Mother is coming tomorrow to get us, we are finally going home. Segun said with a weak smile as he entered grandma’s store. Grandma’s store is filled with old buckets, big black pots, empty kegs and it also serves as room for the rats, Segun and me.
It was our first trip to the village. I and my two older brothers barely slept a wink the night before. We were in the seventh heavens; we were going to the village to see our grandmother. The trip to the village was a bomb, daddy kept on telling us delightful tales of growing up in the village. Then, the only thing that stuck was that there will be many bush-meats and we would get to eat as many as we like. I fell in love with the thought of eating these meats instantly. And he was right, for a little while, we ate a lot of bush-meats and drank palm wine.
Five days later, mummy left before my brothers and I woke up. Daddy became really cranky, but the bush meats were still coming and grandma was still preparing obe ishapa and pounded yam; so, it wasn’t so bad. Two days later daddy travelled. It wasn’t so bad still for about a month. Then, aunt Wande came to the village bearing the news of dad’s disappearance. It wasn’t long that we started drinking garri in the morning, afternoon and night.
Suddenly, grandma wasn’t so friendly anymore. Aunt Wande’s favourite thing is slapping my head and that of my two older brothers. Then, it was February nineteenth. My sixth birthday party; you guessed it there was no cake. I cried so much, that I lost my voice. Barely a week after my oldest bother, Subomi caught measles and died two weeks later. I watched Segun cry for days, but my eyes refuse to bring out tears. I remember eating bush-meats twice during that time. Everyone was nice for some days. We weren’t surprised when the old routine came back into place after Subomi’s burial.
Well, it doesn’t really count now. We’re going home tomorrow.