“Mummy! Mummy! I got 100% on my science test!” Asake bust through the door of No. 10 Oremeji road. She could barely contain her joy. Dropping her school bag on a couch, she went in search of her mother. “Mummy?”
When she checked in the kitchen, Emily, their maid told her, “Stop shouting, your mummy is resting.” Asake paused. The delight that had taken over her senses since Mr. Bayonle returned her test paper, dimmed. It was unusual for Mum to be in her room at three in the afternoon. But, in her condition, she could be tired and need to rest or… Before she checked on her mother, Asake knew it was the “or.” Sounds of weeping came from her parents’ bedroom. Asake’s heart fell. She returned to the kitchen. “Aunty Emily, please make some pap for Mummy.”
Asake changed out of her school uniform into a blue house dress her mother had sewn out of leftover material from her own flowery ankara. It was A-cut and flowed nicely around Asake’s blossoming body. She loved everything her mother made.
Asake carefully placed the bowl of pap on a tray. She squirted some canned milk on the cornmeal. No sugar. Sugar would cause more cramps. She added a bowl of fish stew and a glass of water. “Mummy,” she called tentatively cracking the door to her mother’s room. “I brought you some pap.” She shut the door and was enveloped by the heavy smell of stale blood.
“Take it away. I can’t eat anything.” Yomi, Asake’s mother laid in a foetal position on the left side of the king-sized bed that took up most of the room. The cracked voice came from under a light green bedsheet. It had the nasal tone of someone who’d been crying. Asake set the tray on the small table beside her mother.
Asake laid a hand on mother’s shaking body. “Mummy, please get up and eat. You have to regain your strength.” She didn’t ask what had happened. She didn’t ask why her mother was crying. She knew. It had happened before. Indeed, it was why Asake worked hard in the science subjects so she’d know what to do. Asake planned to be a doctor when she grew up. Even now, she had read about remedies that could relieve her mother’s pain and speed up her recovery so they could try again.
“Ahh, my life is over!” Yomi sobbed. “What will I tell Laolu? How will I face the world?” Her body shook as she wept. This was the fourth miscarriage that Asake knew of since she was old enough to run errands around the house. At thirteen, she’d become a pro at helping her mother overcome the trauma of miscarriage. She read any and everything she found on reproductive health. Now, she put on her doctor’s cap.
“Mummy, please roll over so I can examine you?” She carefully rolled her mother unto her back. “Shall we go to Dr. Oronde’s clinic right away? Mr. Akim hasn’t gone to pick Daddy up yet so the car is still outside.” At the word, “Daddy,” Yomi wept louder.
“My marriage is over!” she wailed, clutching her stomach. “Laolu will send me packing now, for sure!” Tears streamed from her eyes unto the pillow.
Asake pressed lightly on her mother’s abdomen. They’d been four months into this pregnancy so she knew they’d need to go to the clinic for a D&C. As she patted and pressed, she watched out for signs of pain. With the speed of someone who had some experience, she felt her mother’s forehead for a fever, changed her padding, and cleaned the patient. She sprayed some air freshener.
Asake coaxed her mother into a sitting position. “Mummy, mummy, please eat some pap for me.” She raised a spoonful of cornmeal to her mother’s lips just like Yomi had done for her when she was a baby.
Clear snot dripped into the spoon. Rather than opening her mouth for a spoonful of pap, Yomi said, “I have failed again. Laolu would send me back to my people.”
“No Mummy,” Asake encouraged, “Don’t think like that. We have to work on your recovery so you can try again.” In their hearts, they both feared what Laolu Dansa, Asake’s father would do when he returned from work to find his wife had lost another child.
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