Read The Adeshina Family: Lola's POV

 

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Friday, December 27, 2019

9:00 pm

Lying in bed, I watched as Aunty Lotachi got Amanda ready for bed. 

“Marianne, get me the pink pyjamas, the Barbie one.” Aunty Lotachi called out, her voice soft but firm.

“Yes, mummy,” Marianne answered and rushed to fetch the cloth from their bag that was safely tucked inside the wardrobe.

In my grandparents' house, they had their lights out by nine. This means before then, everybody must be in their rooms. 

It had been a dreadful day, the kind you wish you could erase from memory forever. 

As I lay there, I couldn't help but replay the events from lunch in my mind.

I didn't wear anything over my head when it was lunchtime and I regretted it. 

Not only did I get comments about my hair, but I also got different suggestions on what and what not to use.

“I know someone that had lice and it came back even after shaving her head. She's now permanently on low cut.” Aunty Victoria, my uncle Niyi's pregnant wife said with disdain.

“I hear it's contagious. Hope you are not sharing comb with anyone. And try not to get too close to the kids, one of them can catch it.” Aunty Tomi added, her nose scrunched up in disapproval.

This was the one thing Aunty Victoria and Aunty Tomi had agreed on all day. 

They had this rivalry between them that I didn't understand.

“So is that why you didn't bother to greet me today? Because of how ugly you're looking? You are such a spoiled brat!” Big mummy scolded, her face set in a deep frown.

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Anita spoke first.

“And imagine mum, I was also just concerned about her and asked politely but you need to see the terrible look she gave me and she even made Auntie Ibukun scold me.” 

Anita said with the most pitiful look ever. 

That witch!

I froze, disbelief washing over me. How could she twist things so easily? I looked towards Aunty Ibukun praying for some kind of justice. Our eyes met and she understood the question in my eyes, so she spoke,

“But Anita, you were not…”

“That's enough, Ibukun. We all know that Omolola can do no wrong in your eyes.” Big mummy answered, silencing her, before turning to me and pointing an accusing finger.

“And you, I have warned you several times that Anita is not your mate. Just because she happens to be so tolerant of your insolence doesn't mean I will continue to allow it. The next time you are rude to Anita, I will slap that rudeness out of you. You hear?”

My head dropped, and I blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears at bay. I nodded but my throat was too tight to speak.

“But aunty mi…” Aunty Ibukun was saying and this time, Granny interrupted.

“Ibukun! Are you trying to encourage her bad behaviour? Let the adults correct her. It is said that charity begins at home. If her mother cannot train her properly, the rest of us should be able to.”

I noticed that my mum looked livid and dad was trying to pacify her so she wouldn't speak out of anger.

“I didn't expect this from you, Omolola, I thought you were better than that. I'm highly disappointed in you.” Uncle Damilare said, shaking his head disapprovingly. 

Just then, everyone else began to express their disappointment and I could feel my self-worth crumble as my heartbeat palpitated. 

It was like the whole world was against me except my parents, Aunty Ibukun and Aunty Lotachi who gave me an apologetic look.

I could see Anita snickering with every negative comment I got. Everybody's attention was on me and I wanted to shrink and disappear forever. 

My mum couldn't keep quiet again and tried to salvage the situation by saying, “I think we should have heard what Ibukun had to say, it's not fair to judge from one point of view, and about her hair, it's not her fault. I was the one who made the mistake of taking her to a new salon and you know how these salons are,”

But nobody paid attention to her, they kept making comments about my hair and behaviour.

Grandpa must have noticed how uncomfortable I was because he finally shut the discussion down.

“Did you all come here to scold Omolola or to spend quality time as a family? Why are you adults behaving like children? Leave the poor girl alone!”

He roared, and the table went quiet immediately. Then, as if on cue, everyone, except Anita and big mummy said, “Sorry Lola.”

After that, the conversation shifted to other things, but the damage had already been done. I've never felt so small in my life and only my mum and aunty Ibukun noticed.

My mum kept glancing at me as I pushed my food around. I didn't have the appetite again and I so badly wished I could leave but you weren't allowed to leave until everyone was done.

Once lunch was over, I marched straight to the girls' room—willing the tears not to fall—where I remained till now. I didn't even go down for dinner, even though my favourite meal was being served tonight—semo and egusi soup—I pretended to be asleep when anyone, including Aunty Ibukun, came to check on me. Even though I had been crying.

“Why is Lola sleeping so much? Someone should go and wake her up.” I heard granny say and my heart began to beat fast.

I didn't want anyone to come and wake me up, as a matter of fact, I didn't want to see anyone.

“Actually ma, she mentioned she was having cramps earlier in the day, I think that's why she is resting.” My mum lied.

“Oh. No wonder she was so cold at lunch. Sarah, go and get the painkillers and—”

“She doesn't like taking painkillers, ma. You know how these kids are these days. She claims it's not healthy to take painkillers for periods. I don't know where they learned that from.” My mum interjected as she chuckled nervously and I almost burst into laughter at my mum's attempt of a lie.

“You are the one spoiling this girl, Abike. How will you allow your daughter to dictate what she wants to you? Is that how you were raised?” Granny scolded.

There was silence for a while and I thought Granny would barge in at any moment, so I tried to look as sick as possible, but just then, I heard Aunty Lotachi who was a pharmacist, talk.

“Actually ma'am, Lola is correct. I shouldn't be saying this, but those painkillers really do not give full healing. They only numb the nervous system, making it believe the pain isn't there again but it is. So it's not advisable to take painkillers for something as constant as period.”

That seemed to convince Granny as I didn't hear anything from her again after that.

I didn't know if Aunty Lotachi really meant what she said or if she was just saying that to support my mum, either way, I was grateful and finally let out the breath I didn't know I’d been holding. 

But what Mum said wasn't entirely a lie, I really didn't feel comfortable taking painkillers while on my period.

I opened my eyes with a sigh, snapping back to the present. Aunty Lotachi was done getting her girls prepared for bed and was now tucking them in. 

I don't care what Granny said, Aunty Lotachi was not only a good person, but also a great mum. I wished Granny would stop being blinded by her tribalism and embrace her. I sometimes wonder why Granny still had the mentality she had. She was educated and believed in the modern world, so why does she still hold on to tribalism?

The more I thought about it, the more I got confused. 

Suddenly, the room door opened slightly and my mother poked her head in. She looked relieved to see Aunty Lotachi and smiled at me when she saw that my eyes were open. Then, she stepped in and I saw she was holding a covered dish. 

She walked towards me, while Aunty Lotachi stifled a giggle.

She took a sit on my bed and placed a tender hand on my face. 

“Oko mi,” ‘my dear’ “How are you feeling?”

I shrugged and she caressed my cheek, the sadness visible in her eyes.

She opened the plate and the aroma of egusi soup filled my nose, just as my stomach grumbled simultaneously. I cringed at the sound of my stomach giving away how hungry I was.

My mother smiled again and whispered, “I had to beg Mr Wale to allow me to bring this to you. You know how your Granny gets about people eating in the room.”

Mr Wale was the head chef. He respected my Dad and my Mum always brings gifts for him every year. She does this for every staff.

We have this gift exchange tradition too, whereby we buy gifts for everyone and unwrap our gifts on the 31st of December. 

It's strange but unique. As Mum is buying gifts for the family members, she also includes the staff in her gift buying.

“They are humans too. Just because they work for us doesn't make them less of a human being. They deserve to be appreciated.” She would say.

“You mean, how she gets about people, besides Adenike eating in the room.” I corrected, still remembering how partial she had been regarding Adenike. 

I still didn't understand why she was that way. 

Mum sighed and held my hand. Then she pulled me up into a sitting position.

“Just let it go. Remember we only have a few days to spend here and we are here to celebrate, not mope or whine. Don't let any of them get to you. If you have to stay out of their way, you should. Remember you have a family that loves you unconditionally and that's me, your father and your brothers. Don't let the others ruin the few days left in the year for you, okay?”

I nodded in response and Aunty Lotachi spoke, coming towards me. “Your mother is right, Lola. Ignore those bad belle’s and enjoy yourself.” 

Mum nodded in encouragement as she spoke, “If you start moping around because of them, you'll miss out and guess what? They don't care. They’ll continue having a good time, not giving one second of their time to care how you're feeling.”

She glanced at Amanda who was sitting up and staring at us. “Ogini? My friend, will you lie ura right now?” ‘what is it? My friend, will you lie down and sleep right now?’ She scolded and Amanda immediately laid back.

My mother chuckled and said, “Don't let your mother-in-law hear you speaking Igbo to them o.”

“Abegi, leave that one jare. I don't know what's so wrong with training them to be multilingual. Anyway, as I was saying, ehn Lola, these people are not worth you starving yourself or being moody for. They don't care, so you too, do the same. Now, hurry up and eat before you give yourself a stomach ulcer.” 

“Thank you Lotachi.” Mum thanked her and turned to me again, “Hope you've heard her? Nobody is worth you getting an ulcer for o.” She cautioned pulling one of her ears to show emphasis and I nodded.

They were right. No one is worth skipping my favourite food for. Not Granny, not Big Mummy and not even Adenike or Anita or whatever she chose to go by.

“Thank you ma,” I said to Aunty Lotachi. Turning to my mother, I wrapped my arms around her, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. “Thank you, mummy, I love you so much.”

She patted my back tenderly and when she spoke, I could hear the raw emotion in her voice. “I love you too, oko mi. You are beautiful, never forget that, and never let anyone make you think otherwise.”

“Yes, mummy,” I answered.

She disengaged from the hug and placed the food in my lap. It was still warm.

“Go and wash your hands and come and eat fast before the food gets cold.”

I did just that, just as Aunty Lotachi bade us goodnight and left for her room. My mum stayed till I was done, kissed me goodnight and then helped me take my plates to the kitchen. 

“Don't worry about waking Joseph up to pee, I will do that.” She said to me before leaving.

“Okay, ma. Thank you ma.”

“Goodnight oko mi.”

“Goodnight mummy,” I answered.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but dwell on my mother and Aunty Lotachi's words. 

They were right. I didn't have to let Nike or anyone else—no matter how harsh they might be—get to me.

Getting snide comments from my family members was inevitable, as long as we were all together, we were bound to get on each other's nerves, and I shouldn't let that bother me this much. 

I'd survived countless get-togethers in the past, surely I would survive this one.

‘Just a few more days to go’ I reminded myself as I drifted off to sleep, escaping the chaos—at least for now. 

***************

Saturday, December 28, 2019

7:15 am

The next morning, we all gathered downstairs for morning prayers which big mummy and her daughter came late for, as usual, and they blamed it on jet lag.

They'd been in Lagos for two days and they were still complaining about jet lag.

Of course, they could do that, because nobody would scold them. The whole thing was very frustrating.

I couldn't help but notice that there was something different about Nike this morning. She seemed more tired and I wondered about the possibility of it being a result of jet lag.

She was barely awake throughout the time of the prayer, and once prayers and necessary greetings were said, she announced that she was going back to bed, to which Granny replied, 

“Alright, dear. Do you need anything? Like a hot chocolate, maybe? I can have it sent up to…”

“No thank you. I'm good.” She replied as she shut the door to her room, locking it behind her.

After that, most of us retired to our rooms to freshen up and prepare for the day. The one thing I loved about being here is that we didn't have to do anything. They had enough help, butlers and chefs to take care of everything.

My grandpa, uncles and dad remained downstairs discussing different topics. One I was particularly interested in was the coronavirus topic. I stood on the first floor's balcony, leaning against the rail, listening to their conversation. 

Dad finally brought it up and the confirmation about the virus from Grandpa broke my heart.

“Do you remember my friend, Mr Kueng?” Grandpa asked and Dad was racking his brain trying to figure it out.

“Kueng? Kueng?” He repeated, trying to remember. But then, Uncle Niyi came to his rescue, “Ahn ahn, brother mi, have you forgotten him? We used to call him Mr Kulende.”

“Oh!” Dad exclaimed, recognition setting in as he broke into a smile. “Mr Kulende, what about him?”

Grandpa frowned at the both of them as the rest of the men laughed. 

“I warned you people several times not to call him that.”

“But daddy, he looks like a Kulende now.” Uncle Damilare chimed in and everyone except Grandpa laughed again.

Grandpa didn't look the least bit amused as he said, “His youngest daughter was just recently diagnosed with COVID.”

The laughter abruptly stopped as the men immediately looked apologetic and sympathetic. 

“You don't say.” Uncle Sunkanmi—Aunty Tomi's husband—said, looking dejected.

“Isn't she like six?” Dad asked with a grimace.

“She's seven. But yeah, it's still bad. She has been hospitalized.” Grandpa answered.

There was silence for a few seconds before Uncle Niyi asked quietly, “So, is she going to—die?” He asked, taking a brief pause before mentioning the last word.

I didn't hear anything again after that, but I imagined Grandpa nodding his head. 

I closed my eyes as I felt my heart breaking. Why does a little girl have to die? Where did this virus even come from?

I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice my mother walking towards me.

“Omolola!” She called, jolting me out of my thoughts. “What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be getting ready?”

I was momentarily confused as I gave her a blank stare. Getting ready for what?

I facepalmed as I suddenly remembered.

Our annual family picture day.

Every year, we took a family picture that was always converted into large frames that hung in my grandparents’ living room, while the smaller copies made their way into the picture album. 

I wonder what they’d do when they run out of space on the wall to hang the frames. 

For as long as I could remember, even way before I was born, every 28 of December was picture day for my family and there was always a colour code.

This year's colour code was blue and yellow.

This was another family tradition. I was beginning to wonder why we have so many family traditions. 

“I was going to do that but the bathroom is occupied.” I lied as I headed to the room with her standing akimbo and watching me.

I quickly ducked inside the room and shut the door behind me, to find Amanda and Marianne coming out of the bathroom.

Marianne smiled at me and said, “We're done, you can go in now.”

“Thank you.” I breathed in relief as I hurried off to the bathroom.

«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»

As we got dressed, Marianne and I couldn't help gossiping about Nike and the way she was looking today. I thought I was the only one who noticed how tired she was looking, turns out Marianne also noticed. 

“So you saw it too?” I asked as I wore my dress—a strapless blue at the top with a blue and yellow with a splash of orange from the waist down to the knee-length. It was a free dress, only fitted at the top. 

It was one of the dresses I love. In the past few years, our tailor has always been disappointing me with my outfits, leaving me feeling like an outcast amongst my family members. This year was different and I was happy about it. The only thing I didn't like was my collarbones being this visible. I was already struggling with the way I looked and didn't want to feel worse, but at least my neckpiece was flamboyant, so that should cover my collarbone to some extent.

“How could I not?” Marianne asked while dressing up for her little sister. “She was practically dragging her feet. I wonder what's wrong with her. Anyway, I don't actually care, my mummy has warned me to stay out of her and big mummy's way. Your dress is so beautiful by the way.” 

“Thank you.” I smiled as I twirled for her to get the full view. “Do you need help?” I asked, noticing that she was struggling to zip Amanda's dress. 

“Yes, please.” She sighed in gratitude. “It's like she has added weight again. Funny enough, we tried on our outfits just last week. The rate at which this girl has been adding weight this holiday is alarming.” She pulled Amanda's cheeks playfully, “See your chubby cheeks.” She teased and Amanda giggled.

After a few minutes of struggling with it, we were finally able to zip up Amanda's dress. She giggled and twirled happily while her sister and I were trying to catch our breath.

“Is it too tight?” Marianne asked and Amanda shook her head.

“Are you sure? Can you breathe properly?” I asked and she nodded, then inhaled and exhaled heavily to prove it.

“That's good because there is no replacement dress for you,” Marianne said as she stood up and started getting dressed.

I stood up and went to the mirror, willing myself to love my reflection, when I noticed Amanda pouting.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“I want mummy.” She answered, giving me a puppy dog eyes.

I looked at Marianne who was glaring at her.

“Can't you see I'm getting dressed? I will take you to mummy when I'm done!” She snapped and Amanda’s pout soon turned to silent tears.

“Aww, don't cry. Okay, let me take you to your mummy. Is that okay?”

She quickly wiped her tears and nodded. I glanced at Marianne, “Don't worry, I will take her.”

“Thank you so much.” She said, with a grateful look.

“Oya, come.” I extended my arm and she took it happily as we left the room and headed to Uncle Damilare's room which was upstairs.

I knocked gently and waited. When I didn't get a response, I knocked again and a few seconds later, the door opened and Aunty Lotachi poked her head out. 

Judging from the way she carefully poked only her head out and the unfinished makeup on her face, I could tell that she was not fully done dressing up yet.

“Mummy!” Amanda exclaimed happily, stretching out her arms.

“My love, what are you doing here? You look so beautiful.”

“She said she wanted to come and meet you,” I announced and let go of Amanda's hand.

Aunty Lotachi looked hesitant before saying, “But I'm not done dressing up, baby. You will have to come back later.” 

Amanda's face fell and I could see Aunty Lotachi was weighing her options. 

“Okay, hold on.” She said as she ducked back inside, closing the door slightly. “Babe, are you almost done?” I hear her ask.

“Yeah, why?” Uncle Damilare answered. 

“It's Amanda, she wants to come inside.”

I didn't hear what he said after that, but after a few seconds, she opened the door again and smiled at Amanda.

“Oya, come inside.”

Amanda flew inside excitedly as her mother thanked me. “Thank you, Lola. Your dress is so lovely by the way.”

“Thank you ma. I'm sure yours will be fire, as always.”

She smiled and made a gesture brushing off the compliment and we both laughed as she shut the door.

Truth be told, Aunty Lotachi's beauty was incomparable. She was fair in complexion, petite and slim. Somehow she still maintained her youthful figure even after three kids. 

I often marvelled at how her stomach was still very flat after three kids. She could pass for my big sister on a good day. She also had a body that made her look good in almost everything she wore.

Just as I reached the top of the staircase, the door to my grandparents’ room opened and Granny stepped out looking regal in the most expensive-looking yellow lace with a large gold necklace hanging on her neck. She was holding a blue ‘gele’ in one hand and a blonde wig in the other hand.

She looked relieved when she saw me. “Ah, Omolola, perfect timing.” She stretched out the wig towards me and for a brief moment, I was happy, thinking she was giving me to wear, but she squashed my happiness by saying, “Go and give this to Adenike, sorry, I mean Anita. She asked me to lend her.”

I feigned a smile, trying to keep the disappointment out of my face and voice. 

“Okay ma,” I answered as I took the wig from her and headed to the staircase.

“And tell her to hurry. The makeup artist is already here.” She called after me.

“Yes, ma,” I answered and hastened my steps.

I was not enthusiastic about going to see Nike. Not after what she pulled at lunch yesterday. 

I exhaled slowly and wiped my sweaty palms on my dress, willing myself not to be so nervous as I knocked gently. There was no response.

I knocked again and waited, but still no response.

I don't know what came over me after that, but I found myself leaning towards the door and placing my ear on it. I don't know what I was hoping to hear, but I only heard the sound of music playing from her phone—it was loud—maybe that's why she couldn't hear me knocking, so I knocked again and again, still no response.

Then I decided to try opening the door—maybe it was unlocked—to my surprise, it was.

I stepped inside cautiously and looked around. She was nowhere to be found, but the room was in disarray. Clothes were flung everywhere—on the bed and the floor—even her shoes were thrown around carelessly. 

Something caught my eye, it was a pack of medicine lying on the bed. One of it looked familiar but I couldn't place it from where I stood.

As I was going closer to examine it, I suddenly heard retching coming from the bathroom. It sounded like she was emptying all the contents in her stomach, which was weird because none of us had had breakfast. 

She gagged and retched again and I was worried. I wanted to know if she was okay. Sure she was mean, she had refused all my attempts to be friends, and would not care if I was the one in that position, but I was not her. I would be the bigger person. 

As I was walking to the bathroom, the door suddenly opened and she stepped out in her underwear. We both stopped in our tracks and she looked momentarily shocked as she threw a nervous glance at the pills on the bed, before meeting my gaze with fury.

“What are you doing here, uggo?” She fired.

‘Well, there goes my attempt’ I thought as I stretched out my hand, already feeling angry at how childish she was.

“Granny said you asked for this. Are you okay? I heard you…”

She snatched the wig from my hand, while still glaring at me.

“I'm fine. Now, get out!” She ordered and I gritted my teeth. I wanted to tell her that the makeup artist was here but decided against it. If she was going to be so rude and ungrateful, then it wasn't worth it to tell her.

As I turned around and stormed out, I could feel her following me. Aside from her wanting to quickly get rid of me, I could also sense that she was nervous and I wondered why.

Before slamming the door, she gave me a disdainful look and said, “I know you're probably not used to this, but next time, wait till you get a response before entering anybody's room and try not to go poking your ugly nose in people's business.”

Saying that she slammed the door loudly enough to make the foundation of the house shake and locked it.

I stood there in a daze, feeling confused and angry. 

Why did I tolerate her insults? 

Who cares what Granny or Big Mummy will say? I couldn't keep letting her treat me like this and if I didn't stand my ground, it would keep getting worse.

As I walked off, I knew I had to put a stop to this, and soon. 

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