I first met Ngozi at Mama Chinedu's sitting room one cloudy evening as I returned from work. She was sitting comfortably on my favourite couch. I'm in Mama Chinedu's sitting room, and you would easily tell she wasn't a stranger.
Immediately she saw me, she rose, bent her knees in greeting, and smiled as if we had known each other for years.
“Sister Zerah, good evening ma,” she said softly, like she had known me for a long time.
I glanced at Mama Chinedu, who was beaming with smiles trying to understand what exactly was going on. “Meet my cousin, Ngọzi from the village, Zee” she explained proudly. “She came yesterday evening. Don't mind the drama, she's so respectful. You will like her.”
"I can see that already." I concurred nodding my head.
Ngozi continued. “I've heard a lot about you. And I am happy to meet you at last.”
I smiled. She was such a cute girl, and I immediately took her as part of the family.
That night, as I cooked in my small flat, I heard a soft knock on my door. I knew immediately that it wasn't Mama Chinedu. She had her own keys to my apartment. I walked to the door to see Ngọzi standing there with a bowl of fresh okra soup for me she had made with Mama Chinedu.
“This is yours, sister Zee,” she said, her voice low, almost shy.
I smiled at her. "Tell Mama Chinedu thank you for me," I replied as she left and I locked the door.
She was quick to slip into compound life like she had always belonged. She would sweep the yard before most of us would wake up. She would love your dried clothes from the line without being asked to before the rain comes. Even I began to lean on her little acts of kindness.
We even ate fried plantain together one time in Mama’s Chinedu's parlor, I had teased her playfully,
“Ngozi, you cook like someone who has been married for ten years.”
She laughed lightly and said, “My future husband will be lucky.”
Mama Chinedu smiled. “Very lucky.”
But it wasn't long until the sweetness began to sour.
I had come back from work one day to cook and found my tuber of yams missing from my kitchen. I quickly thought Mama Chinedu had finally taken the tuber of yams to make porridge as we had agreed. Gently, I walked over to her place and asked her if she had picked the yams.
Mama declined. She hadn't been to my house that day.
I let it go, but this unease gradually crawled up my chest.
By the following week, I noticed one of my earrings was gone, a small gold stud I got as a gift from my mother before I came to Lagos. I turned my room upside down searching for it but I found nothing.
I forgot about it too. Maybe I had dropped it with the wrong hands and couldn't remember where it was.
Weeks passed and one day I came home early and heard laughter in Mama Chinedu’s room. It was Ngozi's voice. I peeked, and just as I thought, it was her. Mama Chinedu wasn't in sight. She seemed to be packing her bags. But something else caught my attention. In Ngozi's ear was a pair of my gold studs. My earrings.
“Ngozi!” I burst in. “Where did you get those?”
She jumped up, stammering, “Sister Zerah. You're back"
"Yes." I raged and you haven't answered my question. "How did you get my earrings?"
Stammering. "I only found them… I was going to tell you”
“Found them? In my room? How? You don't have access to my apartment. Only Mama Chinedu does. She has my keys, so how did you get access to my apartment?” My voice shook.
Mama Chinedu walked out to the sitting room. Her eyes were heavy, she must have been sleeping. With sleepy, narrowing eyes.
“Ngozi, what's going on? How did you get her earrings?"
"I... I saw them the last time we were at her place. I didn't know how to ask her, so I..." she continued stammering.
"You what? Speak up!"
"I took the keys from your drawer and..."
I cut in. "And entered my apartment, to my room to take them."
Ngọzi nodded shamefully.
"That's stealing Ngọzi!" Mama Chinedu paused. She looked embarrassed. "I thought you were better. Ngọzi, after all the food you’ve eaten under my roof? After how nice we've been to you.?
Tears sprang from Ngozi’s eyes, but Mama was unmoved. “Pack your load, I'm sending you back to your mum Tomorrow morning. I cannot shelter a thief.”
By nightfall, Ngozi was gone. I held my earrings in my palm, heavier than they had ever felt.
Mama Chinedu later apologized on her behalf.
[Image Source](https://pixabay.com/photos/jewellery-earring-golden-1175526/?