It was a very subdued Nonso that trailed his annoyed mother out of her Toyota Sienna and into the three bedroom apartment where they lived in Ikoyi.
Chidinma had been silent on the entire car ride from the hospital and Nonso’s trepidation had grown with each mile they passed. He felt it was better when his mother ranted and raved at him in anger, but when she was silent, he knew a very huge hammer was about to fall.
His fears were confirmed the moment he shut the front door behind him.
“I suppose I have been giving you too much freedom. And since you’ve chosen to abuse that privilege, it’s time to take it from you.” Chidinma’s face was grim and she grated out the words from between her clenched teeth. Her fists were resting on both sides of her waist and Nonso could feel the disappointment radiating from her body. “I have not touched you since you were a toddler, but God help me Nonso, what I want to do right now is turn you over my knee and smack you with my trusty eba stick!”
Nonso was not worried about the threat of physical violence. His mother had truly not punished with by a physical beating since he was a child, so he knew she was merely venting. It was the first part of her sentence that had worried him.
“Mum, I’m sorry…” he started hesitantly and stopped as Chidinma raised a hand.
“It’s a bit too late for that, young man.” Chidinma snapped. “Besides, apologies only work when you mean them. Not when you’re trying to use them to wriggle out of punishment AFTER you’ve being caught.”
Nonso shrugged, and crossed his own arms stubbornly. His mother felt she always had the uncanny ability to see through his actions, and it annoyed him.
Chidinma’s eyes narrowed. “Nonso Chiedozie Ude, you will drop those hands this minute! When did that kind of behavior start?”
Nonso paused for a few moments, and then reluctantly unfolded his arms. At his mother’s continued glare, he mumbled. “Sorry mum.” She did not shift her steely-eyed gaze and he completed the sentiment. “I won’t do that again.”
“Thank you. Now, go to your room. No TV, no game playing. Think over what you did until lunch is ready.” Chidinma ordered. “We’re going to have a long talk, and trust me, it will be unpleasant for you.”
She watched her son trudge down the corridor that led to his room, his shoulders tight with anger he knew better than to express at that moment. He shut his bedroom door loudly, almost too loud, and she considered marching over to his room and asking him to apologize for banging his door shut. But she decided to ignore it. The boy had been pushed quite far enough already. One more nudge and things could get confrontational; she was trying to avoid such a situation.
Chidinma sighed and sunk down into one of the living room chairs, groaning in relief at the chance to finally rest her back. Since a non-fatal vehicle accident she had been involved in a few years back, she had been plagued by occasional bouts of unexplained back pain. Stressful work days usually exacerbated the condition and her day had certainly been a terrible one.
She slid her shoes off her aching feet, shaking her head as she remembered the incident with the handsome young man, Onyeka Michael, who she had mistaken for one of her son’s school mates.
“Well, how could I not?” she muttered to herself as she tugged off her blouse, letting the cool air from the revolving fan touch her skin. “He looked like a kid, for goodness sake.”
The backpack on the young man’s back and his boyish features had contributed to the confusion, but after she got over her embarrassment, she had found out he had only recently resumed temporary work at the hospital. He was an auditor, sent to evaluate the hospital’s financials and personnel records, and he had merely been walking in to work when he saw Nonso and his group of panicked friends. His only crime had been to join the group of boys and attempt to calm them down as their unconscious friend had been wheeled away.
Chidinma grimaced as she remembered how she had accused him of giving the boys marijuana. It had been a hasty, unfair accusation, but luckily, he had not seemed to take offence. He had actually seemed amused and had graciously accepted her shame-faced apology.
She sighed and stood up wearily, smiling as she realized her upper body was only covered in her bra.
“Look at me, like an old mother hen. Accusing strangers of being a bad influence on my son and walking around in my bra.” Her voice echoed in the empty living room and she winced. She heard Nonso’s room door open, then close, and she wondered if he would walk towards the living room. If he did, and saw her, he would protest and ask her to keep her shirt on.
At least try not to embarrass me all the time, mum, she imagined her son pleading with an eye roll.
She began to laugh, and then remembered the tense scene with Nonso. She walked into her bedroom, pulled on a simple sleeveless gown, made a detour to the kitchen for two cans of coke, then walked quietly to Nonso’s room and placed a hand on the door. She could hear music playing, not too loud, so as not to annoy her, but loud enough to stop him from hearing her.
Chidinma felt a stab of sadness. She partly blamed herself for her son’s stubbornness. Sometimes she felt that if she had stayed married to Nonso’s father, or at least married someone else, the boy would have had a proper father figure to look up to. It was hard been a single mother to a teenage boy, especially an intelligent one seething with hormones and curiousity. She knew he would have to be punished for leaving school early and experimenting with marijuana, but she also knew only a proper talk, rather than angry sanctions, would show him why his actions were wrong.
“Nonso.” She tapped gently on the door, annoyed with herself. Why couldn’t she stay angry at her son for long? “May I come in?” When there was no response, she took a deep breath and pushed down on the door handle.
The boy’s room was chaotic, as usual. Clothes were strewn over his bed and a chair and shoes littered the carpeted floor. But what left Chidinma open-mouthed with shock and a newly ignited anger was the absence of the room’s lone occupant.
Her son was not in his room.
The unrepentant teenager had sneaked out.
To be Continue
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