Skip to main content

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WALL: EBUBE'S NARRATIVE.

    While growing up, there was this girl who lived with her family in the same flat that was attached to mine. Apart from sharing a supporting wall, we also shared a first name, Ebube, and that was somehow the foundation for our friendship. Imagine living next to someone who bore the same name as you. The mistaken shouts of your name you thought were coming from your mother but instead resonated off the walls from the next-door neighbour's house. We had a decent relationship. I visited and played with her, and the family and life were calm. Then all of a sudden, my mother told me that I had to stop going over to their house one day.
    Imagine my shock. I had asked why and my mother, being the All-Nigerian woman she is, bluntly told me that is was a demand from Ebube's father. I was confused. I kept wondering why the sudden restriction. I still asked my mother, but she never answered as though in an attempt to lessen the effect of the news. From then on out, the restrictions continued. It got so severe that no one was talking to anyone between both families - that might have been as a result of the numerous times her father scratching my mother's car every other day without apologizing about it. 
    I always related Ebube's upbringing to that of Kambili's from the book: Purple Hibiscus with Mr Dike(Ebube's dad)playing the role of the strict, overly religious and dare I say abusive(don't know about physical though) father like Papa Eugene and Ebube's mother plays the submissive wife. The role of Junior is hard to decide, seeing as every sibling old enough to rebel is rebelling for freedom. Frankly, I'm shocked there hasn't been a poisoning yet, seeing as that was the route Sister Beatrice(Kambili's mother) took as a means to free herself and the children from the husband's iron hand. (A/N: Although it did end with Junior taking the fall for his mother's crime which led to his imprisonment that's not the story I'm telling here. If you want to learn more, go read the damn book, please). Their family pattern gave me a bit of relief, seeing as I always assumed that my family was a bit tight-lipped as well but not to the point of having any murderous intent for anyone. 
     Through the early part of last year, on the off chance that we were both homes from school at the same time, Ebube and I were able to build back the friendship we once had and we found out we had quite the same interests(A/N: I mean of course we would, my interests are amazing). We had a keen interest in reading(novels not school books), had almost the same taste in music(which imagine my surprise, seeing the religious background she has) and our movie choices were relatable. I had begun to realize that the Ebube I once knew was totally gone and a more assertive and determined individual took her place(A/N: in short, he turned into a feminist). At least, now she could outrightly call her father out on his BS- of course not to his face- and be more demanding to her mother especially when it concerns her youngest brother, who is way too fat for his age and is on the obese spectrum. My brother is fat too, I admit, and I'm also fat myself but he is a little bit too excessive for his age(He's 8 by the way). We have all asked what the problem was and the answer we get is that it's their father's doing which raises a lot of questions that I'm not ready to find answers to. I just hope they are able to control the love stuffing before we get another death in the compound.
    Another similar thing about their family, like the Kambili's, is how religious their father can be. I live next door to them and the prayers I hear coming from that house is more than any family should do. I asked Ebube about it and she said her father can get a bit paranoid about things, so he goes to prayers for closure. A closure that involves the aid of different pastors trooping in and out of their home every night and the prayers vibrating off the walls or even my own house(A/N: THERE ARE CRACKS TO PROVE IT). You'd think that with schools being on shutdown that I'd get to see more of her but her warden of a father monitors their movements in and out of the house even up to their phone call conversations. I mean that kind of restriction is enough to make someone go insane. I wonder how she hasn't lost it and exploded on them yet but I'm sure she has her own way of dealing with her family. I just hope they do something about their brother though before it's too late. 
    I have a neighbour, her name is Ebube and her parents are driving her crazy.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

THE THING ABOUT BEING 23, 5FT 11 AND 100KG

     You are tall. Granted. However your size distracts people from your almost dominating height( scoffs ,  not that dominating)      You'd wish you were taller. But that would need you to put a bit of effort into your physical appearance, and you just don't give a damn.       And even when you do try to keep fit - 1km or 2km runs, light push-ups and sit-ups- you begin this ritual of staring at your half-naked self in the mirror after every 'uncompleted' work out.        On the days you do notice changes, you feel a deep sense of accomplishment. You raise your wobbly shoulders and suck in your tummy, almost willing the abs to show( They do not ).      Biceps are subtly bulging, chest getting pumped, and stomach not showing in your tight T-shirts. But everything changes when you drink water( LMAO )      It vexes you when people see your face and instantly believe you have a wife and ...

FEMINISM IS... DRIVING A BIG RED TRUCK.

       I know a woman. She drives a big red truck. Whenever she takes the truck out for a drive, no matter where she goes, people tend to look at her. Some stare out of awe from the beauty and sheer size of the machine. Some stare out of jealousy as they wish to be in the driver's seat of this vehicle. Some stare out of some preconceived notion that a woman should not be driving such a magnificent car. Each reason comes with its own distinct stare and I laugh anytime I see these things because they don't know the struggles that came before the acquisition of such a splendid ride so they only judge by what they see on the surface - A woman driving a big red truck.      There's nothing special in women driving. Honestly. They still have to obey traffic laws, they still need to pay tolling bills, they still check all their mirrors before backing out of the driveway and they still need to update their license every now and then. So what's the big deal abou...

BE AS SALT(ED)

It was corn season and on one fateful evening, my mother (A/N: This woman really needs to start paying me for making her my muse in most of my articles) decided to go out in search of roasted corn and pear or ubé in our dialect. After driving through various streets- seeing as that was where most vendors took up shop as a result of the lockdown of the markets in the state- we came across an elderly woman who took up a small space in front of an electronics/furniture shop. She really didn't stick out like the other sellers nearby but merely looking at her, you could tell that her roasted corn would be nice and without much surprise they were. I love roasted corn, but I always wondered what made them so sweet when the process only involved setting raw corn on a charcoal stove and giving it time to roast. On eating the corn, my mother made an observation, that they reason, why the old lady's corn was tasty, was that she soaked the raw corns in a bowl of saltwater befor...