Skip to main content

Memories - Radio Drama

[Sweeping. Door creaks. Mama has entered]

Chinatu: {excitedly} Mama good afternoon, Noh o!

Mama: My daughter, good afternoon, kedu? How are you?

Chinatu: I am fine Mama, very fine.

Mama: Look at how you have managed to clean up this place. What would I do without your helping hands?

Chinatu: [laughs] Mama, you would do a lot.

Mama: I don’t think so o. these boys just frustrate my efforts in these house. They never do anything. All they do is go to wherever in the morning and come back when the sun has gone down, smelling of palm wine, asking of food and finding the path to their own rooms. They are twins and they are inseparable, almost every corner of this village knows them.

Chinatu: But at least they help once in a while. Didn’t you say it was Chika that single handedly built the zinc shade in the back yard? And that Ihe’s came back from the farm last week with that antelope on his neck, that we’ve been eating since then.

Mama: [sigh] Ok, I agree they have their good sides but the good they do does not equal the strain they cause me. [proverb about helping] At least, as you have been with us since they day before, I have not had to do most of the work.

Chinatu: [laughs] don’t worry mama it is sure you won’t be doing any work at all as soon as Chioma gets here.

Mama: [Excited] Yes o. My daughter is coming home.

Chinatu: [laugh] I know you can’t wait for her to get here.

Mama: My dear. It has been so long. I still can’t believe she is coming until I see her with my two naked eyes. [Proverb about seeing and believing]

Chinatu: But Mama, she has just been gone for five years

Mama: And five years is not enough time for you?

Chinatu: Mama: It is. I myself cannot wait to see her. Forme it has been seven years. We have talked so much on the phone but I sometimes forget what she looks like, I can only try to imagine. I remember the last time I saw her.

Mama:  [interrupting] At De Ezimba’s daughter’s wedding.

Chinatu: No Mama. I was still around after that. It was at Chief Igbokwe’s coronation, where we were made to serve the guests.

Mama: Oh Yes, yes, how could I have forgotten the fight you two had over who would go and fetch water for washing of the plates. That you wanted to break all my plates in anger, carrying them out of the bath to go and get the same water that became useless because you had broken nearly all the plates.

Chinatu: [sigh] Mama, you didn’t have to recall the event as if it just happened yesterday.

Mama: how wouldn’t I recall it, do you know how expensive chinaware was then? You were lucky Chioma stopped me from descending on you that day. You’d have still been feeling the pain till today.

Chinatu: [laughs heartily] Mama, I can buy you a dozen cartons of chinaware now.

Mama: [stubbornly] I don’t want chinawares again.

Chinatu: [Sigh] I wondered sometimes how Chioma could be so selfless, defending me even when I had threatened to fight her if she kept insisting I go fetch the water. If you Uncle Chidozie had not ordered me to go, I’d probably have still fought. It was just that I wanted her to accompany me and she was saying she was busy.

Mama: Or you were  just stubborn [proverb about stubbornness] because I had pampered you a lot unlike Chioma whom your father, [in igbo] may his soul rest in peace, brought upwith a hard hand. I thought I ccouldn’t handle you well enough and I did not want to  see those your useless uncles toching you, claiming they wanted to shape you into a woman. I did not know what they had in their hearts. That was why I sent you to Nne Udoma’s house. So she would help me discipline you as she disciplined the other young girls that were sent to her.

Chinatu: I was always envious of Chioma. I felt that people liked her much more than me. It was always Chioma this, Chioma that. See how Chioma did this, See how nicely Chioma did that. I heard that from everyone. I remember when we received her waec result. Few months before Papa passed, on may his soul rest in perfect peace

Mama: Amen

Chinatu: Father called Chioma and I in this living room. I remember, while I was shivering, standing in front of Papa, thinking I had done something wrong, the twins were  crying and you were attending to them. Papa showed us the result. He congratulated Chioma and promising her gifts, Blessing her while she jumped about full of smiles, opening that her perfect set of white teeth like that (demonstrating a comical ear to ear grin) while I boiled with jealousy. Papa showed me her result and said I MUST do better in my time.

Mama: Eventually, you passed well

Chinatu: Yes, but at the time…

Mama: I wouldn’t say she was better than you. I love you both equally and so did your father (In igbo) may his gentle soul rest in peace. You just had different upbringing that shaped your lives. That’s why I don’t blame the twins sometimes. It is my fault they have turned out the way they are. If only I was a better mother… (voice becomes teary) if…if di’m was still around. (sobbing) maybe just maybe.

Chinatu: Mamaaa. Stop that. You are the best mother we could ever have. Look how Chioma has turned out. The perfect wife material if you ask me.

Mama: (cheerful) Yes o… I did not tell you, Ochaa’s son, Nnamdi returned from the city the last week. They paid me a visit. And from what we talked and how they kept asking of Chioma, when will she be around, if anyone has come for her hand, I would say they are interested

Chinatu: (happy) Eh ennnn! That’s Amazing. She would soon be married.

Mama: That’s not all…she has two suitors. De Innocent, the one who owns that flour mill at the entrance to the village, came the other day telling me about his son in the city. He said he wants to marry Chioma for him…I told him I’d talk about it with my daughter when she comes.

Chinatu: Yes, it’s good. Chioma should be able to choose for husband.

Mama: Tah! Who said so. You want her to go and bring one good for nothing boy from the city to take all my investments ehn?

Chinatu: (laugh) Mamaaa. (sigh) I can’t wait till she comes anyway.

Mama: But she should be here by now. This is to eight. I spoke to her about… two hours ago and she said they were at onistha. They should have gotten here an hour ago. (dials phone)

Chinatu: (excited, hurried) so she can be here any second? I better go start cooking and preparing her room. I want her to see that I’ve turned out a good wife material after all. (laughs, distant)
(Phone rings. It is picked. There is incoherent noise in the background and a male voice speaks, cracking)

Man: Hello?…. Hello?… this phone… was… at an accident site… died… have been taken to… mortuary… hello?

[END]

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Famished Road | Readings

‘If  you  misbehave the same thing will happen  to  you.’ ‘What?’ ‘The  forest  will  swallow  you.’ ‘Then  I  will  become  a  tree,’  I  said. ‘Then  they  will  cut  you  down  because  of  a  road.’    ‘Then  I  will  turn  into  the  road.’   ‘Cars  will  ride  on  you,  cows  will  shit  on  you,  people  will  perform  sacrifices  on  your  face.’   ‘And  I  will  cry  at  night.  And  then  people  will  remember  the  forest.’ Azaro and Madame Koto  Excerpt from  The Famished Road By Ben Okri. Pg 164 Azaro is surrounded by myths and mysterious things that no ...

Short Story Fiction ~ On Top

Odd. Yes. That’s the word to describe the feeling when he’s on top of you, inside of you, thrusting rapidly like a mad man before he comes. You cannot feel anything but the hair on his chest. His husky breathing pollutes the air around you. His large belly seems to fill the space of the bed, he is surprisingly light.      As soon as he is done, he rolls off you and crashes into the bed, breathing a sigh of relief. He chuckles and prods himself on an elbow and looking into your eyes with a wide grin on his ugly mouth. He asks how you feel and if he was good. You want to say you hated every second of it but you simply ask why he had to be on top and he says a real man must always be on top.   You get off the bed and walk to the bathroom, with a tackiness between your legs. You lay in the tub staring at the tiled wall; the hot water doesn’t seem to wash away your filthiness. The soap smells nice however and you wrap it in your underwear to take it out...

A New Dream Of Politics | Ben Okri | Poetry

They say there is only one way for politics. That it looks with hard eyes at the hard world And shapes it with a ruler’s edge, Measuring what is possible against Acclaim, support, and votes. They say there is only one way to dream For the people, to give them not what they need But food for their fears. We measure the deeds of politicians By their time in power. But in ancient times they had another way. They measured greatness by the gold Of contentment, by the enduring arts, The laughter at the hearths, The length of silence when the bards Told of what was done by those who Had the courage to make their lands Happy, away from war, spreading justice And fostering health, The most precious of the arts Of governance. But we live in times that have lost This tough art of dreaming The best for its people, Or so we are told by cynics And doomsayers who see the end Of time in blood-red moons. Always when least expected an un...