“Omo òsì!” Fikayo’s mother yelled the minute she stepped into the house. She hadn’t even shut the door. “Where are you coming from?!”

Fikayo shut the door and faced her mother. Fire, who had returned from school earlier that week, had opened the door for her and was now seated on the couch, staring at her with...pity? Why did she pity her?

Fikayo had never been scared of her mother. She had worst nightmares she dreaded. Her mother was a handful but she never feared her. She couldn’t cause her more pain than she already endured.

“Mummy, I had a job. I told you before I left home,” she said staring at the tiled floor.

“Shut up! Do you even know what the time is or you’re too dumb to read the time? Past nine, òpònú! This is why I wish your father was around. It’s like that’s the only person you fear.”

Her mother tucked the loosened ends of her wrapper back in on her waist.

“You’re not stepping out of this house for the next two weeks. Let me see what stupid job you’ll go and do!” her mother spat, fuming.

Ehn? Was she hearing well?

Never being one to hold back from defending herself, she shifted from one foot to the other and spoke up, raising her head.

“Mummy, what? I didn’t even do anything wrong. I told you before leaving and it’s just past nine. It’s not even that late. You can’t just ban me from going out. I have to continue my business.”

Her gaze was now on the picture frame of her father in his academic gown six years ago when he had bagged his doctorate degree. He was a university lecturer.

She heard feet shuffling and watched her mother rise from her position on the three seater sofa. She now stood before her, boiling in anger. It was evident on her features.

“You’re talking back at me?” she said in a quiet voice.

Okay, she was in trouble. Her mother shouted a lot but when she spoke quietly, there was a big problem. She began panicking, shifting from one foot to the other.

“I didn’t talk back. I was only explaining myself,” she shrugged, a nonchalant look on her face. Her heart was racing but you wouldn’t detect from her confident exterior.

Her mother raised her hand and hit her cheek hard. She blinked rapidly, holding the throbbing cheek in shock. Fire walked to them in quick steps. She raised her hand to hit her again but Fire held it back.

“Mummy, please calm down. Ejo. E ma binu,” she pleaded.

Fire batted her eyes at Fikayo, signalling her to...apologise? Fikayo furrowed her brows at her sister.

“I’m sorry,” she forced herself to say.

“Omo òsì, I don’t need your sorry.” She pointed her thumb behind her. “Shebi this is a good child. You cannot learn from your sister. School, you did not enter. Sense, you don’t have. Òpònú aiyé ràdà!” 

Her mother eyed her from head to toe, a long hiss following the action before exiting the living room. Fikayo hurried to her room, tears stinging her eyes.
She wasn’t sure which hurt more, the slap or the insult.

Sense, you don’t have
School, you did not enter

She flung her bedroom door open, rushed in and locked it behind her. She knew Fire would come after her; however she wanted to be by herself, she wanted to smoke.

***
She was replying the only unread direct message from a client who had booked her for 12pm. Fire had begged their mum to forgive her on her behalf and she had reluctantly allowed her to start going out three days after the incident. Business was slow but she was not complaining. She still had enough savings.  After minutes of mindless scrolling on Instagram, she headed over to her sister’s room which was directly opposite hers. On getting to the door, she could hear her sister speaking gibberish or speaking in tongues as the SU people called it. She shook her head at how Fire had been brainwashed by these money hunger manipulative group called Christians. They asked for your money, your time, your talent and gave nothing to you in return. Imagine a bunch of grown adults gathered in one hall, all blabbering incomprehensible nonsense. She hissed and turned away from the door, attempting to go back into her room when her mother’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“You can’t greet me.”

She hadn’t seen her but was going to glue that thought to her mind and not let it spew to avoid her mother’s trouble. She turned and bent her knees slightly.

“Good morning, ma.”

“I don’t need your good morning. Keep it to yourself. Go and sweep and mop the parlour, dining, kitchen and this corridor for me.” She instructed.

Automatically, Fikayo squeezed her face in annoyance.

“Is it me you’re squeezing face for?Madam, do fast with that. I’m still going to send you to Mummy Ireti’s shop to pick up my dress for me.”

Her mother began walking to her room and Fikayo grudgingly got started with the chores. By ten am, she was done and retired to her room, completely forgetting about the dress she was supposed to get...until she heard a banging on her door.

“Open this door, Fikayo. Only God knows what you hide in this room that you’re always locking it,” her mother said angrily. For a moment, she wondered why her mother was being harsher on her than usual. Did it have to do with her coming home late the week before or her father leaving...again as she had predicted? Either way, she didn’t deserve it. Worse still, she was bearing it alone as her mother often excluded Fire from this unfair treatment. She lashed out at Fire sometimes but not as often as she did at her.

“Dá mi lóùn o!” came her mother’s loud voice.

She whined and braced herself up for what was to come, hurrying to the door. She unlocked and opened it, revealing her mother’s anger painted face.

“Oya, go and help me collect the cloth. I have to leave for the party in the next one hour. I can’t make the church wedding as it is.”

She stretched a two hundred naira note to her.
“Okay, ma,” she nodded, accepting the transport fare. She had no choice.

“Pèlé. Osé,” she thanked her tonelessly.
Glaring at her mother’s retreating back, she pouted, stomping her feet repeatedly when she was out of sight. The woman was infuriating.

“God, please save me from this woman,” she said without thought, closing the door.

“Oh,” she placed her index finger at the side of her head, as though in deep thought. “I forgot you don’t give a damn about me.”

***
She got back from the tailor’s shop few minutes past eleven am. Her mother thanked her and she actually looked happy. Fikayo smiled at her smiley face as she inspected the dress and nodded repeatedly in approval. Her mother could be a handful but she understood she was going through a lot in her marriage, if the union could even be called one. Her father drifted away an eternity ago.

“Okay, mummy, please bring party jollof for us.”

“I’ve heard.”

It was fifteen minutes past eleven am now and she knew she’d be late to her job. She cut her usually twenty minute long shower to ten minutes, got dressed in a blue and white striped knee length shirt dress and threw on her shoulder length curly wig. She remembered she had not moisturized her skin and quickly applied the regular Vaseline on her legs, hands and face. She applied some lip gloss and slid her feet into a pair of black sneakers.

Two okada rides later, she got to her destination at seven minutes past twelve. She wasn’t too late but she was still late. She called her client that she had arrived and soon a dark skinned slim lady unlocked the gate and let her in. She recognised her as the client and greeted her warmly, apologising for her lateness.

***
“I love the hair,” the lady gushed, running her hands through the braids and smiling at her phone camera.

“I’m glad you do. I’m ready to go now,” Fikayo said, taking a seat. She had been on her feet for the past two hours.

“Oh Okay!” the girl said still fawning over herself. She twisted and turned, positioning her head in different angles. Fikayo assumed she was making a snapchat or an instagram video.

“Yeah, I’m ready to go. You’re yet to pay me,” she said as softly as she soft could be.

“Oh, about that,” the lady raised her manicured index finger up, signalling her to hold on. She continued her video shenanigans and annoyance began rising in Fikayo.

“I’m in a bit of a hurry, if you could please pay me now so I can be on my way,” she smiled even though she felt like snatching the phone from the lady.

“Umm,” she started, finally keeping her phone down. “About that, I actually don’t have cash right now,” she said in a flimsy manner.

“That’s not a problem. I’ll send my account details to you now and you can make a transfer.”

“That’s the thing; my bank’s network is usually bad on weekends. Just send the details to me and I’ll send the money first thing Monday morning.”

Fikayo was now boiling in anger but kept her cool.

“I’m sorry, ma but you have to pay me now.”

“Monday morning, I’ll send it, okay?” she said dismissively.

“Excuse me? You booked me a week ago and you knew that your bank whatever doesn’t work on weekends, even though that sounds untrue but I’ll pretend it isn’t, so why didn’t you withdraw in advance? Ma, you have to pay me!”

“Look, little girl, I’ll pay you on Monday. I’m not repeating myself,” the lady said, haughtiness dripping from her tone.

Fikayo rose and shook her left leg, resting on the other. She felt the urge to insult the woman but decided to be professional. She might actually pay the money on Monday. At least, she had her phone number. She concluded she’ll let it go.

“Alright, ma. I’ll send my details immediately and will be expecting full payment on Monday morning.”

The lady crossed her legs, picked up her phone and waved a hand at her in dismissal. Fikayo walked away in anger, vowing to start collecting part payment before doing any job. She wasn’t cut out for drama.

...
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