Wild West of the Heart

"Have you called James yet?" Mary asked, halting to drop his bottle of water on the table. Akin sat up in his chair, shaking his head stiffly. He didn't even have the manners to utter a response.

Mary hummed, knowing pride was the reason he still hadn't. But you couldn't blame him, it really sucks to have to ask your younger brother for support. Especially when it came to money problems. And Mary constantly asking didn't help either. But you couldn't blame her either.

As soon as Ola drew closer, she knew she had to switch up the subject, so she just backed down.

"Ola" She called, as he came out with the tray of food in his arms. He gently placed it across the dining table before looking up to his mother. "Your aunt Titi says i should greet you" She added and he nodded. "Send my regards too" He wasn't quite sure what he was to say next. His mother smiled.

"That's why you're like her favorite nephew. She normally calls him her fav oyinbo" There was that grin across Mary's face and Ola just faked his.

If he got a naira whenever anyone called him an oyinbo, he'd have more than a few thousand nairas.

It means white man, and it can mean no skin at times. When Ola was abroad, he found it difficult to fit in with people different from himself. It should have not even been a thing, but it was.

And here, in Nigeria, with people calling him names all around. Like Texas boy, Oyinbo, he began to feel like a foreigner again, even in his own country. He'd even argue with people who disagreed that he was actually from here. It was beyond exhausting, yet all he could give his mom-

was a false smile. It was all he ever did.

Akin cleared his throat, still as invested in the tv as he was before. And Mary walked back into the kitchen, which was like her second room in the house. His eyes darted to the documentary like show on the television and how his father was well concentrated. He even had food fall off his plate in the process and he just hummed.

Mary came back with a plate of hers and she took a seat just beside her husband. She wanted to see what was so fascinating about this show that her husband looked forward to every once in a year. It was like sort of a rewind through the years.

"To be honest " Akin started, biting into his meat and scrunching on the piece. "To be honest, i miss the old Nigeria” His cheeks were full, whilst he talked. "That is a very bizarre thing to say, Akin"

It really was, because the old Nigeria was anything but peaceful. There was war, bloodshed. And there were no such days that were as calm as these. And there was slavery, and colonialism.

"I don't know. The Old Nigeria was just " He didn't even have the right words. "It's unlike today that everyone's so different. Everything is different between legalizing what is not, children are just the opposite of how they're raised. It's revolting, watching the news. There's corruption and alot of all these vices that we learned from the Western people. The whites-" Ola was genuinely invested and he moved forward, his ears echoing his words.

"Legalizing what is not?" He echoed and Akin nodded. The thing about public holidays also, is that it gives room for a lot of day drinking, and Akin had just a few. "You know, they look at today as the modern times, when we have so much more ahead of us. It's like everyone's in a hurry to grow up" Now, there was some religion behind where Akin was headed, though it was a bit of a blur to Ola.

“You see young people like you doing what they shouldn't. And it's absolutely normal. It's really absurd, i was watching a movie one day and there's women being attracted to other women” He turned to Mary. "Can you imagine that?" He asked her.

"It's revolting even to think about it. It's why i say we're in the last days. Jesus has to come back soon"

"I really cannot❞ Mary replied, as she stared at me from the corner of her eyes. "And there's people like Jazzlyn and it's so normalized now that people can't see the sin. How would a man choose to dress as a woman? It's in the bible, it's literally in the “

"I can't believe you right now" Ola scoffed from his lips as Mary glared at the bottle of gulder squeezed at the edge of the table. "Akin" She called, forgoing her plate of food and sitting up. Whenever she called his name like that, it was either out of care or caution. Ola felt his eyes go wet, truth is, as much as he knew that people don't change, he wanted to strongly believe that his father had. But he hadn't.

"I can't believe you right now" He shook his head.

"It's because you went to Texas, saw things through the oyinbo's eyes. It's not how it's supposed to be. The atrocities have been normalized and that's why Jesus has to come back soon-" "How are you still with this man?" Ola muttered.

"It's a sign of the times" Akin knocked off his glass of water and it spilled to the carpets. "That's enough" Mary chastised, getting on her feet. Akin seldom ever drank during the day, and maybe it was because of recent events he felt he had to. But he was not the same person when he was drunk.

And Mary knew.

She wouldn't like to find out for the second time.

"Ola, he's drunk. Please don't make it that big of a deal-" She begged her son, knowing he wasn't the one in the wrong. "You know, i wanted to so badly believe that you had changed. That he had changed"

"It doesn't make any sense how you do it: Being with someone as shallow and backward minded as him. As the man i call my father" Ola yelled out loud enough that there was a crack in his voice. "Excuse me" Akin flared up. "Watch the way you talk to your father" Mary intervened, grabbing his glass in her hands. She brushed past Ola. "Stop taking his side mum. Stop taking his side" "It's not about taking sides, Ola" She yelled. "It's about peace. It's about peace, and ever since you got here, it's like you don't want that" She added and Ola felt his shoulders fall. "What?" He asked.

She quieted, before turning her back. "Is that really what you think of me?" "Your mother's right. It's ever since you got to Texas. You've become this completely different person that we don't even know" He watched his mother disappear behind the kitchen door and he looked to Akin.

He knew why he spoke this way, it was what had happened before he came back to Nigeria. "I've always been like this, dad. I never changed, and i hope you realize that- Ola's voice went low. "And this is how you've always been too. Uncle James always said it. I'm just mature enough to realize it now"

"What?" Akin walked forward while Ola took a step back. He had a stench of booze ooze out from his lips. "James?" He echoed. "Why doesn't he become your father then, since now you seem t—" "Maybe i wish. Sometimes-" The door opened.

"All the time. Maybe all the time i wish that he was my father. I'd trade him anyday for you because he was the father i needed" Ola shouted from his lips.

"He's a hundred times the father that you'd ever b-" Before he could complete that statement, Akin dashed him a slap across his face. He whimpered, his head turning to the side as his cheeks reddened.

"Akin" Mary cautioned and they both just stood there. Ola withheld the urge to throw himself at his father. It was the third thing about public holidays, there was always a fight. Because when the whole house is full, and everyone's around, there was more food than tolerance.

"James would never lay a finger on me"

"That's why you're like this" Akin turned away.

"Sometimes it's hard to be believe you're related to such people" He turned to his mother, as Akin threatened to strike him again. Olamide's eyes grew moist as Mary stepped in front of them.

"Don't you tou-" She pushed a lump down her throat as she clenched her chest. Her lips parted to release a groan and she fell into the chair.

"Mum" Ola yelled, wiping his eyes. Akin stepped back, sniffling his nose also. Ola leaned forward to hold his mother in his arms. Her breathes grew short as her eyes drew to close. "Mum-" Ola yelled, not knowing what to do. "Dad, do something" He yelled to Akin, whose drunken state of mind couldn't process all of these. He just stepped back as Olamide grabbed his phone in the couch. His fingers quivered over the 911 numbers.

And he was trembling. His mom was stiff now, sunk into the cushion and her hand that was around her chest, lifelessly fell to the grounds.

Never in a million years did Ola think of something like this to happen. But like i said, it's what life is. Sometimes it comes at you, like a reminder that you shouldn't get comfortable. That you shouldn't relax.

We feel we're invincible, but life's laughing around the corner. When will we realize that tomorrow isn't assured, and the next second isn't either?

Anything could happen, even on a public holiday.

-

When you're young, you feel that everything's permanent. You feel that you're invincible, not essentially the superpower kind of invincible, but the kind that makes you think there's time. There's tomorrow.

And there's all your life to make plans. All your life which could mean many more years. It's why we procrastinate, because there's time. Isn't there?

And we don't make backup plans. We don't prepare for the worst of times and the terrible events that could very much happen. The disaster. The fact that the chances of them happening are low, doesn't rule out the possibility that they could. Terrible things like financial crisis, and being raped twice.

And alas, death.

You feel like you're invincible to these things until they actually happen. What then, will be left to savor? And why would you even want to? It's the thing about being young, you think it'll last forever.

That the way it is now, is how it'll always be. Bless you if your life's going good. Youthful. You think you have time, but you don't. Life might just come to snatch that rug from beneath you.

And remind you, that there's nothing like forever.

-

"We dream of a better Nigeria, a prosperous country where everyone lives in peace and dignity. We hope that a time will come, where there will be no poverty, no inequality, unemployment, corruption. We dream of a Nigerian that there's hope. That there's life, a better Nigeria "

The reporter's voice from the television echoed through the room, where Ola was slouched against the floor, his back against the sofa, and his hand in his mother's.

"You've reached the emergency hotline. Please hold while we assign a correspondent to you" The line said for the nth time as tears streamed down his face. Outside the house, the streets were quiet and there was no help he could get, other than this.

"Please hold on, mum" He muttered under his breath. Akin wasn't even there, he was gauging his intoxicated stomach out in the water closet. "Please hold on just a little while longer, Mary. Please " "We dream of Nigeria where the healthcare doesn't fail us. When the sectors don't fail us"

"Sorry for the delay. You've reached 911, what is your emergency?" Someone finally answered and Ola moistened his mouth. "Hello" His voice went coarse as he stood from the floor, looking at Mary. The door to the bathroom opened and Akin was just there. "It's-It's my mum" Ola replied.

"We dream of a brighter future for our children. And i dream that all Nigerians work to make these dreams a reality"

Nothing felt more real to Ola as he watched his mother get wheeled away. And it finally dawned on him, that there was no such as forever.

To be continued...