Motherhood

When It Rained At The Bridge

   

It rained last night, I was caught up in it and it also took me to the past.

I remember I went to the market with my mother, a last minute decision. “Oyinade!” she screamed, “won’t you go with me?”

Puzzled, “Go with you again? I thought we live in the same house, see each other everyday, watch TV, go to church, dine and pray together daily. Do I have to go to the market with you again?

Oh! I know, she wants to show off. I figured every mother does that. No problem, let’s go tell everyone how her shy daughter has grown.

It took a while to dress up, at least to satisfy her. We set out, she drove all the way. Come to thin of it, I still don’t know why I have a phobia for the wheels. That’s aside.

We got to the market and she introduced me at every stall before she made purchases. I recall a woman that sells fabrics told my mother she had a son but she’s afraid to introduce us to each other since rumour has it that educated women come with a very expensive bride price and she may not be able to pay.

On our way back home, near “the bridge”, it suddenly started pouring without initial cloudy signs. “The bridge” that linked our area to the other side of town was still under construction. There was flood everywhere; we had to park our car carefully. And there, I was stuck with my mother in the only small space that appeared to be safe.

Truth. We observed some silence; we didn’t have much to talk about not because there was nothing to say but because we’ve not been talking for a while now. I tried to break the silence which was staring hard in my face, I asked her “Mommy, what’s it like working with the government?” She looked at me, smiled and turned her face away before answering “That question is rather late, I’ve worked with the government for 15 years, how come you are asking now?” “Smart woman!” my plan didn’t work!

Silence prevailed again, then I turned my face to the door and there was mist on the glass. Aha! Finally, I found my playground until this car moves again.

Excited, I reached to write playfully on the glass with my finger. She noticed and asked “What will you write there now, doll baby?” I replied “All your names I know”. She laughed loudly and replied “Ok, let’s play a game, you’ll write all my names on your side of the glass while I’ll write all yours on my side as well. Whoever remembers all will win, ready? Go!”

Of course she won. She was there when I was given those names while I wasn’t there when she was given hers, Hilarious! I figured I wasn’t holding my breath any longer, I was enjoying being stuck with her, lovely moment.

Then the rain stopped and we chatted all along while she drove home. Telling me her celebrated and high moments so far in life, I listened with rapt attention.

Yesterday, when I remembered it all, I stopped running in the rain, let my breath out, and let it beat my skin. I can tell you, rain does come with blessings, maybe the answer to all we’ve been praying for.

Writer – “Oyinade is calm, passionate and detailed. She enjoys writing, traveling, listening to people and paying attention to her environment & colours. A brand executive, she constantly strives for quality, excellence, integrity & accountability. She currently works full time with a leading marketing communications firm in Lagos Nigeria.” Check her blog at www.topazandaqua.com

Photocredit – Stockbyte


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0 Comments

  1. kiirushiro@gmail.com'

    sheeze

    November 18, 2010 at 2:09 pm

    a good read,…. mothers are the best in the world.

  2. raysflavor@aol.com'

    udoka

    November 24, 2010 at 3:29 pm

    nice..cool…brilliant weaving of words.well done

  3. halimababe@yahoo.com'

    halima

    December 2, 2010 at 11:09 am

    interesting story

  4. re_thots@yahoo.com'

    rethots

    December 9, 2010 at 10:14 am

    Beautiful….

  5. chiomachuka@yahoo.com'

    Fairy Godsister

    December 15, 2010 at 1:32 pm

    Awww, you just made me miss my mom more!

  6. reachher2001@yahoo.com'

    Mariam Opanuga

    December 15, 2010 at 5:08 pm

    Nice one, mothers’s are the best gift of ds world. I love my mom…

  7. arewa81@yahoo.com'

    omo'ba adeteju atanda-ajimotokan

    December 16, 2010 at 6:08 pm

    well written…..

  8. maryanne@mummytales.com'

    Mummy Tales - A Kenyan Mom's Blog

    September 12, 2012 at 1:13 pm

    Such a sweet story!

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