PART 10: The Watch My Grandmother Left Me

I did one final crosscheck of our daily activity log to be sure I hadn’t missed any pending emails, returned books or requests from members. Everything looked perfect, so I shut down the computer with a satisfied nod and headed into the changing room. After taking off my work vest, I neatly folded it into my locker before turning to the mirror to tidy my hair. As I reached for my shoulder bag, my eyes drifted to the wall clock. It was barely past five.

“Hmm…” I muttered to myself.

I still had enough time to stop by Mama’s house before heading home. If I was ever going to find out why everybody suddenly seemed so interested in one old wristwatch, then today felt like the right day to begin.

I had just stepped out of the changing room when somebody almost bumped into me.

“Yemi! Ah, I’m so sorry!” Angel said between breaths, one hand pressed against her chest. “This Lagos traffic nearly made me lose my job today.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Angel, calm down jare. You don’t have to apologise every time. Besides, you’ve saved me from closing shift more times than I can count. Just go and clock in before they send another warning mail.”

She laughed, shook her head and hurried into the changing room. A few seconds later, I heard the familiar beep of the biometric machine as she swiped her ID card and placed her thumb on the scanner.

Another beep.

She popped her head out with a grin. “See? Officially at work. You can go now. Enjoy your evening.”

“You too,” I replied before slinging my bag over my shoulder and heading out.

Normally, I would have walked straight towards the bus stop that led home, but today my legs carried me across the road instead. I quickly sent my mum a message that I was stopping by Mama’s house first. Almost immediately, my phone vibrated.

Be careful, my dear. Call me when you’re leaving.

I smiled unconsciously. My mum worried so much that sometimes I genuinely believed she thought Lagos was one giant kidnapping centre.

I locked my phone, slipped it back into my bag and flagged down a yellow korope.

“Estate Gate!” I shouted.

The bus slowed down a few metres ahead, and I jogged towards it before the driver changed his mind. The conductor leaned halfway out of the door and shouted, “Fine girl! Estate Gate na three hundred o. Hold your change.”

I hissed immediately.

I honestly don’t know why these conductors insist on calling every female passenger fine girl as if it’s written in their union constitution. And don’t even get me started on that “hold your change” rubbish. Those people can hide one hundred naira change like it’s family inheritance.

Luckily for him, I had already separated two hundred naira and one hundred naira from my wallet before entering the bus. If he thought today was the day he would stress me, e no go work.

As we approached my stop, I shouted, “Estate Gate wa o!” because if you don’t remind these drivers where you’re dropping, congratulations in advance, you’ve just registered for an unplanned tour of Lagos.

A few minutes later, I stepped down in front of the estate and made my way towards Mama’s house.

The old rusty gate looked exactly the way I remembered it on the day we buried her. Just seeing it sent a strange heaviness into my chest. I pushed it open gently and the familiar creaking sound welcomed me back. Inside the compound, workers moved in and out carrying bags of cement, paint buckets and planks of wood. So, the renovation had truly started.

A wave of nostalgia washed over me.

This compound used to be alive.

Mama would sit outside every evening peeling oranges while telling me stories that somehow always ended with a life lesson whether I asked for one or not. Looking at it now, the whole place felt like somebody had stolen its soul.

I greeted a few of the workers as I walked past them and headed towards the front door, but just as I was about to step inside, I heard the one voice I had prayed not to hear.

Big Mommy.

“Hmm…” I sighed under my breath. “As luck no dey ever complete.”

I pushed the entrance door open carefully and peeped inside first.

Bad idea.

She was already looking directly at me.

“Aah… Yemi,” she called out with a smile that looked sweeter than it actually was. “Come inside na.”

If witches attended finishing school, they would probably graduate with that exact smile.

I forced one back and entered the house like a rat that had mistakenly entered the pot of soup while the owner was still in the kitchen.

“Good evening Auntie…”

The way she lifted her eyes to look at me immediately reminded me that she hated western greetings.

I corrected myself quickly.

“Big Mommy… good evening ma.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I… I didn’t know you would be around. I actually wanted to—”

She didn’t even let me finish.

“Where else would I be? This is practically my house now. Abeg, go on and do whatever brought you here.”

The way she emphasised my house almost made my blood boil over, but I swallowed my response and headed towards Mama’s room.

“Kini?” (what?) she barked again. “Nibo lo n lo?” (where are you going to?)

I froze.

Honestly, that woman could intimidate armed robbers. “I just wanted to check Mama’s room.” I blotted out before another sword of question hit me.

She looked at me from head to toe before waving her hand dismissively.

“Hmph. There is kukuma nothing there you can steal. Go on.”

So, now she does not only intimidate with her presence but also accuse one of theft. I couldn’t be angrier. Well, I didn’t need a second invitation. I proceed on my path.

The moment I stepped into Mama’s room, I stopped for a second just to breathe it in. It still carried that faint scent I know with mama. For one brief moment, it almost felt like she had only stepped outside and would walk back in any minute.

I went straight to the bedside drawer.

Empty.

I smiled to myself.

So this was all packaging. Big Mommy had definitely searched this room before now. She just couldn’t be bothered with anything that didn’t look like money.

I moved to the wardrobe and found only a few old wrappers piled up inside. I almost turned away when my fingers brushed against something hard hidden beneath them. Curious, I pulled it out and found a stack of coffee-stained brown envelopes tied together with an old string. My heart skipped. I looked around quickly for something to carry them in, I looked behind the wardrobe, I found one of Mama’s old tote bags. I remembered that bag immediately. She used to carry it anytime she came visiting. Without wasting time, I slipped the envelopes the bag. I kept checking every nook and cranny of the wardrobe like I was looking for some missing puzzle pieces.

As I turned to leave, I took one last sweep around the room to see if I had missed anything, something beneath the bed caught my attention.

A small wooden chest.

It had been pushed so far underneath that anyone casually searching the room would never notice it. I dragged it out carefully and smiled when I realised it wasn’t even locked.

“Ah, Mama… trusting people was really your ministry.”

The moment I lifted the lid; Big Mommy’s voice thundered through the hallway.

“YEMI!”

My heart was beating so loudly I could barely hear myself think. I didn’t even have time to inspect what was inside the chest. I simply scooped everything into the old handbag as fast as my hands could move. Some old leather bracelet… what looked like a leather-bound journal… folded newspapers… a tiny brass key with a leather charm holder… photographs… another brown envelope… I wasn’t even paying attention anymore. Whatever it was, I couldn’t leave it behind.

I threw the old wrappers over everything, shoved the chest back underneath the bed and quickly stood up.

“I’m coming, Big Mommy!” I shouted, hoping my voice didn’t betray the panic racing through my body.

She was already waiting in the hallway when I stepped out.

Her eyes dropped immediately to the bag in my hand.

“Kí lo gbé yẹn?” she asked suspiciously.

My heart nearly escaped through my throat. “Oh… this?” I forced a smile.

“Just some of Mama’s old wrappers. I wanted to keep something that still smells like her.”

She stared at me for what felt like forever, her eyes piercing into my soul like she was searching for a hint at the half-truth I just shared

For one terrifying second, I genuinely thought she would stretch out her hand and ask me to open the bag.

Instead, she stepped aside.

I didn’t waste another second.

I walked towards the front door as calmly as I could, but just as my hand touched the doorknob, her voice stopped me once again.

“Yemi.”

I turned slowly.

She looked straight into my eyes, and for the first time since I arrived, there wasn’t a trace of mockery on her face but a fierce amber of hatred.

“Your mother has done enough damage to this family. I don’t want to ever see you here!”

My hand froze on the doorknob.

My mother?

I stared at her, convinced I had heard wrongly.

My mum?

The same woman who still apologised to chairs after accidentally bumping into them? The same woman who couldn’t even kill a rat without first praying for forgiveness?

What damage could she possibly have done?

Before I could even gather enough courage to ask, Big Mommy had already turned away, barking fresh instructions at the workers outside as though she hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell of my life.

I stood there for another second before quietly opening the door and stepping outside.

This time, I didn’t look back.

Not once.

I tightened my grip on Mama’s old bag as I hurried towards the bus stop, my mind replaying those words over and over again.

Your mother has done enough damage to this family.

Why was I suddenly afraid that the answers I’d been desperately searching for might change everything I thought I knew about my family?

#thecomfortadeyeye#FictionStory#NoCopying#AllRightsReversed