Ill at ease. That was how I felt when I got out of the cab with my son Chisom. My father's compound stared at me from the other side of the road. My heart was heavy, beating fast like I had run a marathon. I had my right hand tightened to the grip of my little boy Chisom. He held tight to his superhero action figure in his right hand, and his eyes locked on me with questions that asked where we were headed.
I smiled at him. He was a three-year-old boy but with the inquisitiveness of an eight-year-old. A few months younger than when I had last stepped foot into Papa's compound after I left for the mandatory NYSC. Chisom barely talked much but you could see the question in his eyes from the way he looked at you.
I adjusted my grip on the heavy but small suitcase in my other hand and looked across to Papa's compound nestled on the other side of the road. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, then I crossed over to the other side with Chisom still holding tight to me.
The atmosphere in Papa's compound was quieter, but the scenery was the same. There was no radio playing from the kitchen, no laughter of her younger cousins. Just the far hum of a generator noise emanating from the generator house and the rustling of the branches of the ube (pear) tree in the middle of the compound.
The front door creaked open before I could knock on it. It was Ebuka, my younger brother. He was dressed like he was stepping out. He smelled like Papa. And looked much older. I could tell he had smeared Papa's cologne again without Papa's approval. Ify was so typical of him.
"Ada?" He called with so much surprise in his eyes and a happy grin on his face. Not until his eyes dropped to Chisom. His smile died.
I nodded. "Ebuka."
Like a guy who had seen a ghost, shocked, confused but at the same time happy to me. He rushed forward and hugged me.
"You didn't inform anyone you were coming home." He asked, grabbing my bag and leading us into the house. The house smelled of Mama'sEgusi (melon) soup. He looked down at Chisom. "Is that...."
"Ebuka, meet Chisom," I said to him. To Chisom, who already had his eyes stuck on Ebuka, I said, "Meet your uncle, Ebuka."
"Is he really yours?" Ebuka asked.
I nodded.
"He's a fine boy. With eyes that ask a lot of questions." He dropped my bags and bent over to Chisom. "Don't worry, I'll answer all your questions."
I smiled. Relieved that Ebuka wasn't judging me anymore. At least it would be easier to survive being home with one person not judging my reckless past.
Just then Mama walked into the room with a stained apron and parted lips. For a moment, she stood by the door watching me and Chisom like someone who had just seen a ghost.
I quickly knelt. “Mama, I'm sorry I...."
But before I could finish Mama walked over to me and dragged me up. Then she hugged me in a fierce but long and wordless hug. She pulled back and picked Chisom from the floor.
“He’s handsome,” she said.
I allowed the tears to roll down my eyes. I was relieved that Mama wasn't judging me, too. "I'm sorry. I should have come home earlier and not kept him away. I just didn’t know if I’d be welcomed.”
Mama wiped my eyes quickly and motioned toward the hallway that led to the back of the house. “Go, your father is outside. Sitting where he always sits.” Then she handed Chisom over to me.
I nodded. It was the dreaded hour. My legs felt feeble. My breath increased. But Mama pushed me on.
I stepped outside, into the backyard. The orange tree was still there, though smaller than memory. Near it, sitting on a wooden bench carved by my grandfather was Papa. His eyes were glued to an old newspaper with his wrapper tied loosely around his waist. His grey hair looked like ash in the fading sun.
He looked up as he saw me approaching. I watched as his eyes darted from me to Chisom. Then back to me. He didn't have any smile on his face.
I didn't stop nor did I flinch. I just held onto Chisom and steadied my steps until I got to him. Then I dropped to my knees and greeted. “Good evening, Daddy.”
He only stared at me and said nothing.
There was silence. I looked at Chisom. He still held tight to his action figure and eyes locked into Papa's face. It had questions in it, too.
“I'm sorry I had to return this way, Papa. I didn't mean for things to go this way. It wasn’t planned.” I pulled Chisom gently to my side. “I wish it was possible to come with his father. But he left when he found out I was pregnant. He said his people don’t accept marrying people from our side. I never believed it until he stopped answering my calls. I was already three months gone.”
I had tears on my face again. This time, Chisom reached out his hands to my eyes and wiped them. Then he returned his gaze to Papa. There was silence.
“You had trust in me, but I failed you. I shamed you. I left with an NYSC uniform and I came back… with Chisom. But please, don't punish him for my sins. He’s just a boy. A good one. I thought about not coming back. But Mama said the truth was already known. And I... I couldn’t keep running.””
Papa still didn't reply. He looked from Chisom to his newspaper from time to time.
Suddenly, papa folded his newspaper slowly, then adjusted. “Sit,” he said.
I hesitated but later adhered. I sat down and placed Chisom on my lap. Then came a loud silence that stretched between us.
He looked at Chisom. “What’s your name, young man?”
“Chi-som,”
Papa smiled. He picked him up.
“You know what that means?” Papa asked.
Chisom shook his head in ignorance.
“It means ‘God is with you.’"
Chisom smiled. My eyes welled up again.
I sat there watching them go back and forth. Gradually, Papa's face was softening.
“He is not a shame,” Papa finally said to me with his voice low. “He is a blessing from God. It would be easy to cancel you, but this child, his eyes, is filled with so much innocence. It's tough to reject those cute eyes. He is not the mistake. You made a mistake."
I nodded, tears sliding freely now.
“Honestly, I was angry. But till when? I am not proud of how things went at the final stage of your education. But I’m proud you came back. His father might have rejected you. But we don't reject our own here." He looked at Chisom. "It's now up to you to make up for the past. Not just for you, but for the little boy here."
"Welcome home. Now allow me to bond with my grandson. I can't tell from his eyes that he has so many questions that need answers.”
I smiled. Rubbed Chisom's head. He was still seated comfortably on Papa's lap with his head on his chest.
I stood up and walked to the door that led into the house. Then I turned and took one last look at them. They looked at peace with each other.
I smiled again.
Finally, I was at ease.
