1.
The weeks that led to Afunwa’s return came with a lot of speculation, even though none of the inhabitants of the small town said what they actually thought, to Nkiruka’s face, the rumors grew feet and legs and marched into her doors. The first ones were that Afunwa, her son, has been in prison for the past ten years, since no one, not even his mother had heard from him, until a few months ago.
Nkiruka stopped hearing from her son three years after he left for obodo-oyibo. She did not know how to reach him there, because the only information she had was that Afunwa lived in Maryland, USA, and his abroad number stopped going through. She still received the monthly stipends that came from him, but she did not hear a single word. So of course, she created many scenarios of what had happened to Afunwa in her head, and as she created each terrible scenario, she destroyed them afterwards.
Nkiruka did not tell anyone about Afunwa’s coming. Well, aside from Nwamaka, her friend, whose daughter she wanted Afunwa to marry, if he ever came back. And Nwamaka told her daughter, Nwakaego who in turn told her friend Olanna, who in turn told another friend, and so the cycle went until the whole town knew that Afunwaelotanna was back from the dead.
Some of the gossipers surmised that he was really dead, and because it was in Obodo-oyibo, the people there decided to send someone down here, to help break the news. You know, to cushion it. You know how they do things there. What Nkiruka did not tell them, was that she had been receiving stipends in the past years, so they went on with their speculations.
At Nkiruka’s hair salon, one of the biggest in town, the whispers flew around, perching on her ears, that her son Afunwa was coming back with a white wife, and that was the reason for cutting communication before.
The gossipers knew that Nkiruka had always said her son would not marry those uncultured white girls. She even took it within herself, to train Nwakaego, who she prepared for marriage with her son. She shook her head when the rumors got to her, and laughed a wry laugh. But as she prayed that night, she hoped Afunwa did not marry a white woman. When she tried to sleep, the question kept bouncing around, inside her head. Was it why he did not speak to her for years? because he married a white woman?
The women and girls at the salon and in the streets looked at her with pity, they did not tell her to her face, but they knew she heard the newest rumor. In their shops and houses, they whined about; Oh how is she going to survive this devastation when Afunwa arrives? poor Nkiruka; Oh what about Nwakaego, what would she do now?.
2.
On the day Afunwa arrived into town, Nkiruka and Nwakaego cleaned every inch and crevice of the house. They bought fuel for the generator, so when the power holding company would decide to take back their lights, Afunwa, who would be an Americanah, would not be left in darkness. Under the strict supervision of Nkiruka, Ego prepared a buffet of food; from Ogbono soup, to Jollof rice, down to beans and plantain. After that, Nwakaego freshened up and wore one of the ready-made dresses Nkiruka bought for her, plus the perfume for special occasions.
The moment the shiny black car wheezed into the compound, Nkiruka knew it was him. She smoothed invisible creases of her purple boubou, and called onto Nwakaego, whose eyes were on the television. She walked to the front porch, and Nwakaego followed suit, two steps behind.
Afunwa was dragging his box towards the entrance, when the two women sauntered out. His mother bolted out and engulfed him in an embrace. Her big boubou filled his hands. Afunwa buried his face in his mother’s dress, her tangerine scent filling his nose. She still wore the same perfume, even after 13 years. Their porch, which was once highly elevated, was now almost on the same level with the front yard. The walls were visibly repainted, if it was because of him, he does not know.
Nkiruka released him from the tight embrace and examined him slowly, touching his face and body:His skin was fairer now, since there was no sun to fry them in obodo-oyibo, he did not keep a beard like his father, rather he sported a moustache.
Ego, who was now on ground level, greeted Afunwa curtly and offered to take the bag. Mother and son climbed the porch, hand in hand, their faces brimming with smiles while Nwakaego trudged behind with the box.
The air in the main house was a mix of different scents. The scent of Ogbono soup wafting from the kitchen mixed with the tangy scent of the air-freshner, in addition to the pungent, slightly sharp scent of new paint. The three together, formed a scent which Afunwa could not quite describe. The chair setting had been rearranged, the sofa was switched with two arm chairs and the new television made the house look newer. He didn’t really recognize the place anymore.
Afunwa spent some time taking the house in, reorienting himself with a place he had not been in for a long time. He sat down after a while, like a visitor, his legs put together, his hands on his thighs. He did not even rest his back on the chair. When Nwakaego brought him a glass of water, he responded with a curt thank you without sparing her a look.
There were a lot of unsaid words between Afunwa and his mother. He did not know who the new girl was but he wanted her to leave so he could speak to his mother in private.
When the sun slipped under the clouds and the sky darkened, Nwakaego prepared to leave. She bade Nkiruka farewell, and grabbed the food Nkiruka had packed for her family on her way out.
“What happened?”, Nkiruka asked him finally, as they sat opposite each other, in the kitchen island, eating watermelon.
“I fell in love with a man”.
Chukwuebuka Obiakaeze (He/They) is Igbo, Queer and a Writer. They find time away from studying Economics in the University Of Nigeria, to read and write. Their works have appeared in PencilMarks and Scribbles Magazine, Afrihill Press and elsewhere. Twitter (X): ebuka_jules, Instagram: ebuka_julien, and Facebook: Ebuka Julien.