The year was 2002, and Mommy woke me up that Saturday morning differently; the taps were more gentle than usual, I had to get up. “Good morning ma” I greeted. “Hmmm hmmm how are you?” “I’m fine mommy.” I put my hands together and bent my head to say the Lord’s Prayer. And she waits with a smile. Once I’m done she pulls out money wrapped tight in a handkerchief and folds it into my right palm. “This is 15,000 naira. Tomorrow is Fathers Day, and I forgot to get something for una papa. So on your way back from school, branch Oshodi market, and buy a wristwatch. Fine one o” she instructs me and I nod, diligently listening. The only problem was, that Saturday was Kalu’s party. And Blessing made me promise I wasn’t gonna miss it, I started thinking of what to wear, my mom calls me back. “Obioma! You hear me?” She asks. I take a deep breath, “Yes ma I hear you. Black leather wristwatch.” I said, and put my feet into my flip flops. “You know say he get 2 brown already. And 3 chain watch. Make we add black join am. He go take am dey wear native for weddings. Make he see the one he go use dey change” my mom continues to patronize the love of her life, and I want to roll my eyes but, I dare not.
At 2:45 p.m., our Saturday classes were done, and school was over. You see we had to go to school on Saturday’s to make up for an incident that would have killed us, had it not occurred on a Sunday. The infamous Ikeja Cantonment bomb blast of January 27, 2002. We lost the school facility, and had to share space with the primary school for a few months. Long story. So; Blessing rushes into my class from hers, “quick, show me your dress Obioma.” She jumps on my chair, a happy child. I produce my nice jeans and tops stuffed deep in my school bag, and we rush out excited to get to this party. If only we knew we’d have the rest of our life to party. Lol. Good times.
Party got lit at 4, and 5 of us volunteered to make cocktails, Gladness Azu, Azudialo George, Gregory Whyte, my humble self Obioma Peters, and Big Charles. At 6:30 p.m. I knew I had to run home. I was already in trouble, but if I don’t get that wristwatch, then I’m dead.
I get to the ever busy Oshodi market at 7, and get a good bargain. 5,500 naira was all I spent on the black leather wristwatch. And 100 naira on a nice case with that cute foam to make it look expensive. I wrote a lovely poem but it didn’t stop the beatings I got for getting home at 8:30 p.m., and lying about being held up in traffic on a Saturday in Lagos, from Oshodi to Egbeda. “From 3 in the afternoon to 8:30 n’abali Obioma!” My father yells with 2 canes in his hand. The stupid lies we told back then as children. Hahaha. He loved that wristwatch though. He wore it for years, till the leather became threads. HAPPY FATHERS DAY TO EVERY BELOVED DAD OUT THERE. We are all here because you came.😉 God bless youuuuu!
Nwanyi-ocha 