Mmasi (A father's choice)

It was not until I saw her face that I recognized who she was. I had seen her picture on Daddy's phone before. I simply greeted them and walked past them before going to my room.

As soon as I walked in, I dropped my bag on the chair and went into the bathroom to wash my face. It was so sunny outside, and I was hot. Even though I needed a cold shower, I was too tired to take one.

After washing my face, I came out of the bathroom and began pulling my clothes off.

"I really need a cold shower," I thought to myself.

I picked up my clothes, put them in the basket, grabbed my towel, and went back into the bathroom to take a bath.

I turned on the shower, and as the water ran over my body, I felt a pleasing sensation wash over me. I was glad I had decided to bathe despite my tiredness.

As I stood under the running water, I thought about how my day had gone—from waking up, taking my bath, eating breakfast, and going to the bank to reactivate my ATM card, something I had been procrastinating about for weeks. I had finally done it.

Today wasn't particularly eventful, but at least I finished at the bank much quicker than I expected and decided to go for a walk. I knew Dad was home, so I didn't want to return immediately. Instead, I walked around the city of Ibadan for a while before heading home.

I was born in Lagos. It was there my parents got married. Although they were from Anambra State, they had spent most of their lives in Lagos.

When I was two, my mum passed away due to fibroids. I don't know much about it. All I know is that when I turned four, Dad had to send me to my maternal grandparents in Awka while he relocated to Ibadan.

They both took really good care of me. Living with my grandparents was a beautiful experience. They loved me and spent everything they had on me, even though Dad kept sending money. Every month, he came to visit me, and I was always happy to see him.

At that age, I couldn't understand the dynamics of family, so I didn't think a mother played such a significant role in my life. I also called my grandma "Mom." She was quite young then, and I actually thought she was my mother while Grandpa was her daddy. I couldn't fully understand why she and my dad didn't live together like married couples, but my little brain couldn't carry all that. So, I simply lived my life. I was only four.

When I turned six years old, Dad remarried. I remember because I was the little bride at his wedding. It was a big wedding. Aunty Amanda was really beautiful, and she smiled a lot.

I also got the chance to see my paternal grandmother. She made sure I stayed with her throughout the wedding. When the ceremony was over, I returned with her to my father's compound that night. I remember not seeing Dad and Aunty Amanda because they both slept in Dad's new house, while I slept in the old house with Grandma. Both houses were in the same compound.

I stayed there for three days before going back to Ibadan with Dad and his new wife.

The day we arrived, I went into Dad's room to keep my bag and saw her picture hanging on the wall.

"Mummy," I said, pointing at the framed photograph.

Just then, Dad walked in.

I turned to him with a smile.

"Look, Daddy, it's Mummy."

His face lit up as he nodded.

"Yes, baby. It's Mummy."

I chuckled.

I remembered her.

I knew I did.

Even though I called Grandma "Mom," I had forgotten what my mother looked like. But the moment I saw her picture, my little heart remembered.

"Where's Mummy?" my tiny voice echoed through the room.

Dad's face changed. He tried to smile, but he couldn't.

I turned around and saw Aunty Amanda standing quietly at the door, still holding her bag. She had been there the whole time.

When Dad noticed her, he carried me into his arms.

"Come on, Ada. Let's go to your room," he whispered.

As we walked out, Aunty Amanda smiled gently at me.

When we got to my room, Dad gently sat me on the bed before sitting beside me. He looked at me for a while, probably trying to gather the courage to answer my question.

"Baby... Mummy is not here. She's with God, okay?"

I didn't know what it meant for someone to be with God.

"When will she come back?" I asked.

"I don't know, but she's fine, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," I replied.

He smiled, kissed my forehead, and stared at me for a moment before leaving to get me something to eat.

During my stay with them, Aunty Amanda was warm. She hardly spoke, but she was kind. She helped me bathe, fed me, and even took me out for ice cream. Sometimes, when Daddy was away, she would take me to evening Mass, and on our way home, we would always buy fruit salad. I really liked her.

When the holiday was over and it was time for me to return to Awka for school, Aunty Amanda wanted me to stay and begin school in Ibadan, but Dad refused.

That night, I stood by the door and overheard them talking. Although they spoke softly, I could tell they were having a disagreement.

"I'm here. I'm not complaining. I can pick her up from school. Besides, I have a salesgirl. I'll drop her at home and return to my shop," Aunty Amanda said.

Dad remained hesitant.

"Who will look after her after you drop her at home? Please, Ama, I don't want to argue with you. She's my daughter, and she will go back to Awka. That's final. Allow me to decide for her. I want a wife, not a mother for my daughter. I know you love her, and I appreciate that, but I don't need you to play the role of a mother to her. Just let it be, please."

I didn't hear Aunty Amanda's voice again.

I turned around and went back to my room.

I didn't cry.

I loved living with my grandparents.

The next morning, Dad took me back to Awka and promised to come and visit me. He came once every month during the first four months of his marriage, then once every two or three months. Apart from that, he called to check up on me.

Then, suddenly, he stopped coming altogether.

He only called to check up on me.