CHINA TORI

There was this special lady I met once. I describe her as special because you know, you meet some people and the impression they leave on you is so strong you can’t shake it off. Ms. Anita is one like that.

So how did we meet? My best friend! In the weeks before the pandemic broke out, we talked about everything; from our relationships, to plans and to his family. Where there was so much to talk about on the first two, it was all about meeting his elder sister whenever we talked about his family.

The talk about his sister continued for weeks and I tried to avoid it by pressing him to return to Lagos. The pandemic was in full swing by then and I feared for him. He was not feeding well, couldn’t travel and his restless mind was beginning to see things that weren’t there. He was so lonely it was beginning to get to his head.

Anyways, when the lockdown was eased up a little, we got him to come back to civilization – living alone in a hostel in faraway Ibadan took him back to the Stone Age and it was really bad. So he came back and there was nothing I could do to stop myself from running to him. And in my rush, I forgot to prepare for people. Yes, new people.

There is this thing I do that involves psyching whenever I need to meet new people. I mentally prepare myself for the worst and somehow hope for a good time. I condition my eyes to see the good in people and remind myself to take note of red flags. But on that day, I forgot! Him I have known for a while, so there was no need to prepare. What I forgot, however, was that I was going to meet family.

So I went and had a good experience, surprisingly. His elder brother didn’t care and his father gave me a smile. His cousins taught he was lying to them about our relationship as friends and his sister… His sister kept sizing me up!

I first noticed ‘the thing’ about her when I walked in. It had rained that day and I got mud all over my body from the motorcycle ride. So I asked for water to wash up at the door. In a split second, she was all over me trying to help me get rid of the dirt. And no, it wasn’t in a girl-to-girl kind of way. It was more like a mother-to-her-son’s-friend kind of way. You cannot imagine my embarrassment when she raised my blouse to see if my bra caught some dirt too.

Afterwards, we had the kitchen episode where she wanted to know everything. She wanted to know how we met and how we have stayed friends. It was very obvious that she didn’t believe the part about us being just friends. She thought there was more and she nodded and smiled whenever it was mentioned. You know how mothers go, “be deceiving yourselves there, I know what I’m seeing”. That was the look she had the entire time and it irked me somehow. I kept feeling like after I leave, she would call her younger brother into her room and give him some advice.

That thing was just there – I mean the mother-figure thing. In my first visit, she played it down a bit, but in the second one, she just couldn’t help herself. The first visit was marked by, “I hope you don’t mind that I dished your food into one plate?” There was also, “Will that food be enough for you two?” and “Nah, don’t worry about the dishes. Liam, go and watch TV with your friend in the sitting-room”. Wow! I know right? Ask me how old I am and then you will understand.

The second visit, on the other hand, was the bomb. Liam informed me earlier that he wanted me to spend the night in his sister’s room as that would give us an opportunity to bond. I tried to refuse but he won’t have it. So I conceded. Mehn that night remains the most torturous night of my life. You would expect her to ask the questions, since she was already playing the mother character, but she didn’t. Her eyes just followed me everywhere instead. I tried to stall the bedroom episode by watching a full season of a piece I can’t remember now. But she was at the door at intervals asking if it wasn’t time for me to sleep yet. I finally went to bed and I regretted it. I don’t know why, but I was at the edge of the bed the entire night. I was so careful not to roll and go and touch her. So I woke up with a head and back ache.

Morning came and I announced that I will be leaving by noon. Best friend was upset and we settled with a shift to evening. Then the highlight occurred. As soon as it clocked five pm, Anita was by my side with the reminder. She suggested some routes and advised that I leave early so I would get home early. You know because I’m a girl and the roads are not safe. Talk about “the thing”.

So why am I telling this story. You remember what I said earlier about how I prepare to meet new people? Over the years, it has helped me stop to ask questions instead of out rightly judging. I know some persons would have gotten mad and then allowed their anger ruin the beautiful friendship they already have with the man. Nothing actually irks more like having a younger person treat an older person like they are the younger one. And yes, this Anita is seven years younger than me.

The next few days, I was on Anita’s case. Most of the times, I was asking questions and some other times, my best friend just provided answers. It was enlightening and the understanding that came afterwards was heartwarming. I will be eternally grateful that I didn’t take any of that to heart before I got to know the real Anita. Where some people are given the opportunity to choose their path, some other wake up one morning and find themselves living their nightmare. In the midst of all the confusion, they somehow muster courage and strength and move on. They master it all not at once but by daily taking steps of faith. With two brothers, four live-in cousins and their mother, and her father, Anita just found herself doing the mother thing. She had to because the first mother died when she was four years old.

Anita was so used to being a mother that she couldn’t bring herself to be anything else. It was there in the way she carried herself and in the way she spoke. She only needs to spend about five minutes with you to find something that needs to be fixed and that was good, in a way. The thrilling thing, however, was the kind of mother she chose to be – the Nigerian kind. You know what they have said about Nigerian mothers and tough love? It is all true and it was the gospel for this lady.