WAZOBIA: A Tale of Two worlds

Not a criminal

I'd meet Ahunwanyi tomorrow. She would break everything down to me fully once I'd arrived at her place. It was six o'clock and I honestly didn't even remember what I'd been doing since, because I'd left early.

I parked up at the house and went in. Soup smells were dancing in and out if the kitchen. I went in to meet my mother.

"Maaa- ma" I whined like a stubborn child.

"Yessss, nkem what is it?" She played along, a smile on her face.

"I've not eaten since morning oh"

"Is that so?" She chuckled, lifting the kettle from the firewood.

We had a stove in the kitchen. Two in fact. But my mom would never use them, only when Chy Chy was around because Chy Chy would force her. She said she didn't like always conforming to all of these 'western technologies' and that food tasted better when it was cooked locally, which is true. It was just more stressful.

"Hold on, let me make the fufu,"

A knock on the door.

Mama dropped the kettle and wanted to attend to it when Kachi's voice rang from upstairs;

"I'll get it oh!"

Probably one of his friends coming over or such.

We both waited to hear the voice of the visitor. Nothing came.

"Simbi...it's for you" I heard my brother.

I looked at mama.
"who could be looking for me here?" I said, although I could list a number of possibilities.

Nonso entered the backyard from the main kitchen and looked at me sternly.

"A white man."

Jesus. Who could it be? No. Not now. I thought Sarah said-

My heart began to beat rapidly.

"What's wrong?" My mother held my hand.

It took me a while to get myself, "n... nothing mum, I'll just answer."

I got up from the overturned bucket I was sitting in and proceeded to the front of the house.
I let out a wierd groan when I approached the door and took a very deep breath.

My mom came in and stood a metre away from me, holding the wall. I looked at her nervously and had a glimpse of what felt like assurance in her eyes.

I took another deep breath and creaked the door open nervously.

*. *. *

"Hi," Adams stood straight, hands in his pockets.

He looked very casual for someone who was about to confiscate me. Wearing a flayed, green shirt and distressed jeans with sneakers on his feet.

I let him in without a word and led him to the couch, where he sat comfortably.

My mother retied her wrappa, searching this man with very intent eyes.