I remember the day
mama Sykik found a love letter in my closet.
Back in the days,
love letters where the “ish”, it was the means through which boys wooed babes.
I have mentioned in some earlier posts
that I was a late bloomer so I didn’t get boys paying attention to me till my
undergrad years........there was the random boy, here and there but Mama Sykik
played her “breathing down my back” role so well and co-opted my brothers into
saving their sister’s purity till
marriage.
There was this boy
who had taken a big brother/boyfriend role over me in school, come to think of
it he never toasted me sha. The boy had to change schools in our second year
and so we were separated and there were no GSM phones then. It was a tough time
for me, I felt lost and so when I got a letter from this bobo (he sent it
through a student who had visited his school). I read the letter every day and mumuishly took the letter with me home
during the holidays....somehow Mama Sykik poke nosed through my stuff and read
the letter, this was a letter I kept well folded inside my bible (I had to keep
the letter holy abi nau). Mama Sykik doesn’t understand that there is anything
called boundaries or personal space. After this incident, I learnt the trick of
Eneke the bird that “since men have learned to shoot without
missing, he has learned to fly without perching." I learnt to keep
my privacy from her prying eyes.
I got home from my
Mum’s store that day and met Mama Sykik at the door, brandishing my love letter
(she doesn’t waste time attacking) immediately I saw the letter, I died and
travelled to heaven..........it was easier facing God than Mama Sykik, I swear.
She was gangster like that.....all I heard again was
Mama Sykik: Sykik am
I not talking to you
Sykik: Ma, what did
you say (My heart was skipping and I still couldn’t make sense of what she
was saying)
Mama Sykik: are you
listening to me at all, since you are deaf, let me explain myself better
Mama Sykik
delivered one of those her “abara” slap, “abara”- is a back slap that brings
you out of a coma. It works; ask any Nigerian Yoruba girl who grew up in the
80s and 90s. That “abara” brought me back from my coma and I can’t remember
what my explanation was, but I must have confessed to sins committed and uncommitted.
I was made to promise to break up with this bobo and cease all form of
communication. After the beating and threats of that day, I am sure I never
spoke to any man except my brothers for weeks.
How do you break up
with someone who never toasted you sef? I told bobo about the incident and we
just remained discreet until Mama Sykik caught us again and this time around
she drafted Papa Sykik to cast the “spell of boyfriend” from my life.
I love Mama Sykik
and wouldn’t trade her for anything, though
back in the days I had no “relationship” with her because I felt her parenting
methods were cruel but I won’t be half of who I am today without that strict grooming.
Papa Sykik blended her parenting skills with his modern methods which she felt
was “ajebutterish” but see me today, I turned out right even if I have to say
so myself.
Will I trade my
growing up years for
anything......NO......will I train my child(ren) same way......not really......but
I am certainly going to do some “abara” giving or how else will they know I am
a Yoruba mummy...lol....and God loves a cheerful giver :)