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It would be Saturday in three days time and I still haven't asked my mother for permission to go. She wouldn't let me go, I assumed. She never let me go anywhere. She is just too... what's the word? Yeah, overprotective. I hate it, I'm not a kid anymore, I'm a 17 year old teen for crying out loud. In a year's time, I would officially be recognized as an adult as per Nigerian law so why must I continue to be treated like a child?

I walked gingerly to her room. I always did that. For whatever reason I did this I couldn't tell tell. As far as I could remember, I had always done that. It comes instinctively to me. The door of her room was slightly ajar, I peered through the slightly open door. She was undressing...or dressing, I couldn't tell for sure. I moved my head closer to get a better look but my slight movement caused the door to open to creak.

"Who's there?", I heard my mother shout as she quickly drew some clothes over herself. I wondered why she asked that question when there could only be one answer. She was aware that I was indoors and even though I was not an only child, my only sibling, my elder brother was studying in the University of Lagos.

"It's me, mama", I walked in, still walking gingerly but slowly this time, sort of like a puppy that was recently scolded.

"Oh", she sighed. "I thought there was a buglar."

In my mind, I laughed. Why would any buglar want to burgle a mud house when there are several mansions stone throws away.

"What do you want?", She asked as she began to wear her clothes. She didn't need to hide herself. We were of the same gender. When she saw that I didn't say anything, she asked in her usual loud voice, "I asked you a question, Tayo."

"I...I...errm...", I didn't know why I was stammering. My hands began to shake vigorously.

My mom watched me for a while then asked again, "What do you want?"

I still couldn't say anything reasonable. My stammering went on. My shaking became more vigorous.



"You can't go", my mom said. I stared at her. What did she mean? Where can't I go? "You can't go to that party. I forbid you."

"Is this woman a witch? How did she know I came here to ask her about the party?", I asked in my mind. I didn't recall telling her about it.

"I saw the invitation on your vanity. You can't go. It's too dangerous."

"When is it never dangerous for me to go somewhere?" I don't know what came over me but for the first time in forever I actually talked back at her. I don't know where the courage came from.



"Young woman, what has gotten into you? How dare you talk back to me? Listen and listen well, you will not go to that party."

"But, mum...", I paused. The word "mom" sounded strange to me. Was she really my mother? Why does she always prevent me from doing the things I loved.

"If you say another word in protest, I would slap you into another nationality."

I stomped my foot on the ground and walked out. I would have slammed the door loudly but I was scared of my mother's rough hands. She could really beat the black out of me if I showed anymore signs of disrespect. Even as I walked, I fear if something solid was being hurled towards my head. I went into my room and closed the door. I would go to that party, whether she liked it or not...

To be continued...

All images used in this article are for illustrative purposes alone.
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Original post: https://froster123..com/2020/09/my-mother-wouldnt-let-me-go-to-party-so.html

Someone is about to be unfortunate. Eeyan kan fe se oriibuu.

naija4life247:
Someone is about to be unfortunate. Eeyan kan fe se oriibuu.

I presume that person is you.