I walked into my mom's room as usual knowing the door has always been left open and the first sight that caught my attention was my mom's body lying on the bare floor. I was barely ten years of age with my younger sister four years younger than me. My older brothers were away to different schools and my dad equally was out of town. It was late already and only a lantern illuminated the house casting some lights on the rooms. We had only eaten dinner some minutes earlier and my mom had retired to her room as usual. For whatever reason, even if I didn't know the weight of what was happening, I was not comfortable seeing my mom on the floor, lying supine and not moving or reacting.
I walked up to my mom and tapped her for a wake which I assumed she was sleeping but got no response. My heart picked up a racing momentum and I called out to my sister who came into the room bearing the lantern from the sitting room. I could see my mom's face more clearly then, she looked expressionless and beautiful as usual. Still confused, I opened my mom's eyelids with two of my fingers and the pupils only stared back at me. I withdrew my hands and wondered what next to do only for my sister's words to interrupt my thoughts.
"Why is mommy not talking?" My younger sister asked innocently, bearing up the lantern for more illuminations.
I looked at her for a moment, unsure of what to tell her since I was equally confused. "I don't know, I'm trying to find out," I replied as calmly as I could muster. I had heard of deaths but never expected to witness one at such an age and especially, that of a close relative. I knew my sister was naive and would probably not understand what was going on. I lifted my mom's arm that lay by her side and it aligned with gravity by falling as quickly as it was released. I feared something was wrong at that moment. I stretched forth my hands and opened her mouth to see if anything was there. I was helpless as much as I was hopeless and doing anything was something for me. I noticed my sister's eyes darting between my mom and me, perhaps expecting me to perform a miracle to wake our mother.
"Wait for me with Mom, let me go and get help," I said and at that point, my sister burst into tears, wailing at the top of her voice. I was much more destabilized by her outburst. I knew she suspected something was wrong when I told her I wanted to get help. "I won't take long," I said and walked up to where she squatted beside Mom, opposite me. I patted her on the shoulder and lazily navigated my way out of the house. Thankfully, the moon illuminated the sky, dispersing the thick darkness outside for me to find my way easily. I stepped out of the house and stood for a brief moment within the compound, the chill of the night embracing my every being.
I walked around my neighborhood in fear, partly from what I had just experienced and not the fears that lurked in walking about alone at night. I walked up to a close neighbor's house, 'Mummy Busayo' as we fondly called and my weak hands knocked on the gate hesitantly. After knocking a few more times, I turned towards the direction of my house, hastily lifting my steps with the hope that my mom would have awoken. I burst into the compound as though I was chased by a masquerade and ran straight to my mom's room, navigating the sitting room expertly. There disappointedly, my mom lay still on the bare floor. I could not bear it any longer, the tears I had struggled to keep back began to flow freely. My younger sister sat beside me faithfully as I instructed, she ran her tiny fingers through our mom's arms. When my sister noticed my tears with the occasional sniffs, she burst into yet another wail and we both shrugged our mom violently in an attempt to wake her up.
My mom's arms lifted and grabbed both my sister and me in her arms as she sat up from where she lay. We rushed into her arms like chicks to a mother hen and held tightly to her. At that instance, I didn't care if she was a ghost, I was glad mom had woken up. I felt Mom's hands tighten around me as she hugged us. "Why didn't you call for help?" She asked chuckling. "I was only pranking you, I'm sorry." My mother said. Deep within me, I knew she pulled our legs to see our reactions but I knew there was more to her action. We lived in a polygamous family and oftentimes, we were victims of beatings and harsh experiences of which my mom was not exempted and took the hit mostly.
I refused to let go of her hug despite the prank. I spent the night in her room, determined not to stay away from her.