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UCHEIME'S DAIRY
TRAVEL DAY
The old Peugeot saloon car rattled along the dusty road, the engine coughed and sputtered every time the gear is changed. The dust from the road making it nearly impossible for the driver to see clearly. Thankfully, it was still too early in the day for heavy traffic along the Bende - Ohafia road. It was few days to Christmas and my family were travelling home for the holidays. For my siblings and I, this was the best time of the year. The entire family will gather to celebrate the holidays together, coming from all parts of the country. For the next few days, the family house will be filled to the brim with aunties, uncles and cousins. We looked forward to all the trouble we will get into together with our cousins. We especially couldn’t wait to see grandmother. Grandmother was father’s mother, she was the reason our holidays were complete. The matriarch of the family. We loved her uncontrollably and she knew it and loved us even more.
My siblings and I jumped around in the hot dusty car, unable to control our excitement. All five of us were packed in the back seat of the car, with father behind the wheel and mother in the passenger seat. The backseat was tight and too small. my brother and I took turns in carrying our little brother on our lap as there was no space to fit him in the backseat. We did not mind the hotness and tightness of the car, as we jumped around every time we saw a sign that shows we were close to home.
“You children should be quiet back there”.
Mother yelled, turning to give us one of her I will kill you looks. It worked for a few minutes as we quieted down. But we were soon back at it, jumping and falling over each other.
I was soon nodding off to sleep, my younger brother clutched tightly in my arms so he wouldn’t fall off my lap. The rest of the journey went by in a blur as I dozed on and off, waking at intervals by my siblings pushing and shoving.
I was startled awake suddenly when the car noisily fell into a porthole. We all flew up and then back down in our seats as father murmured something about the bad roads to mother. I groggily looked out the window to see that we were already at Ebem junction leading to Asaga. I sat up straight in my seat and pushed my little brother to my older brother to hold.
Soon, father turned the car into the Ugwu Iyi Ebi road, with the twin hills and the little stream in the valley. The car effortlessly went down the first steep hill, going up the opposite hill was not so easy. The car coughed, spewed out smoke and slowly made its way up the hill. Father was clearly struggling with the steering, his feet moving from pedal to pedal as he struggled to keep the car from rolling backward. With all the luggage in the trunk of the car, it was a surprise the car even started the ascent. After a lot of struggle and a lot of gears, father was able make it to the top of the hill. We shouted victoriously from the back seat, earning us a smile from father.
Few poles down the road, just before the turn leading to the house, father stopped the car by the side of the road, beside an old small building, and there she was, Mma Ucheime, our grandmother.
She was sitting in front of her tiny provision store, peeling melon that she sells at the weekly Afor market days. Spotting the car and us, she stood from the wooden bench, stepping outside to meet us. I looked at her from the window of the car, I wondered how she always looked so regal. So clean in her regular dressing of two-tier wrapper and blouse. Her hair always covered. She once explained it was so that she could pray whenever and wherever without bothering about how to cover her hair. She dares not disrespect God by praying with her hair open.
Standing in front of the shop, grandmothers smile grew wider as we ran from the car, stumbling over each other in our frenzy to reach her. We revered grandmother, she was perfect in our eyes. She was so important to us that even in our excitement to see her, we dare not all hug her at once, for fear of pushing her down. When it got to my turn, I hugged her tightly, my young heart filling with love. And she hugged me right back, squeezing me tightly to herself. I knew grandmother loved us very much, but I liked to think she loved me more, probably because I was named after her.
As we ran into the shop to share the candies and groundnuts grandmother always kept for us, she went to talk to our parents who were standing by the car, watching us with grandmother. I watched her with mother and father from the shop as I opened my pack of hard candy with my teeth and plopped one into my mouth. Grandmother’s face glowed as she talked and gestured with her hands. It was no secret how much grandmother loved all her children, and the love spilled over to the spouses, no wonder mother was always so excited also to meet her. Soon, we squeezed into the car again to complete the few minutes ride to the house. Driving away from the shop, grandmother could be seen back...
The old Peugeot saloon car rattled along the dusty road, the engine coughed and sputtered every time the gear is changed. The dust from the road making it nearly impossible for the driver to see clearly. Thankfully, it was still too early in the day for heavy traffic along the Bende - Ohafia road. It was few days to Christmas and my family were travelling home for the holidays. For my siblings and I, this was the best time of the year. The entire family will gather to celebrate the holidays together, coming from all parts of the country. For the next few days, the family house will be filled to the brim with aunties, uncles and cousins. We looked forward to all the trouble we will get into together with our cousins. We especially couldn’t wait to see grandmother. Grandmother was father’s mother, she was the reason our holidays were complete. The matriarch of the family. We loved her uncontrollably and she knew it and loved us even more.
My siblings and I jumped around in the hot dusty car, unable to control our excitement. All five of us were packed in the back seat of the car, with father behind the wheel and mother in the passenger seat. The backseat was tight and too small. my brother and I took turns in carrying our little brother on our lap as there was no space to fit him in the backseat. We did not mind the hotness and tightness of the car, as we jumped around every time we saw a sign that shows we were close to home.
“You children should be quiet back there”.
Mother yelled, turning to give us one of her I will kill you looks. It worked for a few minutes as we quieted down. But we were soon back at it, jumping and falling over each other.
I was soon nodding off to sleep, my younger brother clutched tightly in my arms so he wouldn’t fall off my lap. The rest of the journey went by in a blur as I dozed on and off, waking at intervals by my siblings pushing and shoving.
I was startled awake suddenly when the car noisily fell into a porthole. We all flew up and then back down in our seats as father murmured something about the bad roads to mother. I groggily looked out the window to see that we were already at Ebem junction leading to Asaga. I sat up straight in my seat and pushed my little brother to my older brother to hold.
Soon, father turned the car into the Ugwu Iyi Ebi road, with the twin hills and the little stream in the valley. The car effortlessly went down the first steep hill, going up the opposite hill was not so easy. The car coughed, spewed out smoke and slowly made its way up the hill. Father was clearly struggling with the steering, his feet moving from pedal to pedal as he struggled to keep the car from rolling backward. With all the luggage in the trunk of the car, it was a surprise the car even started the ascent. After a lot of struggle and a lot of gears, father was able make it to the top of the hill. We shouted victoriously from the back seat, earning us a smile from father.
Few poles down the road, just before the turn leading to the house, father stopped the car by the side of the road, beside an old small building, and there she was, Mma Ucheime, our grandmother.
She was sitting in front of her tiny provision store, peeling melon that she sells at the weekly Afor market days. Spotting the car and us, she stood from the wooden bench, stepping outside to meet us. I looked at her from the window of the car, I wondered how she always looked so regal. So clean in her regular dressing of two-tier wrapper and blouse. Her hair always covered. She once explained it was so that she could pray whenever and wherever without bothering about how to cover her hair. She dares not disrespect God by praying with her hair open.
Standing in front of the shop, grandmothers smile grew wider as we ran from the car, stumbling over each other in our frenzy to reach her. We revered grandmother, she was perfect in our eyes. She was so important to us that even in our excitement to see her, we dare not all hug her at once, for fear of pushing her down. When it got to my turn, I hugged her tightly, my young heart filling with love. And she hugged me right back, squeezing me tightly to herself. I knew grandmother loved us very much, but I liked to think she loved me more, probably because I was named after her.
As we ran into the shop to share the candies and groundnuts grandmother always kept for us, she went to talk to our parents who were standing by the car, watching us with grandmother. I watched her with mother and father from the shop as I opened my pack of hard candy with my teeth and plopped one into my mouth. Grandmother’s face glowed as she talked and gestured with her hands. It was no secret how much grandmother loved all her children, and the love spilled over to the spouses, no wonder mother was always so excited also to meet her. Soon, we squeezed into the car again to complete the few minutes ride to the house. Driving away from the shop, grandmother could be seen back...
