Yellow Tales of a Nigerian Housemaid (completed)

Chapter Twenty Eight

I quickly unlocked the gate and calmly opened it. There she stood, her eyes as angry like I've never seen.

She was standing there, all alone!
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Her purse was tucked underneath her armpit and she held a customised leather from a popular restaurant in her right hand.

"Good afternoon aunty" I muttered in fear.

No response.

She fixated her eyes on mine and every fiber in me shook.

"I guess you've been sleeping!" I heard a voice say.

I turned to her right and saw her husband walking over to us. He was all smiling and for a good moment, my heart relaxed.

I respectfully stepped aside to let my aunt in.

"Good afternoon uncle" I greeted and he smiled the more.

"It's good evening Nneogo. It's already 5pm" He said laughing.

My aunt shot me a deadly look and angrily walked in. Her husband followed suit, slapping my arm playfully and trying to hit up a conversation with my aunt.
I gently locked the gate and hurried inside.

What happened to the car?

I stepped into Mama's room and left the door a bit open. I wanted to hear whatsoever they might discuss. I just wanted to know if she found out I entered her room. My heart raced at each word I heard, and every time I heard her voice and footsteps.

So far, so good! Thank goodness!

I spread my mat and laid on it. I closed my eyes and tried to think of a beautiful time I've ever lived. I then remembered my uncle's wedding I was fortunate to attend in Portharcourt. I smiled as memories began to flow in, beautiful memories.

I'd suddenly become an object of interest as everyone wanted to see the young girl whose mum had died. They were surprised at how grown I was and joked about my pale look. They openly attributed it to poor breastfeeding and urged me to eat more!

I smiled at such cruel joke but still nodded at them in appreciation.

My heart raced off to my village. I remembered my siblings, cousins, the plays and jokes we'd crack while sitting round the fire.

Our usual 'swell' plays

Our 'Uga' play

Our daily skipping 

Our 'nchoro' play.

Our famous Dodge ball.

And the Ludo games. I knew I'd forgotten many.

The boys will play police and thief. Then would quarrel and fight which normally leads to the end of their fun play. Whatsoever causes their quarrels, I'm yet to understand it.

Most times they'd play football. We loved playing with them, and would always insist to join. But after several intentional injuries on us by them, we will voluntarily withdraw from the game to their satisfaction.

To make us more angry, they would mess up our perfectly drawn 'swell' box while running around their supposed pitch.

As I remembered all these, my lips curved into a deeper smile and I knew I missed home.

A bang on the gate jerked me up. I raced to the gate to unlock it. I overheard Mama talking, her voice very low and I assumed it was one of her lovers.

I opened the gate, stepped aside to let her in.

"Good evening Mama" I greeted as she walked past. She waved her right hand in response. I gently closed the gate, inserted the padlock and locked it.