The knock on the door was as though the knocker intends to break down the security-proof metal door.
“Molara check who it is” Mama commanded in a low voice. Her head crooked. Her face over exaggerates her wide eyes. Suspicion scattered on her face like the stars on a nighty night’s sky.
“Ok ma,” I said sheepishly. I dried my hands of the soapy water of the kitchen sink.
“Be careful!” Mama warned.
Gbam gbam gbam! Came the knock again. Immediately Mama reached for her phone with 911 on the speed dial.
“Could it be your father?” Mama asked in a much lower voice.
“I don’t….maybe.” I chanted.
“Keep your voice down” Mama demanded. Gesticulation with her hands.
No one has ever banged the door that hard. And to make matters worse, none of the palace guards were inside with us.
“Who will now check the door for us?” Mama thought aloud.
“Me” I offered.
How on anything sacred will robbers operate in broad day light? Half terrified, I tiptoed, in spite of myself, to the door. I looked through the peep hole.
“Papa.” I announced and everyone sighed of relieve. Even Tolani who was in the playing room had joined the terrified congregation.
After the armed robbery attack two weeks back, everyone’s adrenaline level has been on the highest.
Once Papa was inside, he quarrelled, “why did it take you eternity to come get the door?” He seemed not to have notice me and Tolani on our knees, chanting “Ekaabo sah” (welcome sir).
“What is this thing doing here?” he demanded, pointing his chieftaincy-walking-stick at Nancy who bowed timidly, wiggling her tail nervously as she does whenever scared.
“Get it out of my sofa oh jarre. Out, out!” he cried, looking cross. Papa was ever only irritated by the dog whenever he is angry or troubled.
“What is the problem?” Mama asked, repeatedly slapping her apron to dry her hand as she walked closer to Papa, who had position in the dinning. Not particularly waiting for Mama’s food – Mama relives the palace cooks on Sundays to personally cook the day’s meal which everyone looks forward to with salivating tongues.
His both elbows sat on the table, while his palms covered his head which rested on them.
I commanded Nancy to go into my room while I switched on the TV, Channels’ 6 O’clock news is around the corner.
“Olowo ori mi (my husband) what happened dear? How did the conference go?” asked Mama again, with more emotion singing out of her voice.
“Is it not that good for nothing Chief Arugbololaye?” baa’mi blew vex-fully.
“What about him?” Mama asked in a voice counter to his own.
“He humiliated me publicly in the meeting of the land rulers. Me. Me!” Papa beat his chest with both hands such that his neck beads and those around his hands hit each other, producing the scattered sound.
“Calm down oko mi. what exactly happened?