Getting to the front porch of her house, the sweet aroma of egusi soup flooded her nostrils. She smiled excitedly. Her mother was back from her special prayer program. Her father’s philandering disturbed her mother only when he left home for a long time to be with his many women. She had no problem if he dated other women, as long he always came back home to her. At times such as this when he was gone for many weeks, she would become a shadow of herself and very sombre, hopping from one church to the other, one prophet to the next – anything to bring her husband back home.
Perceiving this pleasant smell, Fikayo had mixed feelings. Why was her mother suddenly cooking her father’s favourite soup after weeks of dragging her feet, looked sullen, wearing a permanent frown? Something was up and the smile that had been playing on her lips quickly disappeared. She hoped it was not what she was thinking!

She knocked on the door and shouted
“It’s Fikayo.” when her mother asked who was at the door.

“Oluwafikayomi,” she beamed, displaying her white set of teeth.

Strange, Fikayo thought. Her expression mirrored her thoughts as she played with the loop earring dangling from her ear.

“Mummy?” It wasn’t a question but she spoke as though it was. “You’re happy?”

Her mother feigned a frown as she went back in and Fikayo followed suit.

“I cannot be happy again? Especially when my husband has called to request for my special egusi?” The radiant smile reappeared.

Which juju is daddy using? Is my mother under a spell?

Her mother walked into the kitchen and stood by the gas. She removed the pot cover revealing the bubbling soup. Fikayo’s mouth began watering at the sight but she refocused on the matter at hand.

“Daddy is coming?” She stood by the open kitchen door, leaning on the wall, her left hand on her waist.

“Yes, darling! My darling husband is coming back!” Her voice was almost squeaky. She sounded like a hormonal teenage girl in “love”.

“Coming back to where?” she asked dumbly. She shook her head in disbelief.

“Sóò gbóràn ni?”

Her mother was now in the store but her voice was loud and clear. She came out shortly after with a tuber of yam and placed it on the island. She grasped a knife from a drawer and turned her head to Fikayo.

“Oya, Fikayo, come and cut this yam for me.”

Fikayo kissed her teeth.

“Mummy, I only just got back. Let me go and change first,” Fikayo said indignantly.

Her mother held her palm up towards her in a bid to stop her as she had already turned to leave.

“You’re not going anywhere. Come and cut it for me.”

“Oooooh,” she whined in exasperation.

“Mummy, I’m coming. These jeans are not exactly comfy.”

Before her mother could respond, she turned and left the kitchen in hurried steps. In her room, she threw her wardrobe open and grabbed the first tank top her hands could find and threw it on. Her eyes darted to her ash tray peeking from under the bed. She bent low to push it out of view. She needed to be more careful. She interchanged her sandals for a pair of flip flop slippers and picked up the black shorts lying on her bed and wore them swiftly.

Back in the kitchen, her mother had already begun cutting the yam. She went and stood by her left and attempted to take the knife from her to continue the task.

“Don’t worry. I’ll do it. But you’ll pound the yam for me,” her mother said, a mischievous smile budding on her face.

“Ehn?”

Her mother’s smile was full blown now.

“Béèni, you’ll pound it! What if your future husband likes pounded yam? You’ll go and be ordering it abi.”

Fikayo laughed, shaking her head at the fatuity of her mother’s words. Not everyone would go to the moon and back just to please a man like she readily would. And who said she desired to get married? What good had marriage added to her mother? All it brought her was torture and sadness.

“Mummy, if it has koko you must not complain o. You know I don’t know how to pound yam.”

Her mother gave her the stink eye.

“I kuku know. I’ll kuku pound it for my husband myself. I want everything to be perfect for him today.”

Fikayo rolled her eyes before walking to the other side of the island and getting seated on a stool.

“You are sitting down!” Her mother yelled. “Ah! This is why I miss my Firefunmi. Omo mi, she would have been helping me with this meal if she was home.”

Fikayo rolled her eyes and let out a low groan.

“Dìde fún mi jàre!” her mother commanded and she heeded, scrunching up her face.

“Oya peel the yam for me. I want to sit down small. You did not even pity me. I’ve been on my feet since. Can’t you see how I’m sweating?”

“But I’m just coming back from work. I haven’t even sat down,” she defended.

“Isé wo? I don’t know who gave you the work you’re going up and down to do. You can’t stay home and read for your Post Jamb abi. You know how much your father is ready to throw away just for your education. You think it’s everybody that has a father that will send them to private school because they failed public school Post Jamb. You better pass that exam.” Her mother spat out angrily.

The words hurt like she had been punched in the face. She had felt worse pain anyway. Her mother walked out of the kitchen and she faced the task at hand.

***
Her father belched loudly after devouring his meal of pounded yam and egusi soup. He downed a full glass of chilled water, and then belched again. Fikayo scrunched up her face at her seat at the dining table. Her mother had insisted they all ate together as “one big family”. She rolled her eyes internally as she glared at her dad who was busy washing his hands in the green plastic bowl set before him. She drew her gaze away as he withdrew his hand and wiped his mouth with it.

“Fikayomi, please clear the plates,” her mother said.

She rose from her seat and cleared her father’s empty plates, making sure to avoid eye contact with him. Walking to the kitchen with the plates in both hands, she heard her mother ask her dad if he enjoyed the food. She rolled her eyes and hissed loudly as she was out of earshot now. Her mother had asked him that over ten times in the cause of the meal, which was less than thirty minutes. She went back to the dining to get the rest of the plates, only to find her mother resting her head on her father’s left shoulder, while the man gave his newspaper his full attention, his face blank. She felt like grabbing the pair of glasses hanging on his nose and shattering it with her foot.

Seeing her father again, as always, brought back bad memories; memories she wanted thrown into the deepest of oceans, buried deep into the ground, never to resurface.

***
She retired to her room after washing the dishes, overwhelmed with the pains from the past. She needed to smoke...she needed to smoke right away. She fetched the cigarette pack and lighter from where she had hidden them in her wardrobe and put a stick in between her lips immediately. She lit it and began to smoke. She wished her pain would vanish. She wished it would go with the wind and never find its way back to her.

After an hour of smoking, she stripped off her clothes and jumped into the shower. She spent thirty good minutes scrubbing her body hard as if the force would scrub away the pain.

The next morning, she woke up feeling better and brighter. She grabbed her phone and opened the Instagram app. She had one direct message. It was a prospective client asking if she would be available to braid on Thursday, which was four days away. She responded before going back to her feed and scrolling absentmindedly. It was Sunday but she wasn’t going to church. The family only went to church once in a while and she knew today would not be one of such days. Her mother had been dragging her to church for the past three weeks so they could pray together for her father’s return but she knew the woman would forget all about church until a problem with her father arises again. She only knew God when she needed him. Fikayo herself didn’t bother praying along with her mother. She could have forced her to go to church but she definitely couldn’t force her to pray. She didn’t even believe God answered prayers. The man upstairs just did whatever pleased him. If he indeed answered prayers, then where had he been when she prayed and screamed and cried for his help? Where had he been when she needed saving?
She felt tears on her cheeks and raised her hand to touch her left cheek. She got out of bed to brush her teeth and apply her lip scrub. She settled down on her bed afterwards, putting a video call through to her elder sister, Fire, who was away in Babcock University.
Her sister’s smiling face showed up on her phone screen and it oddly reminded her of Kaima.

“My baby,” Fire cooed, shaking her head from side to side in excitement. “My cute baby, how are you?”

“I’m fine.” She replied, even though she really wasn’t. She had called to distract herself for a little while from her troubles. “I can see you’re happy as usual. Does that smile ever go away?”

Fire’s smile widened, her beauty shining more. She adjusted the Ankara bonnet on her head while speaking.

“It does go away but not because of sadness. I can’t be walking around smiling like a weirdo.”

“You’re already a weirdo, my dear,” Fikayo laughed and her sister joined her.

“When is your project defence again?” Fikayo asked.

“Next week Monday. Keep me in your prayers.”

Fikayo snorted. “You know I don’t do that prayer sh*t. Who prayer epp?”

“Well, me. And it can help you too, Fiks. God is always ready to hear you. He loves you so dearly. Did you listen to the audio message I sent to you?”

Fikayo was feeling uncomfortable with the line of conversation. She had called so she could gist with her and probably feel better but her sister was further dampening her mood.

She frowned. “Fire, abeg, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Well you’ll keep hearing it from me!” her sister said stubbornly. “I love you, so I’ll continue telling you about the one who loves you more than I do!”

Fikayo hissed, her frown deepening. Her sister had become born again in her second year and ever since, she never ceased to preach to her.

“I love you, mama. Stop frowning joor.”

“Fiks! Fiks mama!” Fire hailed, laughing loudly.

She could hear someone tell Fire to stop making noise and she mouthed sorry in the person’s direction. She guessed Fire’s voice had woken her roommate up from sleep. Fikayo couldn’t hold in her laughter.

“I love you, Fire, but you’re a rascal. How does your boyfriend cope?” she teased.

A shy smile adorned Fire’s beautiful face.

“He’s not complaining. And I’m not a rascal!” She feigned a frown.

Fikayo twisted her mouth in disbelief.

“The guy is boring anyway. His IG is full of boring long sermons as captions. The guy should go open a church or something instead of disturbing us with this Jesus talk.” Fikayo rolled her eyes at the end.

Her sister’s famous smile made a re-appearance.

“You can just un-follow him if you’re so disturbed by his ‘sermons’.” She made air quotes as she said the last word. “Although,” she drawled. “I’m glad you are. And my bobo is not boring. You’ll speak to him someday soon, maybe then you’ll know. In fact, I should make that happen before we leave school.”

“Whatever!” Fikayo said with a flip of her hand. “Have you guys even kissed?”

Fire burst into loud laughter and she heard her roommate yell for her to shut up. Fire smiled sheepishly in her roommate’s direction. She turned back to her.

“Kai, Fiks! We haven’t and we don’t need to. We are affectionate but we don’t go that route.” She shook her right index finger.

“Ugh! Y’all are so booooriiiiinnnnnggggg!”

...
Fikayo's family was introduced into the story. I absolutely live Fire's character.

By the way, Fire is pronounced Fee-ray.

Did you enjoy reading this chapter? If yes, vote, leave a comment and share with a friend 🙏🏾❤.

P.S: Double Updates 😁! Just to say thank you to the fourteen people who have read Chapter 1.