MY LANDLADY AND I
MY LANDLADY'S BEST FRIEND
SHORT STORY: A RISK FOR LOVE


MY LANDLADY AND I
The piece you are about to read, is a true life story spiced with creativity to make it interesting, entertaining and memorable. Enjoy as you read.

Here is a true life account of my experience with Lady Roseline Ebunoluwa Olorunfemi. Her dear friend, Mr. Olorunfemi introduced me to her in the mid-80s. How long will he be staying she queried. I cut in and said Nine (9) months Ma. She helped me with my luggage and showed me to the guest room.



While the negotiation ensued between her and her friend, I stole several looks at Lady Rose, she was a beauty to behold. Her kind of beauty is not one you find every day; she qualifies for the African queen described by Nigeria music sensation Tuface Idibia in his song AFRICAN QUEEN. Her dark skin glimmers. My eyes coined the adjective “Duduyemi” to describe her.

After her friend’s departure, she confirmed to me that she was not charging me a dime for the accommodation. In her words, it is my pleasure to have you under my roof.

Lady Rose, was exceptionally hospitable, I am yet to experience the kind of hospitality she showed me. I had hardly settled when she rushed into the kitchen, peeled a half tuber of yam, sliced them into small pieces, washed them and put them in pot. As the yam boiled on the gas cooker, she showed me to the bathroom.

While having my shower, I heard a sound synonymous to mortar and pestle, I mused in my heart; I hope Lady Rose is not pounding yam by herself. I do not expect a queen like her to put herself through all that stress.

Knowing that I was whole heartedly welcomed by my host, I felt at home naturally. After my bath, I freshened up and wore a causal look in a blue shirt and black jean trouser. I heard a soft knock at my door, who is there, I queried? The response I got was, “Your food is ready”. I was not expecting her to prepare my meals, after providing me with such comfortable accommodation. I will be asking too much to be a pest on her for nine months.

The aroma of her soup hit me on my nose, this left me salivating. Ma, don’t worry about food, you should not have put yourself through all that stress for my sake. You should have waited for me to pound the yam. Her face was lit with smiles, her silence spoke these words, “it’s my pleasure”.



I took my place at the dining table, the sight of the food was one to behold - you find such on the banquets for nobles. My bowels emptied themselves. I ate with patience; I did not want to finish the food in a hurry. The soup was made from waterleaf and ugwu leaves, spiced with stocked fish, dry fish and other assorted meat. The soup reminded me of the menus I read about Calabar soups at “heaven bookshop”.

At nightfall, I retired to my room; I spent the rest of the night admiring the architectural master piece of its interior. Everything was just perfect, the paintings, the furniture, beddings e.t.c

On the wall hung a photo of Lady Rose and Mr. Olorunfemi. Another was one of her, Mr. Olorunfemi and two beautiful kids. She later introduced them as Ayodeji and Oluwatoyin.

Mr. Olorunfemi who introduced me to her was always checking on me, asking after my wellbeing and confirms if I am of good conduct. He worked with Nigeria Agricultural and Cooperative Bank, now Bank of Agriculture (BOA). His office was not so far away, I guess this afforded him the opportunity to visit her during his break hours.

As the months rolled by, I thought what will become of me at the end of nine months. I did not want to believe I will forgo the enjoyment that characterized my present accommodation. Food, light, water…. Just name it.

At the end of nine months, it was time to leave my accommodation; the thought of it saddened me. I worked up a plan. On the 16th of April 198?…., I locked myself up in my room. Madam rose screamed at my name but I did not respond to her call. She screamed help!!! at the top of her voice, this coincided with Mr. Olorunfemis visit. After she briefed him what was happening, he hurried to his car and drove off.



In a short while, he was back with a Man wearing white clothes and 3 other women who I later learnt to be Doctor and nurses. The doctor and the others wore a finger like material on their hands. I watched all that transpired while peeping through the key hole. They were determined to force the door open.

The man in white was their lead; he shouted the word PUSH!!! Whenever he did, I felt a heavy force trying to pull down the door to my room. In the bid to have a clearer view of what was happening, I decided to peep through the opening between the door and the floor. Unfortunately, the Man in white was also nursing the same thought with me.

As soon as I put my head to the ground, our eyes meet; he quickly grabbed me by the head. The opening was just enough to force me out of my room. I could not hold back my tears, the tears took their source from two thoughts. The first, “is this how to pay mama Rose for her kindness?” The other, “I have to wake to the reality of self-survival”.

The doctor gently pulled me by the head, afterwards he held me in his arms like a warrior who had just overcame his enemy. He walked up to my host and presented me to her. The looks in her eyes were those of gratitude, excitement, joy and love. They seem to mean, “Thank God he is safe and alive”. Her screams, tears had made way for smiles that characterized her person.



Having seen the look in her eyes, my fears melted away. She held me in her arms and feed me with pure milk which I was later taught in biology to be COLOSTRUM. The End – See how kind my Landlady was.

I dedicate this writing to the memory of my mother, Mrs. Remilekun Ebunoluwa Olorunfemi. 2013 makes it 10 years she departed this world. I have other creative writings inspired by her. I will put them together to create an online memorial for her.

TRIBUTE TO MY MOTHER
Ten years ago, we grieved about your physical absence from us. We wore heavy hearts, teary eyes and sullen faces to register our displeasure with death.

Ten years on, we celebrate your life. A life best described by one word, “SELFLESS”. You came into our lives and showed us love. You loved and loved until it hurt. Many times, we wondered if you ever had time for yourself; you dedicated much time making others happy.

You are our definition of a virtuous woman, the good thing God blessed our lives with. You were the fruitful vine from which Ayodeji, Oluwatoyin and Oloruntobiloba sprang.

Your few but affirmative words continue to make huge imparts in our lives as they did in the lives of all those who crossed your path.

The memories we share evokes thankful hearts. We recognize your impart in our present lives and so reiterate, “To live in our hearts, is not to die”. Remilekun, Ebunoluwa Olorunfemi LIVES ON!!!

Continue to rest in the bossom of the Lord.
Fondly remembered by: Husband A.M Olorunfemi, Children, friends and relatives.


MY LANDLADY'S BEST FRIEND

I wrote this on my Dad birthday.

This is a continuation of a previous true life story “My Landlady and I”. In that account, I narrated the role Mr. Olorunfemi played in securing a place for me at Lady Rose residence. She turned out to be an exceptional landlady; she offered me her place for free.

During my first nine month stint, I caused her a lot of inconvenience; her cheerful and happy disposition remained. I got the greatest surprise of my life, 7 days after I caused a scene – Remember the man in white gloves?

On that fateful day, the house was packed full. Friends, family members and associates of my landlady gathered for an event I had no prior knowledge about, the gathering was presided over by a man in white robes, I later learnt he was a catholic priest. Exciting dance steps met the popular tunes streamed from the DJs stereo. There was plenty to eat and drink. I wondered what the celebration was about.

The party turned out to be a naming ceremony, organized on my behalf. It was at that party I got the names Babatunde and Oloruntobiloba.

The day after the party, I thanked Lady Rose for her kindness. She made me understand that the event was funded by Mr. Olorunfemi. I wondered why he had developed so much interest in me. At this point, I recalled their dance at the naming ceremony, how he held her by the hips with her head leaned on his chest. There was so much affection between them and I could tell they were no ordinary friends. It did not take long to discover his true identity.

[img]http://www..com/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/suckling-child.jpg[/img]

Later that evening, while having dinner, sucking natural milk, freshly served by my amiable landlady Mr. Olorunfemi walked in. He tickled my cheeks and planted a kiss on Lady Rose left cheek. How are you honey, he said. Lady rose smiled at him, then with her tender eyes fixed on me she said, Babatunde, say hello to your daddy. I stretched my arms towards him; he took me in his arms.

Today March 2 is my Dad’s birthday; Join me to wish him a prosperous year ahead. Also on this day 2003, I read the last letter from Lady Rose (My darling Mother). The letter was delivered by dad – on a visit to my boarding school, FGC Ugwolawo. Dads visit was a surprise, I was not expecting either of my parents, I had told them to send whatever gifts they have through other visiting parents – I was in Senoir Secondary 2.

I ran my eyes over mums note with joy; written in her typical curvy, slanting hand writing. In my reply, I thanked her for the enclosed naira notes and the cooked meal sent through dad. Also, I thanked her for the food flask, fried meat and money earlier sent in February through my friend Daniel Musa. To conclude my letter, I wrote the song titled, “sweet mother I no go forget you”.

The month of March brings me mixed feelings; a month in which my father, immediate elder brother, his wife and a great friend Taiye mofolorunsho celebrate their birthdays and one in which I remember the live and times of My loving mother Ebunoluwa, Remilekun Olorunfemi and My Darling Aunty Shola Adebudo.

SHORT STORY: A RISK FOR LOVE
At the end of a routine antenatal consultation with one of his patients, Dr Bassey cleared his throat and spoke in a mild tone, madam, from the scan and test results there is a high probability for complications during child birth.



What exactly is the problem doctor? She stared on with a blank face as Dr Bassey made an attempt to simplify the medical terms associated with her condition; he also requested that she comes in the company of her husband during her next appointment.

She could not hide her concerns; her radiant face had turned pale. She had been married for 5 years now. A mother of 2 boys; Ayodeji and Oloruntoyin carrying her third pregnancy and hoped the baby will be her kind.

There is no love lost between her and Baba Deji, her husband, confidant, friend and lover. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she was worried. Darling, what is the matter? Was there a long queue of patients at the hospital? She told him what the doctor had said. Put your mind to rest dear, everything will be fine, Okay…….. He said assured.

On her next appointment, the couple visited the gynecologist as agreed. His final words, professional advice left them in shock, “Terminating the pregnancy is the best solution. Madam, your safety is my primary concern”. In his earlier analysis, he explained that the other alternative to terminating the pregnancy will put the mother, child survival at 50-50. The couples thanked Dr. bassey and promised to communicate their decision on the next appointment date.

They drove home in silence, until Baba Deji broke the silence, Darling, don’t worry, everything will be fine. For him, he had reached a conclusion in his mind, which was, to heed the Doctors advice. His decision was founded on the thought that losing the baby will be great pain but losing his wife or both is unbearable.

Later that night, after much emotional talks, surge, he spoke in an emotion laden voice; honey I can’t afford to lose you, our marriage is barely 6 years old. Think of our children Ayodeji and Oloruntoyin. It is in our best interest to take the Doctors advice. You are my support, my best friend, taking the 50 -50 alternative is too much risk to bear.

These words did not make her feel any better; he wiped her face as hot tears forced their way down her cheeks. Pulling her close, he whispered, “do this for us, I love you so much”.

Her mind was made up, to carry the pregnancy for nine months; it was not an easy decision for her. In her prayers she prayed that if the pregnancy will cost her life, God should spare the baby.

I had only known her for few months but the bond of friendship between us had grown strong enough to notice she was disturbed. She shared her concerns with me but did not seek my opinion. If she had, I would have taken the same position as her husband and the doctor – Men are created to think logically.


She went into labour on the third week of April 198? , she was delivered of a bouncing baby boy Olorunfemi Babatunde who weighed 4 kg at birth.

The woman in this story is no other person than my amiable, loving, darling mother. She took a huge risk to carry me for 9 months daring all the consequence.

Dearest, darling mum,
3rd of March, 2014 made it 11 years you completed your course on earth. Thank you for the risk of love; for giving me a chance to live. What love can be greater than this; for a human to be willing to lay down his/her life for a fellow human?

The tears I shed at birth were in awe of your love, sacrifice and a way to show my appreciation. How could you take such a risk? What if you had passed out? What if………………. So many what if’s mum.

When (Late) Rev. Fr. Barnabas Anikoh visited my school on the 4th of March 2003, with the news that my attention was urgently needed at home, I feared that either of my maternal, paternal grandma had passed way. How could I have thought it was you? I still read a letter from you on Mar 2, 2003 – which was delivered by dad. I learnt you smiled, laughed when you read the concluding paragraph of my reply mail “sweet mother, I no go forget you for the suffer wey you suffer for me”.

I LOVE YOU MUM.

I remember you today as always. Thank you for believing in me and for showing me much love.
We would meet again to part no more.
Your baby – Babaiyere

Note: The statement of fact in this story is the doctor’s advice, the other accounts are imaginations - I was in my mother’s womb when it all happened.

photo credit:dreamstime.com

STAY TUNED FOR PART 4

READ OTHER STORIES WRITTEN BY ME.
Like my facebook fanpage

so touching and insightful

Creative!! Very Very creative!

Marvelous!!!!