Remembering... My first loves

i remember at 21
i had just moved back home after 2yrs of college

had to leave mom's home since she couldnt respect my opinion.

"you know what, mom? just so you know, if ever i want to get married, and when i am ready to choose, you can be rest assured, that i wont be looking for a man who can get along with you. A little naija man who- at your beck and call, hurries because "culture" dictates so. I wont pick one because he postrates at your presence. i hate to break it to you but MA MARRIAGE WONT BE ABOUT YOU! You wont be in it. I'll rock that ring, and it'll remain a pact between me, and whoever else i'm with. Between two people, where there wont be any intruders. If i'm with a man, Mother, it'll be because i want him, he wants me, and he respects me. Now let this be the last time you speak to me about something I've already discussed with you. We can agree to disagree. i'll move out next month."

and i did.
years later,Mama and I, are even closer.
Mama calle me when she makes my fav. meals,
calls me to pick some mails up,
sometimes still deliver my mails for me,
Still still calls me for my opinions about life

Thesame Mama who once attempted to break open a papaya
with her bare hands, because i was so hungry
i remember...
Thesame woman who had multiple jobs and 5 kids,
Thesame woman who managed to pay through way through ....
highschool, university...
a woman in an African country
This woman who consults me with her issues,
but never did she bring that topic up again.

"dad, wait! i really dont wanna hear anymore. You may stop calling me all you like if you dont like what i'm about to say because frankly, i wont stand to be disrespected! i mean- here you are being a hypocrite, telling me its "much better" to marry a naija man when YOURSELF are a naija man AND u didnt treat ma mom well! how dare you! you are here, calling me up to preach something that you yourself have failed at. LET THIS BE THE LAST TIME you speak to me about such an issue! Being a naija doesnt make a man a good husband. EVEN YOU have proved that. so respect me enough to at least, respect my opinion as a grown adult. If i do make a mistake, its fine. life isnt about mistakes- but about learning. thanks."

years later, ma Dada is still ma Dada.
The same man who would tickle me silly
i'd laugh till i cried
i'd roll on the living room floor
he'd give me his left overs
he'd bribe me. give me a five naira bill, in exchange for a bold dare-
"go slap ur sister in her face"
and i'd know better.
because the first time i did, not only did Ambition beat me shitless
but my daddy also scolded me, for being so stupid
"yes i told you to, but if i told you to jump off the balcony, wonld you do that too? dont you know the difference between right and wrong?"
he laughed at me, that husky deep throat of his
bears the coldest, yet heartiest storngest laughter
it comes from outside of him
it comes somewhere from beneath him
the source of his voice,
is the earth we thread on.
With a voice like a firery thunder,
he laughed at me, as he pulled me closer, hugging me.
"oya pele"

i remember...
Thesame man who'd beat mom into one too many uncounscious episodes,
Thesame one who i have now come to forgive
Thesame one who manages to reoffend
Thesame one who somehow, thinks he deserves that "fatherly" role
Thesame one whose love remains so unporportioned

Thesame one who i cant help but love
and hope someday, can heal, with.
My first love. My dad, never did bring the topic up again.