
Often times, when I speak with my mum, she tells me one person or the other asked after me. The fact that her restaurant was quite popular and I was quite the popular kid meant this happens quite often.
On a certain evening, I and my mum were talking on the phone when she mentioned that a certain someone had been asking after me repeatedly. I was about to brush it off, until she said this person seems to be someone who knows me from way back. She said she was quite sure she knows the person, but wasn’t sure from where.
Hoping it wasn’t someone I owed or have offended in the past, I asked my mum to describe her;
“She is of average height, average build, very black, like ‘black and shine’, soft-spoken, …”
“That is MB”. I screamed.
“Yes, that is what she called herself”.
I almost went crazy with excitement. I was hyperventilating. My mum kept telling me to calm down.
“Did she leave her phone number behind?” I asked.
“Do you think if I was giving you the phone number of everyone that asked after you, you will still have time for anything else?” She retorted.
“But mummy now”.
“Am I your secretary abi P.A?”
“If you want to be collecting number, come and put secretary in my shop, or employ me as one.” She continued.
I was too gassed up to be bothered by what she was saying. Sweet childhood memories of I, MB and Junior kept running through my mind.
I could still remember one morning when all three of us had left school for Junior’s house before the morning assembly started. He had told us his mum had just put to bed, and we wanted to go check on his baby sister. We were hardly up to six years old at this point.
“Ok Mummy. Please, when next she comes, give her my number and help me collect hers.”
“I’ll try”. She casually responded.
“Not try na! Just help me na. Please”. I begged.
“I will try na. I can’t promise, because I can easily forget.”
“Ok. Help me collect her number, and I will get you that your ice cream when next I’m coming over”
“You should have said so since now. I will make sure I do not forget.”
I knew my mum. It is this small “bribes” that get her moving. I just hope Buhari or EFCC doesn’t come after her for it.
But then, ice cream is the smallest price to pay to see MB again. She is worth a thousand, even a million ice creams. I just can’t wait.
Wilson Joshua is a Video Editor, Content Creator and Creative Writer.
Follow him on Twitter and Instagram. @IJoswil
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- Tagged: Childhood, Fiction, Friend, Friendship, MB, Mother, Pre-Reunion, Relationship, Reunion
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