My mum had come to my house very early on a Saturday morning to “talk to me”. Whenever she did that it meant I had done something she didn’t agree with. She did when I was done with my service year but I didn’t bring home a husband. She did it when I brought home a husband and he was Fulani.

“What happened to all the yoruba men in the world?”, she would ask. 

“And a muslim for that matter! Are you trying to punish me?”

It was crazy that she thought I would choose to spend the rest of my life with somebody just to punish her. That would be me punishing myself. We weren’t so close when I was growing up. That’s why she brings up this punishment talk when she can. 

I wondered what she could have heard that I did that made her leave her house this early. I mean it was just 10:35am. 

“Mummy ekaaro”

“Ma ki mi o! Don’t greet me. I’ve been calling you and it’s been going to voicemail and you’re acting like everything is fine. Why won’t you pick your mother’s call? It’s that Fulani man abi? He has turned you away from God. Because the Bible says children should honor their parents and this isn’t honor rara. This one is disrespect!”.

She dropped her bag on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen.

I just stood there rubbing my stomach. It helps calm me when I’m stressed and at the moment, I was. Why my mother thinks it’s okay for her to stress her heavily pregnant child so early in the morning, I don’t know.

I was used to my mother being the assistant to  a drama queen somewhere but this morning I was in a different place.

I was due in a few days but it just seemed like the baby was pushing something inside me. It felt like she had packed her bags and was ready to leave but it just wasn't time.

I went into the kitchen and my mum was drinking water with one hand and opening pots with the other. 

“Mummy what do you want to eat? Let me cook it for you.”

 She looked at me, looked away and continued what she was doing. 

“Okay mummy. I’m sorry but I’ve been very busy with work! I’ve had way too many meetings in the past week that I’ve barely had time to rest. Even Danjuma has been complaining about how busy I’ve been. Oya let’s go to the sitting room and talk”.

I held her hand so we could go to the sitting room and she pushed it off. She went towards the pantry and came out with a tuber of yam. Why was she acting like a jealous girlfriend? I didn’t wake up to do this. I wanted to binge watch a series and whenever Danjuma decided to come back from the gym he went to, we were going to have dinner at a fancy restaurant. I didn’t need this in my space. Not now. Not ever!

I proceeded to collect the yam from her but she wouldn’t let go. Why wouldn’t she just stop being stubborn and leave the yam alone?

I would make her meal and all would be forgotten. She just needed to let go of the yam!

“Mummy just leave this yam and let me make your food!”

“No o! I have hands. I don’t need your help”

“What do you mean you don’t need my help? You’re in my house for Christ’s sake!”

“Oh so you remember who Christ is? But your mother is...”

I didn’t let her finish the sentence. I let go of the yam and screamed.

“Mummy don’t you dare insult my faith like that! You don't live with me. You don't know what I struggle with. Don't just come here and insult me and my husband.”

She stood there shocked, hugging the yam. She didn't expect me to be this outspoken. I went on and on cos she needed to understand how serious I was. Plus I was really enjoying her facial expression until it changed. I thought it was because I threatened to keep her grandchild away from her. It wasn't.

“What?”, I asked. What was she looking at? Let's settle this matter once and for all. She needed to be looking at my face and not the ground.

“Hospital now!”, she shouted.

My water broke.