Like every growing young adult, I had always thought that moving into my apartment would mean freedom. A life with only your rules and lived on your terms. That was what our juvenile delinquency made us believe. Well, the first few weeks of moving into my apartment in Lagos were peaceful, but that peace was a bit short-lived as I began to miss being around the people I loved.
I knew myself to be an introvert who loved her moments of solitude a lot. But somehow, everything just felt different like I didn't belong to the new neighbourhood. I tried to distract my mind by bringing work home, but with time, the repercussions of not getting enough rest began to tell on me. I would stare at my cream-painted wall on days I was home and alone, with the deafening silence trying to swallow me.
I tried mingling with the neighbours and people in my neighbourhood, forcing myself to return greetings and stay out in shops I go to buy little stuff for myself. But it wasn't long till I got tired of them. Don't blame me, I just wasn't comfortable being around them.
Then, one hot Saturday evening, when the cloud was pocketing the sun. I sat on my balcony, taking in the cool evening breeze, when I noticed a woman standing on the balcony just opposite mine, her bright floral dress almost glowing under the dying sun. She waved and smiled at me so heartily, revealing a dentition that felt like it was chiselled by the best surgeon. Trust me when I say it was the most beautiful smile I've seen in a while.
I waved back, trying so hard to look friendly.
"Good evening, ma'am", I greeted with a smile and a bit of surprise on my face.
"I see you're new here?" she asked, her smile widening.
I nodded "Yes, ma'am", I replied.
She nodded while she gazed at me. It felt awkward at first but then I noticed something in her gaze that I couldn't explain. It felt warm and comforting. Like she could feel what I felt, that feeling of being an alien in a new world. And somehow, it made me feel relaxed.
"Welcome to the neighbourhood! They call me Mama Chinedu."
"Zerah," I replied.
I tried not to keep up the conversation, and I guess she noticed, too,o as she didn't push further. She instead retired Into her apartment. I stood there for a few more minutes before retiring to mine.
A few days later, I was at the popular Balogun market after a busy day at work trying to get some foodstuffs. There was tiredness written all over my face but I kept pushing myself, dragging my feet around the market, haggling prices sluggishly. I needed to restock my house as I was out of foodstuffs at home.
I was already done buying all I needed and heading to catch a bus when a car parked beside me and honked. I ignored it, I wasn't in the mood for any wooing from the opposite gender. I just needed to get home and have a rest. But the honking was persistent. I quickly turned to tell whoever it was off to see Mama Chinedu waving from the car and smiling at me.
"Zerah right?" She asked.
"Yes ma'am. Good evening, ma'am," I greeted weakly.
"Heading home?"
"Yes," I mumbled.
"Come in, let me drop you", she offered, pushing the passenger's door open from the driver's seat.
Rejecting such an offer at that point wouldn't mean well for me as my legs were already hurting. I quickly put my grocery bags in the trunk she had popped open and jumped into the front passenger's seat. The cool air from the AC soothed my skin. It felt so relaxing that I felt like dozing off.
"You look tired. You must be coming from work?" She asked, looking over to me as she zoomed off.
I stared at her. "Yes, ma'am", I replied.
"You look tired. Couldn't it have waited till tomorrow?" She asked with concern in her voice.
"I wish it could but that would mean going to bed hungry." I paused. "Still feels like I'll go to bed hungry", I added.
She chuckled,
We got to an intersection, and Mama Chinedu took an unfamiliar route. I looked at her with questions in my eyes.
"It's a shortcut my husband showed me recently"
I nodded and rested my head on the headrest. I was too tired to speak.
"So why will you go to bed hungry?" She continued our conversation.
I smiled, "I'm just too tired to cook, ma'am. Maybe I'll just munch on some snacks".
"You young people," she laughed.
We got home and I thanked and bid Mama Chinedu goodnight. I got into my apartment, and without unpacking all I bought, I slumped into the couch. Before I knew it, I dozed off.
I was woken by the sound of a knock on my door. I dragged myself to the door and opened it. On the other side was Mama Chinedu with a plate of food.
"I guess you won't go to bed hungry again,n," she said,d, smiling.
"But ma'am you..."
"Uh uh, don't say no. Just take it," she insisted,d giving a playful mean look.
Without hesitation, I took the plate from her. "Thank you, ma'am".
"Chinedu will pick up the plates tomorrow" She smiled heartily and walked back to her house.
And that kind gesture was the beginning of a mother-daughter relationship for me and Mama Chinedu. She made sure to check up on me, sending me fruits and food on days she felt I was tired from work and couldn't cook. And I dare not reject it as she wouldn't like it.
She became a mother I didn't have in Lagos, one I could talk to whenever I needed a shoulder to lean on. To me, she didn't just bring me food, she brought me a sense of belonging. A feeling I missed from the onset.
