I woke up with a heavy heart that morning. But trust me, I had no plans of crying.
The bright sun burnt my feet as I stood in front of my apartment staring at Mama Chinedu's door. Unlike every other Saturday, today was quiet apart from Mama Chinedu's sewing machine making that familiar tak-tak-tak sound. A sound that sometimes annoyed me now felt like familiar comfort. My chest was heavy. Today wasn’t normal.
Today, I had to tell Mama Chinedu I was leaving.
Not to another neighborhood or state in the country. But to Sunderland.
A far, cold country.
To a whole new world waiting for me.
I was going to break her heart a little. Even mine too.
That was exactly why my heart felt heavy.
I took a deep breath and walked over to her door. I guess I had summoned courage from the universe. I knocked and waited. Unlike me, I would have just walked in without knocking but I wasn't thinking right. I waited till I heard her call
“Come in, oh!”
I pushed the door and stepped into her cozy apartment. She was sitting behind the machine, glasses halfway down her nose. Her wrapper was tied, as if she were ready for both work and fight.
“Nne o (My dear)!” she smiled as I approached. “Come and see this gown. The client didn't give me a style, she asked me to make something simple yet mature for her. What do you think?” she asked.
I forced a smile and nodded. "It's nice. I like it."
Man's Chinedu beamed with pride and went on to cut and join a few pieces of the gown together. I sat there in silence looking at her and also waiting for the right time to drop the bombshell.
Finally, I cleared my throat. “Mama…" I paused. My voice sounded like it had sand inside it.
She paused and turned towards me. At that point, she knew something was bothering me. "Zee, ogini? (What is it?)"
I got up and walked closer to her. I could see on her face a look that had concern in it. The same look she had when I almost fainted from stress. The same look she had when she wrapped me up and prayed.
I cleared my throat again. “I got the admission,” I said quietly.
She blinked. “Admission? Where?”
“Sunderland.”
A swift rush of silence suddenly enveloped us and we stared at each other in silence.
She removed her glasses slowly like she couldn't hear well with them on. She tried to speak but paused like her heart needed time to adjust and her brain was still processing the information.
“So you're leaving?” she asked.
I nodded as I gently reached for her hand with my right hand.
"When?" She asked, squeezing my palm unconsciously.
“Soon. Very soon.”
She pulled her seat closer. Suddenly, it felt like the world outside was moving quickly, but our small room froze.
“So you are leaving Lagos,” she said.
I shook my head. Gently I placed my other palm on top of her palm. “Nigeria,” I replied.
Her eyes glistened, but her smile didn’t break. “I am happy for you.”
I nodded. I believed her although it sounded true and untrue at the same time.
We sat there like we were waiting for the first to break character and let the tears rush out like a breaking pipeline.
Suddenly, I remembered the first day I moved into this compound. The first day I came in contact with Mama Chinedu. I had thought she was stalking me. How we became an inseparable mother and daughter duo. How we've eaten from Sam's pot. Gossiped together. The memories. The sharing of food. The days of being in our lowest and the days of our highest.
How she will push a plate of rice to me and say “Eat, your eyes are telling me hunger wants to kill you before Lagos does.”
She advised me on stuff and made sure I didn’t feel alone. How we laughed so much on days we cooked together that sometimes we almost forgot the food was on fire.
These memories rose like smoke to my mind. I could tell she was reminiscing on it too, and wished it were possible that it wouldn't end.
Almost in tears, she whispered. “You have grown. Now I know why you were losing weight.”
I smiled.
“I can still remember your early days in Lagos. You were like someone the wind could push away. Now look at you. You are flying.”
Unconsciously, I felt a tear slip down my cheek. But I didn't care to wipe it.
“It's going to be hard to leave you,” I said in tears. I couldn't hold back my emotions anymore.
She reached for my face and wiped my tears with her palms. “You are not leaving me,” she replied. “You are following your future. I will be here. I will always be here whenever you need me."
I leaned forward and rested my head on her shoulder. It felt the same. Like the same shoulder that had carried many of my bad days.
“I love you, Mama,” I said.
She held me tight. “I love you too, my daughter.”
Then I felt a tear drop on my cheek. I turned to see Mama Chinedu crying. I guess she can't hold her emotions now either. After a while, she stood up and clapped her hands like she was chasing sadness away.
“Oya. Wipe those tears. We cannot cry like Nollywood people."
I got up and watched her throw the gown she was working on away. Then she stood up and said, "We have to celebrate your progress. Come, I'll make you your favorite."
“Jollof?” I asked.
She nodded. "Plus I have a bottle of wine in the fridge." Then held my hand and led me to her kitchen.
I laughed. "Someone rescue me now. Mama Chinedu has intentions of getting me drunk and overfeeding me today." I joked.
We laughed together this time.
"Yeye girl. (Funny girl)" Mama Chinedu said.
Image is mine