OLAMMA

       

It was already 9am and the so-called first bus which would take Olamma to Nsukka, where the University of Nigeria which she had so readily prepared for was situated, had not even shown any signs of movement. “Oga”, came the piercing and high-pitched voice of a rather gaunt woman. “When we go comot for here na?” she asked. “People never put their load for inside the moto na, madam. Abi you wan siddon for chair dey carry person bag? When we finish the arrangement, everybody go enter the bus and bus go move” the dark, round man who had chapped front teeth and a scary pressed-down nose who was later found out to be the driver answered quite ordinarily, like he said that every day to impatient, gaunt women.

             Olamma who was of mixed feelings listened to the driver and the woman and concluded in her world of imagination that in very ancient times, one would be called ‘Ajonu’ and the other, most preferably, the woman will be known as ‘Ndidi’, since most times, people were the exact opposites of the names bestowed upon them. She came back to reality only after trying to imagine them both in loin clothes and the woman with coal designed on her lips instead of the shiny red lipstick she had decided to put on that, in Olamma’s candid opinion made her look like an Egyptian over-decorated mummy. Since boredom was gradually creeping up to her, she started sizing up the woman. She looked about thirty five and had a long, smooth face. She had short but fine legs and in that, Olamma almost gave her a thumb up. She was of average build though and lacking some curves at some places. Of course, Olamma wouldn’t have seen it, if not for the extremely tight pair of denim jean trousers and short top that the woman was sporting. Out of a hundred percent, Olamma’s calculated scrutiny ended up placing her at forty eight percent. “At least I’m fair enough” she thought within herself.

                “Mma, when you get into the bus, hold your bag very well oh! Keep your phone on and make sure you pray. Mind your own business too. You know this is your first time travelling alone. Nothing will happen to you, inugo?” her mother finally said to her when the bus was due to move. “I have heard, mummy” she answered. “Be a good girl oh! You know that the university is not our house. Read your books like you used to and study very hard. You know the family from where you emerged, okwa ya?”, she continued and Mma smiled instead. She smiled because her mother was smiling, that kind of smile that is shared through a common chemistry between mother and daughter who knew each other’s thoughts without even asking. They harboured their grief and sent it to each other through a common smile which spoke volumes. It was the first time mother and daughter had parted ways and it hurt more than they could both understand...