mum suddenly becoming an acknowledged business woman.

But one thing worried me. Mum was still growing fat, like tripling. .

Mum's new workload was very stressful especially having to combine it with her day job, snacks making and caring for us. However I did my best to ensure she never worried about Zara and I. I became Zara's second mum, watching as she grew daily into a plump but troublesome girl.

"Ada, I want to tell you something, come sit with me" Mum said as she adjusted on our flat mattress.

I was on the carpet studying a new text the state government was kind enough to distribute to all public schools, though we were mandated by our principal to return it unscathed before the end of term.

I dropped the text, stood up and walked over to her, slowly settling on the mattress. She cleared her throat, a bit of confusion and uncertainty enveloping her face.

"Ada m, I don't know if you have noticed anything?" she began.

I looked up at her, my eyes scanning them deeply. Yes I'd seen something, or at least I've noticed some more. Some days, I've been wanting to ask, but on another though would quickly push it away. I was scared to ask, scared to hear the truth. So I stared hard at her, and blinked away a tear...
*****

Hi all

It's a short chapter. I know but I couldn't bring myself to write more.

I'm really sad.

The Lagos Otedola bridge explosion gave me shivers. Our own people, siblings, relations, colleagues, friends, neighbours, even people we might not have known but still are Nigerians were affected!

54 cars, burnt. Occupants burnt beyond recognition! Oh my goodness!

It's been hell of a week in Nigeria. Since Monday up till yesterday, it has just been from one bad news to another.

Tribal and ethnic wars. Fulani herdsman attack, slaughtering over hundreds in Plateau state. Which way Nigeria?

No sympathy from our leaders, no measures put in place to curb these. All we do is cry, sleep, wake up and carry on as though nothing happened.

Are we now all immune to these shocks? Are we taking these sad news as normal? Is this how it is in other countries? Countless killings? Most killed because of cows?

Is human life now quantified with cows? Where has Nigeria gone? I meant the old Nigeria we all use to be proud of?

I thought they said the youths are the leaders of tomorrow? Or has that changed?

Who are we then? Are we not the youths? Or are we still bring assessed to see if we are capable?

My heart is broken!

Yes, it wasn't the government's fault that the inferno happened, but there were other countless and meaningless deaths they could have stopped, but didn't. I may not have a relation, friend or sibling that died in that inferno but I lost a fellow Nigerian! I lost my fellow Nigerians!

Oh their families! Praying and hoping they'd be home, safe and sound but not knowing they're gnashing their teeth in pain. This hurts! This hurts!!

God rest their souls.