Kelechi had been severely beaten and gored by her assailants. In their opinion it had all been in fun and jest. What kind of woman does not like being pursued by men? It was not as if she was a virgin. She already had a child that she spoke of but had not even bothered to bring with her. She was probably one of these wayward women who had got herself in trouble and was hiding out at the Mission house. You can't trust these girls. She was probably doing it with some of the reverend fathers. Why else would she get to live there free of charge. The boys spit on the busy dusty, street that was bejeweled with pot holes as they turned back toward the Mission house. Any way, why would a woman leave her people and move into the Catholic Mission house? Nothing is free in this Nigeria, O!

The frightened young woman had run into the house next door. Her clothes were torn and her body was bloodied. She had forgotten to be afraid of the crazy dogs in the yard she ran into. She had not given one thought to all the plants that covered the house. Better to be bitten by mean dogs than to have sex with those crazy boys. Kelechi was not aware of the fact that her hip bone had been broken in her insane encounter with the Mission house boys. Those boys could not be any older than her own younger brothers in the village, but this was what not having any money brought to her life. This was the story of her life of being poor in Lagos!

Kelechi banged on the door with both fists. "Mama! Mama! Mama! Please open your door! Mama! I beg you. Please open your door", she yelled desperately; all the while looking wildly behind her to see if the men had followed her. It seemed like an eternity before the older woman came to the door. She was clearly frightened because she lived alone and the dogs who were still in the gated backyard were barking furiously at the sound of an intruder in their territory. No one came into the yard without their consent. The dogs were in the habit of sniffing anyone who entered the yard they protected before allowing the guests entry or holding them hostage until their mistress arrived.

The older woman opened the door and gasped to see a bloodied half dressed young woman at her door. Without as much of a word she let the girl in. Then she quickly shut and bolted the door behind her, leaving the wounded girl to find her way to a chair. The older woman walked briskly through the house to the back yard and released her dogs so that they could wander freely to the front of the house. Not until she was certain that the dogs had reached her intended destination did she return to her clearly wounded uninvited guest to begin to ascertain the source of her troubles.

"What happened to you? You are one of the people in the Catholic Mission next door, aren't you?" the older woman inquired. Kelechi was now beginning to feel the pain in her throbbing body. She still could not respond and now began to cry. Her tears were both tears of relief at having escaped the crazy boys and tears from the pain that shot through her head now that her body was at rest. Although all that came from the girl were tears and the heaving created by her intense cries, Mama boomed, "They won't dare follow you into my yard."

Mama went to fetch her round brown first aid box that was filled with everything from a pair of scissors to iodine and gauze. She also got some soap, some methylated spirits, some water and several hand towels. Kelechi was in too much pain to look around the room or to be nervous around Mama. She was just glad that the older woman had let her in. Mama looked the girl over and began to clean the blood mixed in with dirt and sweat from the girl's body with a wet towel. "This is going to burn", she warned the girl as she continued the cleaning with methylated spirit drenched cotton wool. The girl barely winced. She was in too much pain to feel the burning of the methylated spirits.

Mama handed the girl a wet towel with which to wipe her face. The girl looked briefly into her benefactor's face and then looked to the floor in shame. Finally the girl spoke. Her eyes were firmly glued on an invisible object on the floor. "I am Kelechi. I just came to the Mission house a little while back because I have no where to live. I used to sell food at St. Agnes bus stop by the school." She stopped and Mama waited. Mama continued to attend to the girl's ravaged body.

"I…The boys were chasing me. I was running away from the boys.""Hmm", was Mama's only retort as she offered the girl a yellow plastic cup filled with drinking water. "Wait for me. Let me get you some beans." Then she left the room.The young girl finally looked up as the older woman left for the kitchen. She pulled the remains of her dress closer to her body and looked around the room as if she were in a dream. She could not believe that she was actually sitting inside the house of the older woman that she had been warned to be careful of.

Her sentencing had occurred on a hot dry December day. Kelechi had gone to fetch her bath water from the pump in the yard of the Mission house. She had lived there for about three weeks. The boys, who had been her judge, had been friendly at first. They had called her Aunty and had inquired about her life and what had brought her to the Mission house. She had told them about her child and that she would only take residence in the extra room beneath the stairs that the reverend fathers had provided her for only a short while.

She had failed to tell them that she could no longer afford to buy the flour and the other necessary ingredients for the buns she fried and sold or that she had no skills she could market and was not willing to beg on the sides of the streets or prostitute herself. She had been too ashamed to tell them the real reason she was there.It was sometime after that that the boys had begun to tease her about how much better her life would be if she had a man. The boys thought it their right to solicit sex from her at any time. Each time she had turned them away and told them that her body was not for sale. The boys became angrier at each rejection.

They had left her alone for a couple of days. Then she noticed that whenever she came out of her room, they were huddled together talking and pointing at her. She began to try to avoid them. She stayed in her room most of the time because she did not want any trouble. She knew she could not afford a room anywhere if she lost this one room she had been granted through the generosity of the priests at her church.

The boys frequently lingered outside the boys quarters shower stall that was intended for domestics when she went to take a shower in the mornings. Then one day they pushed the door wide open while she was bathing and still had soap on her face. She recalled the humiliation she felt as they stood at the door and laughed at her nakedness while she cowered into a corner of the tiny shower stall trying to grab her wrapper from the nail on which it hung so that she could cover her soapy body. She did not want any trouble. They had lived there much longer than she had. She could not afford to lose the roof over her head. She had simply grabbed her clothes, bar of hand made local soap, her make-shift shredded packaging sponge and soap scum covered worn purple plastic bucket and returned to her room half bathed. She had sworn never to wash in the common shower again.

Her morning routine had then begun with washing her face rapidly with water she now saved in a bowl in the corner of her room that barely fit a pallet for sleeping made of her clothes which were the extent of all her worldly possessions.It was only after that that she would fetch her bath water at the communal water pump under the watchful eyes of the public when all the other employees of the Mission house had arrived but always in advance of the time when parishioners who came to see the reverend fathers trailed in. Finally she would return to her room to stand in a large basin to wash herself down.

Bathing and the fact that she had not stooped to begging, stealing or prostitution were the only pleasures she derived in this life. Those were the only things that helped her remember that she was human and not a chicken or goat that wandered the streets. She had accepted the fact that she was going to be confined like a prisoner until she left her temporary shelter or until the boys found a new interest. No. It did not end like that at all. How could she have known those wild animals had other plans for her that hungry December day?

That morning she had gone to get bath water as usual feeling foolishly safe because the workers had arrived. The boys had surprised her. They had all rushed up on her at once. Her bucket had gone flying out of her hand and she had no weapon, save her self nor did she have a means of escape. She had shouted for help moving from one boy to the other scoping the horizon hoping that some of the women who were lazily sweeping the yard some 40 odd feet away would intervene; they finally did; but only after they had given the boys enough time to expose her nakedness and beat her mercilessly with the metal pipes they had conveniently found in the compound.

The workers had become a jeering jury, yelling and shrugging their shoulders at what they thought was deserved punishment for a crime they just assumed she had committed. It was not until they heard the sound of a car that they thought was driving into the compound that they dispersed because one of the cleaning women had brought it to their attention. Kelechi ran. She ran as fast as she could. She ran because she knew she was running for her life. She was sure those boys were behind her. Yes. That was how she ended up in the mama's house next door. She had been totally surprised at how fast she had unlatched the mama's gate which usually seemed to be locked and even more surprised that the mama had let her in.

How could the black white woman who would not let anyone throw refuse or urinate into the gutter outside her house or park their cars in front of her gate actually let her in to her prized house? Kelechi was confused but grateful. The old woman had washed her wounds as if she were her own daughter. Mama re-entered the room punctuating Kelechi's thoughts, "I think you have some broken bones, but it should not prevent you from eating beans." The grateful girl attempted to stand up to receive the plate of beans and sank back into the chair in excruciating pain. "Sit down. Here. Let me bring this stool nearer to you so you can eat. You have gone through a horrible experience." Mama said gently as she pushed the triangular stool over to the injured girl. "Thank ma.' The girl responded as she hungrily devoured the plate heaped full of beans. "You need a doctor. I do not know how to fix broken bones, but I know you should not try to move around in your condition."

The girl licked the spoon and suddenly caught a glimpse of the older woman watching her. Although the older woman had pretended not to notice the scraping sounds of the spoon against the starving girl's plate, she could not help but steal glances at the wounded girl sitting in her living room wondering what she would tell her own daughter about her new "guest" when she arrived. Realizing that hunger had stripped her of good manners, Kelechi placed the spoon back on the plate. The plate was empty and looking rather clean except for the trails of palm-oil that moving the beans around on the plate had created. Mama asked her if she wanted some more beans as a matter of fact. Shame of her circumstances had almost made her refuse another mess of beans, but her stomach spoke louder than her shame.

She did not know how long her good fortune would hold. She did not have transportation money to go back to the village to escape poverty in Lagos; it was not that she wanted to return to the village. It was not much better in her village. Her family no longer had any land on which to farm. Their survival had depended on the little she sent to them from her meager earnings and the kind generosity of extended family. Returning to the village would only create another mouth to feed and she did not want to be forced into reclaiming a child that she could not feed. She had previously sent her little boy back to the village to live with the woman who had refused to accept her as a daughter-in-law because her family was too poor not because she would have made a bad wife. She ate this second serving a lot slower. Right now she did not have the energy or the desire to explain her misfortune or to feign hope for her hopeless future to anyone. This time she savored each spoonful making sure not to leave any of the beans behind on the plate.

As if the older woman could read her mind, she had offered her a place to sleep for the time being; a place to rest her head until she could get proper help. Kelechi found herself repeating the words "Thank, ma" over and over again because there was little else she thought appropriate to say. Mama reached for the telephone once she had given the girl fresh clothes to wear and settled her down; as usual the phone was dead. Mama was used to the phone being dead. It had nothing to do with an unpaid bill; it was just the way things worked or rather didn't work in the country. She put the phone back on its cradle and attended to her daily chores while she waited for her daughter Olufunmilayo who was sure to stop by.

Although her young neighbor had not yet told her what had caused the pitiful condition of her body, Mama had already guessed that it was related to the ruckus she had heard over the wall that divided her house from the Mission house next door. The Mission house was built relatively close to hers and she could clearly see into parts of the compound from her dining room window if she did not have her curtains drawn. She had heard the commotion in the next compound but had not bothered to pull back the blinds since whatever had her neighbors yelling and carrying on seemed to have them simultaneously roaring with laughter.

She had not cared to listen to the details of the many simultaneous conversations that had been going on next door but she could not help but overhear that it involved some theft, God's punishment or something to that effect. She never did not much care for mobs and was not inclined to stop whatever she was doing to watch public displays of stupidity. So when she had heard peals of laughter amidst all the uproar, and since her dogs had not alerted her to an intruder, she had decided not to interfere in whatever was going on next door. In her opinion, the Mission house which had been left to lay fallow for many years since the expatriate priests who occupied it earlier had returned to their home countries was now filled with loud, inconsiderate vandals who had no sense of what it was to be neighborly.

Kelechi who was resting as comfortably as she could, had now fallen into a deep sleep on the sofa in Mama's living room. Mama had covered the girl with a clean mustard yellow flat bed sheet. The girl's body seemed to be swollen and bruised in so many areas from being hit forcefully by some blunt object. Her left thigh and hip area seemed to have swollen enormously; this area was much more swollen than the other parts. Mama was certain that there were definitely bones broken in that area. She went over to the phone again. This time the phone had a dial tone. She breathed a sigh of relief and dialed the private line of her personal doctor.

Dr. Anfani was quick to respond. She recognized the voice immediately and responded brightly. "How are you ma? I hope all is well? Your next appointment is in another fortnight. Are you missing me already?" When she noticed that Mama did not respond right away, she said, "I'm on my way." Mama simply said, "Broken bones, major lacerations and trauma from the force of a blunt object." Dr. Anfani called loudly to someone in the background before she hung up the phone, "Ambulance. Emergency! Mama Funlayo's house. Hurry!" She had not waited to find out if it was Mama who had this chronicle of medical issues or if Mama was attempting to tell her about someone else.

Olufunmilayo, Mama's only daughter arrived just as Dr. Anfani's ambulance pulled up in front of her mother's house. She was petrified. She had warned her mother over and over again about choosing to live a white man's life in a black man's country. "Mama this is Nigeria. My father is dead. Old people do not live alone. You are not a gun toting pioneer in the American west. Move in with me and my husband. It isn't as if we can't take care of you." Her mother had refused. "I don't want anyone telling me when to eat or sleep. I don't need you children getting under my feet. I have always been my own master and I am not about to abandon that now."

Olufunmilayo could recite her mother's response word for word by now; she had heard the same response since her mother celebrated her fiftieth birthday and she had first invited her to move in with her new family in a more affluent part of town. She knew how stubborn her mother could be when she had set her mind to something so she never argued with her. But this had not stopped her from bringing up the subject every opportunity she had. Now it had come to this; an ambulance outside her mother's house. Perhaps her mother had fallen and hurt herself. Perhaps she had cracked her skull open and was lying there dead. "That old woman will surely be the death of me", she murmured under her breath.

She nearly dropped the striped plastic bag filled with fresh cat fish as she rushed into the yard, past the sniffing dogs who knew better than to bark at their mistress's only daughter. As she reached into her handbag to get her keys, she found her mother standing at the door in front of her. "Thank Heaven's! You are alright" she shouted. "Hush. Don't make so much noise." Her mother whispered. 'Funmilayo as she was sometimes called rolled her large black eyes. If this woman were not her mother, she would have had her killed a very l-o-n-g time ago. The emergency crew from the ambulance was now standing directly behind her at the door almost pushing her aside so they could get inside. 'Funmilayo stepped to the side and hissed as respectfully as she could, "Mama what is going on?"

The ambulance crew was in the house before she was. Dr. Anfani's car pulled up behind the ambulance. Funmilayo just stood to the side hands folded under her chest. She had had enough! What was her mother up to this time? One never knew what to expect from the old lady. You just couldn't get her to behave. She had a knack for embarrassing you when you least expected it. Perhaps the doctor could talk some sense into her. Funmilayo cleared her throat and prepared to use her sweet syrupy voice. "Dr. Anfani. Long time no see. Mama is in there doing her thing as usual. Perhaps you can talk some sense into her. She seems to be okay." Dr. Anfani bared her teeth at Funmilayo for a split second in an obviously superficial smile. "I am glad your mother is fine. Have you seen her yet?"There was no love lost between the women. They tolerated each other for Mama's sake.

'Funmilayo was highly irritated by now. Her syrupy voice usually got her what she wanted but it hadn't worked with the good doctor. In her opinion, Dr. Anfani was just her mother's lackey. One day she would come to realize what a drag her mother really was. The old woman just did not know how to live; especially for someone who collected a steady pension from the government. She spent her day visiting other old folk, having tired old conversations when she could be out and about town getting involved with the people that were really happening. She could at least dress up and come along to some of the high class parties that her friends threw in the city. 'Funmilayo bit her tongue.

She was smart enough not say what she really thought. She had to keep up appearances. No one could say she was not a good daughter. After all she made her daily pilgrimages to her mother's house. She did not know any of her friends' mothers who got fresh fish every day. As for doctor know-it-all, she didn't fool anyone. She was probably there at a moments notice because her business wasn't thriving. No one in their right mind would leave their clinic to attend to an old woman who did not know how to use this town. They were two of a kind and needed to be together. They could take care of each other for all she cared. It would be less trouble for her to deal with after all. Why waste words on a fool?

She twisted her 22 inch long thick 22 karat gold chain which she had bought on her recent trip to Saudi Arabia by the heavy ornate pendant that dangled from it and stared directly at Dr. Anfani. "Hmph! Myyyyyyyyyyyy mother opened the door herself when I arrived here." Funmilayo said with her neck craned like a bird about to take flight. The doctor walked in ahead of Funmilayo. The sleeping girl had slowly begun to stir. Mama and the crew were standing over Kelechi examining her and discussing whether to move her into the ambulance. Dr. Anfani strode right over to Mama smiled and hugged her in relief. "I am glad to see that you are not the patient. Who is our young lady on the sofa?" she inquired.

Despite the pain relievers that Mama had dispensed to Kelechi, the throbbing pain that possessed her body never really faded away. She lay really still completely astounded that a doctor and medical crew had actually come there because of her. She could not believe that her insignificant life was important to any one but her own mother and her child. She felt that she owed Mama and the doctor an explanation of how she got to become their burden. She vowed to tell them what had happened as soon as they had settled on her fate. She could not afford a doctor or the hospital. She had to make sure they understood that. She was just grateful that they cared; that people who did not know her cared.

Mama began to speak in a steady firm stream of words. "My precious child, true daughter of Anfani. You do not fail to act as kindly as your father before you. Your name is certainly appropriate to your person and your profession. This child you see is my daughter from next door. She has been wounded and broken, but she did not die. Neither one of us has the money that can pay you. You see us as we are." Mama stretched out her hands with her empty palms facing upward. Funmilayo groaned and rolled her eyes. Before she could control herself she had remarked, "Only my mother would mistake another man's daughter for her own. She should have had more children if she wanted others." All eyes turned to her and the realization of what she had done settled on her. Her words had fallen like a string of beads that had snapped in the market place and lay scattered in a mess in public sight. She could not clean up the mess she had made. She left the room completely embarrassed that her thoughts had betrayed her and escaped without notice as words through her lips.

Mama continued, "As you can see this is my emergency. She is my child just as much as you or Funmilayo are. Does it matter from whose womb a child is born? A family must take care of its members. Do the best you can and we will talk about the rest later." Dr. Anfani smiled and began to inspect the girl by herself. Mama sat in a straight back wooden chair in the hallway so that she would not be in the way and because her legs ached. "We will take her away for further diagnosis and treatment once we get enough information on her. Kelechi was still frozen in wonderment as she responded to Dr. Anfani's questions as if she were in a trance. "Once we get everything under control, we may have to bring her back if I can't come up with a spare bed. I'll send a nurse with along with her if that be the case." "Thank you my dear. Come nearer let me look at you once again. May you find as much…much more joy than that you give me. May you bear children who will repay you for all the good that you do." "Amin, ma", replied Dr. Anfani, "I will be in touch. I have to get back to the clinic. Bye for now ma."

Once the door shut behind Dr. Anfani and her medical crew with Kelechi safely on the stretcher, Funmilayo emerged from the room into which she had retreated earlier in embarrassment. Neither woman made any allusions to 'Funmilayo's earlier statement. Mama thanked her daughter warmly for yet another bag of fresh fish which she knew was quite expensive, accepting the fact that she could not change her daughter's nature and that she had done her best as a parent to help her self-important daughter understand the things that were most valuable in life. Funmilayo instantly lunged into a solicitous show of affection toward her mother as if this would erase her earlier fuax pas. "Mama mi. What did you cook today? I'm sure you haven't eaten yet since you have been so busy taking care of others?" She knew the girl's name was Kelechi but she was not going to let the name of some riff raff pass through her lips unless it was to give them orders.

She couldn't believe that her mother would associate with people of that caliber."We can eat at the Yatch Club today, you know. I can return to the office a little later." Mama was once more amazed that she had actually given birth to a daughter who lacked depth to this degree. Did her daughter fail to realize that someone was wounded and that she needed to remain close to home just incase there were any new developments? She smiled looking at her daughter wondering how the gods could have sent her a child who could not see beyond what money could buy and how "her" public viewed her. If she had raised her child as stage mothers do, she would have understood her daughter's excessive sense of self; but she had not. She had raised her daughter as she had been raised; to respect and value all people. She knew that people doted on her only child as much as her late husband had because she was such, an only child, but she had not understood how despite all her best efforts her daughter had turned out to be such a self centered and shallow adult who responded only to the flattery and opinion of her so called high class friends.

Mama knew that if she said she needed to remain at home because of someone else, her daughter would throw a hissy fit and would create her own version of what had actually transpired. She looked at her beautiful extravagantly dressed daughter and proceeded to tell her that she was tired and needed to stay home but she stopped and said, "Olufunmilayo. You do try so hard. Let me stay here today. I would prefer to cook this fish now. You know NEPA may soon do its will and plunge us all into darkness until who knows when. I wouldn't want the fish to spoil. Let me cook it while we have electricity" That was a much more palatable excuse to Funmilayo. Her mother was going to stay home to cook the fish she had bought. She was in control. "Mama. Shall I cook rice or would you prefer some amala," she chirped happily content that things were as they should be. "You should still have some left over yam flour from last week." She continued as she made her way to the kitchen. Under her breath, she murmured "…if you haven't given it away."

The ringing phone interrupted the two women as they enjoyed their meal of fresh fish soup and amala with okra soup left over from a previous meal during which Funmilayo was excitedly updating her mother on the latest gossip in town. "What do they want?" remarked Funmilayo as if the caller at the other end had purposely plotted to disturb her grand show and distract her captive audience. "These people call at such inopportune times. Would you like me to get it?" she inquired of her mother rather begrudgingly. "It's alright. Just pull it a little closer to me. I'll get it," said her mother as she laid the fork of amala rolled in soup which was well on its way to her mouth back onto her plate. "Hello?" she briskly called into the phone. "Hello?" The phone made a crackling noise, much like gravel being rolled over in a tin can and then she heard a male voice mostly obscured by the noise. "Mommy. Is daddy there? Let me speak to daddy!" Anyone who knew her would be aware of the fact that her husband had died about ten years before. Relieved, she shouted, "Wrong number!" hoping the person at the other end of the phone could hear her through all the crackling. Funmilayo immediately returned to the delivery of her enraptured local update and Mama continued her meal.

Funmilayo felt generous once she had finished her meal and had reassured herself that her mother was completely hers lock stock and barrel. She dug her hands with its impeccably manicured and painted fingernails into her bag and counted out 95,000 naira which she handed over to her mother who received the money both in shock and gratitude. Mama decided not to look the gift horse in the mouth as she thanked her daughter for this unusual generosity. Her daughter laughed and said, "If you would only move in with me things would be so much easier." Her mother knew better and preferred to wait until after her death before her daughter sold all that she currently owned to feed her lavish life style. "Well, since you don't want to go out I have to return to work. "You know how those foolish employees cannot do a single thing on their own without supervision. To boot, if the boss stays away too long they would have stolen half the office by the time I return."

Her mother continued to listen to her in silence grateful that she would at least have some money to pay Dr. Anfani toward Kelechi's care. Dr. Anfani never asked her for anything and she appreciated that but she could not knowingly place a burden on the child when she now had something to give. "I will try to stop by with Wale and the children on the way back from church on Sunday. I hope we don't have any surprise committee meetings scheduled. Those people just can't understand that anyone has a life beyond their silly meetings."At this they both rose and walked toward the front door. "Mommy, go out and enjoy yourself or at least get someone to fix the cabinet under the sink in your kitchen. It seems to have some kind of problem." Both Mama and Funmilayo knew that as much of the money as was necessary was going to the care of Kelechi but they played this cock and mouse game as if they were strangers to each other. The one believed how materialistic her daughter was and the other believed how wasteful her mother was.

They were remarkably different women and yet so alike in some ways. Mama had been a fashionable woman in her day. Her daughter had inherited and magnified this trait. To her dismay it seemed as if her daughter lived for clothes and fine jewelry. She had worked hard and loved to look good. Her daughter was definitely not a lazy person. She had worked hard and earned her way to a high post in the government. That was where the similarity ended. Mama's thoughts drifted to the man that she had married. She had had a kind husband who appreciated her and although he had contributed very little to the upkeep of the household, he had never taken her money. He had left her to spend the money she earned as she chose. He had been secure in the fact that she had a good head for numbers and always put the best interest of the family first. He would seek her input when they were invited to social events. His response to all invitations had been, "So. What did Mama Funmilayo say?" He was a good man and even when temptation had got the better of him she pretended not to notice and his roving eye. She new that he did not spend the night outside the house feared being trapped in a situation that was meant to be temporary away from the family that he was so proud of.

Their only child had been well taken care off and the house was always in order. When he died he had gladly left a block of four flats and the house that Mama now lived in to her. He had honored her by not having children outside the marriage even though she had been unable to bear him another child after that first one. Mama had been content with her husband's discretion because it was much more than many women could say for their deceased husbands. She was just puzzled that she their daughter had turned out the way she had. If she did not know any better and their daughter had not looked so much like her grandmother, she would have sworn her husband had picked up the wrong child on their way home from the clinic when she gave birth. It was not that she did not love her daughter. She did. She adored her. They simply did not seem to understand each other. Perhaps they understood each other too well and just could not appreciate each other.