Day 53/365: Abiku

Day 53/365: Abiku

Mama looked at me, her eyes full of the emptiness that I have become accustomed to, because of my continuous comings. I remember the first time I came, a bouncing baby boy to open her womb that her in-laws thought was sealed off by God. They danced, wriggled their big buttocks till the moon went to sleep. And Mama's eyes were filled with joy, there was confidence too. She had become a mother. She had a son to shut the mouths of all her enemies. Then I died. Returned to the earth with a smug smile spread across my lips. This was only the beginning.

I came back to Mama again and again and once more. This was my fourth coming and the steely confidence she once had in her eyes had slowly disappeared. Fear and anxiety had slowly replaced it. Whenever Mama looked at me, she looked like she was expecting me to drop dead at any moment as I always did. She has been "waiting" for five years now, not letting herself celebrate how long I have lived this time around.

She didn’t know that I had chosen to stay this time around. That my skin had grown tired of the lacerations on my face. She didn’t know that I was tired of being dragged through the unending routine. She didn’t know that I had chosen to stay, chosen to live and continue enjoying her life-changing Egusi soup.