ENO - CHRONICLE OF THE AFRICAN MAID.

“Eno! Eno!! Eno!!!” Young David screamed. “Why is my food not ready”? 

I came out of the bathroom while having my bathe. I was using the detergent I salvaged washing his clothes from dusk till dawn of the previous day and the lather was still over my body. I grabbed my patched piece of ankara fabrics I use as my towel to quickly cover my aging body. There was really nothing to be ashamed of having lived the better part of my fleeting life.

I missed my step as I paced down the stairs to meet him in the living room downstairs.

“Yes oga” my voice shook from the excruciating pain I felt, kneeling before him.

“Are you deaf? You this good-for-nothing scanty old fool”

Before I could say anything, he replied in an even harsher tone.

“I’ll be leaving for the office in 10 minutes” the arrogant bank manager said “and de no born you well if my food never ready”.

I left for the kitchen limping from my sprained ankle while coming down the stairs. Like I knew what was coming I’d already fixed his breakfast and had it packed – Bread, baked beans, fried eggs and Mango juice. I took it straight to his car and kept it on the foot mat of the owner’s corner.

Do I really deserve this? I thought for a second. It’s been 32 years still my heart can’t let go. I blamed myself for what happened many years ago. "I should never have left, I really shouldn’t have" nodding my head in regret.

The lather on my body had already dried up by the time I was done from the kitchen. Had to do the dishes and boil beans with the pressure pot using low heat, against dinner. Needed to buy time so I could rinse my body or even have my bath afresh when Young David had gone. All through yesterday, I worked all day that I barely had time to take my bath. My back was aching really bad. I hoped I could steal a few minutes to see a doctor while oga was away.

“Eno! Eno!! Eno!!!” Young David screamed.

I’d gotten use to his shouting already. I went to him and told him the food was in his car already. He walked passed without saying any other word.

Hours later, I got a call from Young David to prepare the guest rooms and that I should fix eba and ogbono soup with goat meat as against the beans. He said we’ll be having 3 guests over for the New Year celebration. I quickly went to get a few things from the market at the end of the street. This would be the first guests on a New Year eve in my 5 years of stay.

While setting the table having fixed dinner, I replayed that fateful day my baby was taken from me. I was only 17 years old . I cried my eyes out, especially because my baby was barely a year old. I kept my distance from them and vowed never to come close until the shocking news about my son’s alleged demise. The sharp hunk from Young David’s car broke my thoughts. It was just about time when I had gotten the table set. I went upstairs to look a bit presentable. I wouldn’t want oga’s guest thinking low of him when they see me I muttered.

My heart skipped when I saw the guests. With my face down, the unfathomable thought rang through my head…What if they find out? I stifled a deep sigh of relief as the guests headed straight to the dining table while I took their bags into the rooms. I wanted to escape but how could I pull this? I wasn’t expecting this, not this soon. It was young David’s dad, mom and his youngest sister, Dami. 

“Eno are you foolish or hadicapped? Come here and clean this water that mama spilled”.

Trying to avoid eye contact, I proceeded to wipe the puddle of water that was steadily soaking the table cloth. I risked a peek at mama’s wrinkled face, how can she be so docile after living a lie all these years?

“Will you get your sluggish-wrinkled-stinking silly self from here” Young David yelled.

Papa jerked in surprise at those foul words. I spun around to escape from their midst when the napkin mistakenly pulled one of the glass cups.

Dami sitting next to mama, quickly reach out to the falling glass cup as I did same in reflex. I quickly turned my face away knowing she had seen me properly. 

“Sister Bola!!!” Dami exclaimed, calling me by my first name. All eyes focused on me.

Young David was perplexed asking what was going on. Papa coughed repeatedly and reached out for his glass of water.

“Who is Sister Bola?" Confused Young David asked. "Are you referring to Eno my maid?”

“Hush” papa’s deep voice spoke calmly as ever. I knew this was the end of the road for the poor lad.

I spoke firmly for the first time to Young David,

"I am not Eno, I am Bola your biological mother".

On hearing my testimony, proud Young David broke into tears and their minds sagged.