Hard Man

30

"You're distracted when she's gone; you're distracted when she's here. What's the solution now?"
—MG Damola

Des was heating food for her mother the following day when she heard slight movements outside the door. Thinking her mother was up, she peeked through the open kitchen door and instead saw Mrs Funsho waddling into the living room. Throughout yesterday, the woman slept, so Des could not speak to her. Now, Des left her task and walked into the living room, noticing the limp in Mrs. Funsho's walk.

"Mrs. Funsho."

The woman jumped and turned to see Des, a hand over her chest. "Chioma, you scared me."

"I'm sorry." Des put her arms around Mrs. Funsho. "I heard what happened to you," she said. "How do you feel?"

There was fatigue in Mrs. Funsho's eyes, and Des' heart lurched with guilt. The woman must be doing a lot of work, and on top of that, some unfortunate idiot still beat her up and robbed her. "I'm so sorry, ma. I'm so sorry."

"Chioma..." Mrs Funsho held Des' arms. "It is not—"

"This woman!" They both turned to see Mrs.Ibe walk out of her room. Des' guilt slightly subsided to see her mother still hearty this morning, but it returned in the next second, worse than before. "You're up again this morning. Please go inside and rest," Mrs. Ibe said with a playful frown directed at Mrs. Funsho.

"I'm tired of resting," Mrs. Funsho said. "I—"

"You haven't rested, so how can you be tired?" Mrs. Ibe interrupted. "Go inside, jor. I can take care of myself."

"She's right," Des agreed. She helped Mrs. Funsho up. "Let me take you inside."

"No." Mrs. Ibe shook her head and lovingly pulled Mrs. Funsho into her arms. "Let me do it. It's my turn to help her."

Des watched the two women go, her heart swelling with love for them. Her wonderful trance was broken by voices outside, and she peeked through the curtains to see the soldiers alert and patrolling the perimeters again. Yesterday, after stressing over accommodating them, she asked them if it was okay to get them hotel rooms to lay for the night. The men vehemently refused. At their staunch refusal, she had no choice but to call the General, who reluctantly picked up after several calls. She knew he was reluctant because he could hardly wait to get off the phone.

She told him how the soldiers were refusing hotel rooms, and he asked why they would need them.

"We only have three rooms in the house. My mum is in one, Mrs. Funsho in the other, and I occupy the third. It's nighttime, they need to sleep," she said.

"No, they don't," he snapped back. "They're on duty."

"But I—"

"Let me worry about my men," he interrupted, irritation in his voice. "They're self-sufficient and will take care of themselves. Any more questions?" Even before she could say no, he hung up the phone.

Staring outside the window at them now, she wondered how they managed through the night and whether they felt good this morning. "Won't you prepare food for your soldiers outside?" She heard her mother's voice and turned to face her.

"I was just thinking about that," she said. "And what about you? Won't you cook for your daughter? It's been a while since you did that o."

"True." Mrs. Ibe laughed. "I don't know if I remember how to do it anymore, but come, let's try." They walked into the kitchen. Des knew she wouldn't care how the food tasted; she would eat it in love as long as her mother cooked it.

***

"So what do we know?" MG Damola asked, suppressing a yawn. He and the General had been out until almost midnight yesterday, and now it's barely nine am, and they're up, ready to fight again.