We were on the dinning table, listening to the strange voices over the radio, and eating at the same time.
Kambili sat on the edge of the chair. Greasy food containers were spread out.
Boiled ofada rice that I brought from home, over fried soggy dumplings in a plastic tray, fried chicken and paper board container of chow mein.
The chow mein overflowed with sauce soaked tan noodles, a piece of egg, brown fatty beef and large greenish pepper slices.
"This ofada tastes really nice Nne. I missed your cooking back then in Owerri." She said, while she stabbed a huge deep fried piece of chicken with her fork; the chicken made a crunching sound like she had forced the fork into a lollipop.
"I miss aba'cha enh. I miss agege bread."
She shoved the chicken into her mouth.
"You like food too much. I don't know how you eat that crap and still stay so thin." I said, making sounds with my cutleries.
"You don't know how delicious oyigbo meals can be. But certainly not like the Igbo foods." She said, munching the chicken noisily in her mouth gaily.
I looked into the containers of noodles. "Is this supposed to be the famous chow mein?"
"Yes cousin, it might look like shit, but it taste so good."
"My husband and I had it at a Chinese restaurant in Lagos once."
"The one you eat here tastes better cousin. The real makers of chow mein live in the US."
"My husband liked it."
Your late husband! Not your husband anymore." Kambili said boldly.
My heart felt, as I watched her munching the chicken in her mouth noisily.
Later.
The lights were off; the radio was disrupted by bad network.
"Shitty people!" Kambili slammed.
The flickering TV illuminated the sitting room.
She slouched on the sofa, snoring.
"Nne please call Kelechi to get the dishes off the that table." She said in a low, sleepy tone.
"Kelechiiiiii!"
"Why didn't she join us for lunch? I hope you didn't ask her to skip lunch and sleep Kamsi?" I asked.
"Mbanu, she is angry because I didn't let her go out. There is this Mexican guy that comes hanging around my house because of Kelechi. I am sure she wanted to go see him, didn't you see how well dressed she was?"
"At least you were not even up to her age when you started seeing Nwabueze, the igwe's son in Utta." I said sardonically.
Kambili gave a sneering smile and sighed.
"She is only 22 Yvonne." She said lightly.
"You were 15. "
We both got into a boisterous laugh.
"Remind me of better days kwo? Not the days of foolish Nwabueze, who left me for Chidimma the village fucker."
We both got into a hard laugh, which sounded so loud.
"Kelechiiiii!" I called out.
I sneaked quietly to her room but didn't find her.
"Nne o, your daughter isn't here." I said from the room.
Kambili rushed to the room and rushed out to other rooms screaming "Kelechi! Kelechi!"
I took a deep breath and joined her in searching for Kelechi.
"She is out! She ran out!" Kambili's voice quivered now.
"Chineke! This girl is out there with those things?" Tears rolled out from her eyes.
Kambili cried easily, since when we were children. She cried when she was hungry, sad, happy and anxious.
I laced my hands. "What things? Let's go find her Kamsi, crying won't solve all these ." I said, holding her hands tight .
Source.....VickyBon
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