Tomike was glad she could sleep with the air conditioner on. She would have fainted in her sleep if not. The weather was hot and became even hotter as the sun came up. At about 6:30 in the morning power was interrupted and the generator was quickly put on.Tomike had forgotten what it was like, the sound of generators piercing through a noisless day. She couldn't get anymore sleep as the cool in the room quickly dissipated and the fan began blowing hot air.
She sat up on her bed as she rubbed her temples with her thumb and index finger. Her headache wouldn't go away.
She looked around the room. She hadn't had the chance of taking a proper look at it the night before as she was too tired to do so. Her head turned slowly in an anticlockwise movement as she scanned the room.
She could remember this room, it was her's for a long time. It was obviously repainted and most of what she remembered of it was gone or placed differently, but it was still her room. Well not really her room anymore, it was now occupied by someone else who unfortunately for them had to move out now she was back. A small smile appeared on Tomike's face as memories she had had in the room flooded her mind.
Tomike stood up abruptly, snapping out of her thoughts as soon as she realized there were only two bathrooms in the house, and if she didn't want to struggle to have her bath, she needed to do that early. The last thing she wanted was having to wait eternity for any of the kids that stayed with Iya Bose to be done.
Iya Bose and her kids. She still trained other people's children even at her age. There were four of them now, between the ages of ten and sixteen. In Tomike's time Iya Bose would take in nothing less than seven kids at a time. She loved children and didn't mind all the wahala that came with them.
As Tomike was about to open the door, a towel on her shoulder and her toiletry kit in hand, she hesitated.
Dayo.
She hadn't seen him yet. If she saw him at that moment she wouldn't know what to say to him. Did he miss her? Was he angry at her? Would he be cold and pretend she didn't exist?
She decided she'd just avoid him. She opened the door slightly and peeped through. No one. She stepped out of the room and quickly dashed to one of the bathrooms which was at the end of the passage way. She locked the door behind her.
She couldn't help but think of all the things Iya Bose said he did, all the times he got in trouble.
He got into several fights in school, sneaked out of the house to go for parties, had many 'girlfriends', the list was quite long. He was violent, and that was what worried Tomike the most. The rest could be blamed on youthful exuberance, Tomike herself had her fair share when she was younger. But the violence he exhibited was a little too extreme.
He had beaten a classmate so bad one time the poor boy couldn't stand without help for some weeks. His actions earned him suspension after much pleading from Iya Bose. The suspension didn't stop him though. He did it again and was then expelled.
Iya Bose says since he moved to his present school he no longer gets into fights, but deep down Tomike knew he had only gotten better at covering his tracks.
Funny how she left for the US having a regular eleven year old, and comes back four years later to meet a rebellious teenager.
She put on the tap and placed the only bucket in the bathroom underneath it. She picked up the bowl inside and poured water on her face as she began bathing.
Were his father's traits now revealing themselves as he grew older? Or was it as a result of Iya Bose's pampering.
Or perhaps it's because you were always so violent towards him. Garbage in, garbage out.
Tomike wiped her face and blinked off the water that sat on her eyelids. Where had that voice come from. It wasn't her fault how Dayo was turning out. Iya Bose spoiled him too much, his father was a violent man.
And you do nothing wrong, mother Theresa.
She was not having it. She was not going to let her subconscious blame her for something she had no buisness with.
He is your son, he is your business.
She poured water over her face again. And started sponging her body. She didn't want to come back to Nigeria because of this. Her insecurity creeped in, and she began doubting herself.
The argument in her mind had returned, the ones that happened all those years she lived in the same house with her son. There were two sides pleading their case in her head at every turn: Accept him as yours, or simply be indifferent about him, pretending he didn't exist.
She hated the fact that she was back to fighting herself because of Dayo. This is why she always stayed clear of him and his matters, for her mental peace.
She recognized she had been too hard on Dayo while he was younger, but she realized it along the line and simply left his upbringing to Iya Bose. She spoilt him and let him off easily, but it was better than turning the boy into a punching bag all day, everyday.
Your son should be your responsibility.
"Oh please!" She said out loud, trying to silence the voice.
She refused to judge herself like that. The boy had already turned out the way he was, whatever would happen would happen.
It was not her fault, period.
As she was about to leave the bathroom, she took the same precaution she did leaving her room.
As she shut her room door behind her she let out a sigh.
Enough of the madness. Iya Bose is my concern right now.
As she moisturized her body, she sent a text to Bose.
Good morning Aunty Bose. What time are we leaving for the hospital?
She dropped her phone on the bed and continued what she was doing. In less than five minutes she got a reply.
Good morning dear. We'll leave soon. At least 8 o'clock. The driver has to go pick up Babajide from the airport this afternoon, and you know how traffic is in Lagos. So please get ready, I'll let you know when I'm done.
OK aunty. I await your arrival.
I'm at home oo. I slept over here.
Oh! I had no idea. Alright then, see you in a few.
Ok dear. We'll have to make a quick stop at Temilade's place to pick her up.
Ok ma.
She checked the time. 7:15.
She quickly got dressed. She wore a gray tank top, a blue jean trouser and a black sandal. Tank top because she wouldn't let the heat in Lagos kill her.
She touched up her face with some powder and lip gloss. She wasn't going for a party afterall. She packed her crochet braids into a ponytail and then glanced at the tall mirror hanging on the room door.
As she stared in the mirror, she couldn't help but feel proud of herself. She made her hair herself and it turned out great. She picked up her bag, sprayed some perfume and she was out the door.
Wahala- problem.
**********
I've been away a while, but I'm here now 😁. Tomike is back! Who is excited for the reunion between Dayo and his mother? I can't wait to introduce him to y'all. Don't forget to vote, comment and share. Adios! 😘
Xoxo 💕
Val💕💕
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General FictionTomike is a young Nigerian programmer living in Boston, trying to pave a way for herself far away from her home country. She seems to have it going all good for her, but her past won't let her be. Is she ready to stop running and finally face her mu...