DAWN

 I am gradually realizing that my street  seems to develop this strange stench over the years and this stink increases with time. The filth reflecting in the worn out clothes of the children aimlessly roaming the streets can choke one to death. From the famous Razzi beer parlor down the street to the GreenLand brothel adjacent my mother's bar, these places birth the disgusting stench  of my environment  and gradually it is becoming inhabitable.  As I struggle to jump across piles of dirt littered all over, I could feel different hands and shoulders all over me. Everyone is always in a hurry in a space so small. I quickly stretched my hand out to greet a fellow who stretched his hand out on a moving bike. We smiled at each other. 

I got home at exactly 6:30pm and the last thing on my schedule is resting. I took out my shoes that were already soiled with water, dirt and oil. I raised the curtain of our one room apartment and I was greeted by an empty room. Again, my younger siblings failed to lock the door. They left the door unlocked three days back and yet again today. I was filled with  rage and was determined to spank thier little butts when they return from thier ritual of daily evening plays. There were little thieves all over the neighborhood  and even when one is fully conscious, he has to keep watch because the fine watch on your left wrist might be sold before you turn right and realised it is gone. You must keep your side bag in front of you else you will be left with a dangling rope and the bag disintegrated from the rope that holds it. You must be wise and of course patient to survive in our street. 

As I gather the firewood in the kitchen towards cooking dinner,  I kept memorizing how tommorow will be. It was evident I was gradually developing anxiety disorder for one issue after the other keeps racing through my mind. I will wake up tommorow by 5am,  prepare breakfast for my younger siblings, dress them for school then clean the house and wash the dishes. My morning chores  will end before 10am then I'll sleep for two hours before joining my mother at her bar. I will stay at the bar till 5 or sometimes 6pm while my mother rests at home and prepares lunch. Dr. Charles said my mother needs enough rest. Infact all diabetic patients do and so I take over her bar from 12 to 6pm then I return to fix dinner but if there is a  leftover from lunch, it serves as dinner then I  help my siblings with thier homework and put them to sleep before my mother closes for the day at 10pm. 

Ever since my mothers condition worsened, I have missed out on lots of night events in the neighborhood lately. I even missed out the famous annual ghetto fiesta at Razi. Normally I would dash out at 10pm when she returns but since her last heart attack, I have traded night fun to keep watch over her. My  mother had a heart attack last month. My younger siblings were sleeping like logs and my mother laid half dead panting like a cheetah amidst gun shots. I returned home from a party  to pick a jacket after i got cold only to meet my mother at the mercy  of death. This scenario altered my night life and I haven't attended a night party in the last one month. Even the nearest party. 

There was no leftover from lunch so I am making dinner tonight.  After cooking, I tidied the kitchen with so much frustration. Four households in my compound share the only kitchen. I was always tidying the kitchen and this act doesn't please me. We live in a flat with four rooms. In the first room is a bachelor who changes his  girlfriends as often as he changes his bedsheets. Unknown  to him, we call him "Uncle with many girls". He is a mechanic who is fond of getting in trouble with his customer's. He changes cars yet can't afford a bicycle. In the next room is Mummy Ajabo. She's a timid woman in her early thirties. She has only one child. A daughter Ajabo who is 4 years old. I always wonder how a nice woman as such ended up with a drunkard of a husband who consistently beats the hell out of her. I feel she's being weak and stupid while my mother  says she's a real woman. We occupy the third room. My mom, my three younger siblings and I. We own a big bed which squeezes itself in the right corner of the room. A centre table with a television is placed by the left while bags containing our clothes are sucked under the wooden lift that supports our bed. Our foodstuffs perfectly fit in our cupboard alongside other utensils. My mother and my youngest brother sleep on the bed while my younger sisters aged 7 and 10 sleep on the mat with I. The last room in our compound is occupied by Mama Funke. An old widow with 3 unmarried daughters who barely sleep at home. They wear and parade with the most fashionable outfits yet they feed like the criminals in the prison as my mother will say. In my compound,  we all share one toilet and bathroom just as we share one kitchen. 

My siblings returned home at quarter past 7pm just when I had taken my bath. I have been noticing how they were beginning to stink lately. I could sense the stench in the neighborhood around them. I ordered them to  take thier baths which they did after Osifa the oldest of them pulled buckets of water from the well nearby. I served them dinner.  Boiled Yam and  red oil which they ate together. They were sweating so they took off thier clothes. The girls had thier underwears on while Tami our four year old brother hurried to the bed with his bare buttocks. "Sister can I climb on the bed with Tami before mother returns"?  beckoned Kiki my seven year old younger sister. "No " I replied without looking at her. Meanwhile,  Tami was making faces at them and mocking them for sleeping on the floor while he enjoyed the comfort of the bed. They were pained. I could sense it. But who cares?  Its just a bed. They should be pained about other grave misfortunes of ours not over a bed and Tami was silly to belittle them but he's  just a child. "Stay put on that bed and sleep. " I yelled at him and he was calm immediately . My siblings were soon fast asleep and while Osifa stretched herself towards me, I could see her nipples protruding forth. It was evident she's approaching teenage hood. 

I aimlessly roamed from one end of the bed to the other. Sleep evaded. I couldn't sleep especially not after the revelation I heard on my way back from my mother's bar today. I was determined to stay awake  till 10pm when she returns. I was determined to confront her on why she never told me our father had return. At least I knew why he left but I wanted to know why he was seen in the neighborhood after four years. He left while Tami was a baby and today while returning from her bar, I could hear the women in green land brothel whispering "That's his first child. Am not sure whether she has seen him yet. " While I entered the compound, Mama Ajabo looked at me and her eyes were saying "Your father has returned " but she said "Where is your mother instead" and she knew my mother takes the night shift at her bar.