Daffodil Sprouts🌼

Ch. 4 ' Bye, Nigeria.

"Three boxes, Sikirah. Three big boxes; that's what Grandma packed. Even when it was Felicie and I leaving, we had only two boxes to carry."

Sikirah laughs, covering her mouth so the rice she has just spooned into it doesn't fall out.

"And I didn't want her to pack for me o. She insisted."

"Only God knows what she packed."

I eye Sikirah playfully. "Oh. You're saying that because you haven't seen my room. It's e, m, p, t, y. Empty."

I'm close, but not exaggerating. Grandma packed everything belonging to me. If it was possible to pack my whole room in a box, I'm sure Grandma would've done that.

"Ahnahn, aren't you coming back?" Sikirah asks, pointing to the mug near me.

I gently push it to her side of the dining table. "She expects me to be carrying the load up and down."

"Felicie nko? Isn't she coming?"

I heave at the mention of Felicie. "No."

Sikirah halts the water she's drinking, looking up with round eyes. "Mad o*."

I shrug.

"That's strange. You two are always together," she says, stressing 'always'.

I roll my eyes. We live in the same estate, and her house is a stone's throw from mine. We attend the same school, same class. How can't we be always together?

"I felt her escorting you was certain."

"We just don't want to," my voice breaks, "end up crying at the airport."
Thereby embarrassing each other.

I use the end of my sleeve to rub off the teardrops that fall on my cheeks. Guess tears are remaining in my eyes even though I cried all night. It isn't just about Felicie. I'm leaving the place and the people I've known for eight years. Still here, I've already started to miss them, not knowing how I'll fare in Mom's place.

Sikirah stares at me in a mocking gesture.

"What? Leave me alone."

She chuckles. "Who is holding you? If you went to bathe as soon as you finished eating, you would be done by now. I guess you're fine wasting your own time."

My already puffed mouth puffs up the more. "What kind of person are you, Sikirah? I'm choosing to spend my last moments here with you, yet you're being so unappreciat-"

"Daddy will show now. Stay there."

My face pales. Dad left two days after he arrived, and I haven't heard from him since. It has only been three weeks, but that wouldn't stop him from paying another surprising and unwanted visit.

I stand up and push the chair in with unnecessary force while maintaining an icy glare at Sikirah.

When I walk away, it's not without mumbling, "Some people need to stop playing rough play."

Her laughter echoes through the house.

* * * * *

I subconsciously rub my fingers against each other, my heartbeat increasing every mile we're closer to the airport.

"How long does it take to get to New York from Ni- Lagos?"
Asked with the hope that I don't die of fright before the plane lands.

"How would I know," Grandma says from the front seat.

I purse my lips. "That's why the question was directed to Grandpa."

"I don't know, my dear."

"You should know little things like that, Grandpa."