Morning after the Night Before

Last night I hardly slept. Too much was on my mind.

I sit up on my bed and begin my prayers.

When I was younger mum made it clear to me and Peace that we must ALWAYS say our morning prayers. No matter what…even if the ceiling was collapsing; you must still pray.

The bulk of my prayer was about the issue with me and my father. Peace also.
I get out of bed and go straight into the bathroom. It’s a mess!

It seems some of Peace’s habits haven’t changed since I left. Her towels are on the floor, which is very damp. She’s left the cap off the toothpaste, the mirror and window are steamed up, and her shampoo and hair-care products are scattered near the sink.

I brush my teeth and go downstairs into the kitchen. I greet my family. My sister and mum are having hard-dough bread with butter and Milo. My father’s eyes make contact with mine. He doesn’t look angry, nor does he look happy either. It feels as if he’s been waiting for me. I look away and my eyes fall on his bowl; he’s just finished his Quaker oats.

“Would you like breakfast?” my mother asks sensing some tension.

“No thanks; I’ll just have some Milo”

I make my Milo with cold milk; that’s how I like it. I sit down and drink slowly. The silence in the kitchen is close to agonising. My father must feel the same ‘cos he decides to speak.
“Mikel, don’t think last night is over” he voice sounds deep but tired. I guess he didn’t get much sleep either.

“Over? We’ve barely started” I say with total abadon.
Mum looks slightly shocked. “Obi!..Are you mad?! Don’t speak to you father that way.”

“Sorry mum…sorry dad.”

My dad laughs softly. It’s the kind of laugh that he does when he wants to hide anger.

“Well, seeing as you’ve made it clear that you no longer want to listen to me, I’ll leave you.” He says calmly.

I’m surprised. I was expecting more of a challenge like the night before.

“My son has now become the parent, it’s as if he wants to throw away years of good upbringing.” My father continues.

One thing my father had a habit of doing was trying to play on emotions; it was his way of trying to make someone feel guilty.
“Biko, I want there to be peace between us…”

My father interjects. “There will be peace, once everyone knows their place.”

I know he is referring to me.

“I know my place definitely isn’t being suppressed by you” I say.

“Suppressed?...So me your father is now suppressing you” he says poking his chest.

“Yes. Ever since I was a child you have done it. I have NEVR been good enough. You have always found fault in what I do.” I say this all in one breath.

My mum gets up to speak. But I get my words out first.

“…And it’s affecting Peace too”

All heads turn to her. She sits looking at us nervously.

“She feels like she can’t exceed in anything with you; all she does is just good and nothing else.”
My dad now looks confused. My mum looks sad and confused. I try myself at playing my father’s game.

“All the negative attention you placed on me has had very negative affects on her.”

I feel like I’m exaggerating a bit, but hey, I guess I get it from my father.
Peace looks more worried now. I don’t like seeing my sister upset. But things needed to be sorted out.

“Adannaya?” my father calls Peace by her Igbo-name. “Adannaya, Have I not done my best with you? Have you now joined your brother to…”

Peace cuts him off.

“Dad, he’s right. Everything I’ve done has been good to you, but you never tell me how I could make it better. You push Obi in everything, even when he doesn’t like it. But not with me.”

Peace stops speaking and gets up. She places her plate and mug in the sink.

“I’m going to clean up the bathroom.” She says. She walks out; I hear her quick and light footed steps on the stairs.

I know it took a lot for my sister to speak out. It took me a lot too.

Anything that comes close to challenging an African parent was never a good idea. Even being grown, things like this brought back that fear of a child.
“All I want is a happy family! Is that too much to ask?” My mother says looking upwards as if praying. I hear the tones of frustration and sadness in her voice.

I leave my cold Milo unfinished and attempt to walk out. My mother calls me back.

“Mikel Obiora Nwadiké! Come here! What has gotten into you?!”

“Nothing mum. It’s just that I’m tired. I do love dad, but he needs to change his ways.” I talk as if he isn’t there.

I hear my sister’s footsteps again. Peace comes back in. I look to her.

“Everything’s fine Peace…come on, lets go; I’ll help you clean up the mess YOU made in the bathroom.”  i tell her.

Me and Peace walk out. As we walk upstairs we hear our mother voice.

“You see what you have caused?! Albert! I said this will happen! I told you in the beginning that if you don’t change something like this may happen!” she ends by kissing her teeth.

The slip-slap sounds of my mother’s slippers sound out through the kitchen and she cleans the rest of the table.
I guess mum has some issues she needs to sort out with dad too.