AFRICAN HOME

"Peter", his mum called, the sweet aroma of our local foods and the potent chants our parents laud on us when we stand tall to pound the fufu.

The Sunday afternoon goes with fufu and palm nut soup, Peter brushed off his friends and fled the field to enjoy his mother's homemade fufu, he was adored by his mum as he was her lone child in her late epochs.

Auntie Becky was in her late 45s as a single parent after her hubby never returned from his trek to Burkina Faso as a bus conductor, this cataclysm didn't stop her from working extra hours to cater for her son's education. Peter was loved by all due to his pleasant nature, he was different and ecstatic always.

" This Peter doesn't look like one who hasn't seen his father for ages he's always merry ". A denizen said,

"Happiness is a state of mind, no one can force you to be happy " Second woman

The boy learned a lot from his mum,

"You should find a way to fight your demon or else your demon would find a way to fight you from achieving great things"

She advised her chap when he was 12, 12 he used to come home shrieking about the comments his mates made about his father's whereabouts.

" Your father might be working hard with the Frenchmen to save up more money for your tertiary education" Auntie Becky uttered

"But why can't he call us"

the boy asked looking concerned, at 18 he hadn't had a single chatter with his biological father."

"Well, at least he sends us money".

Auntie Becky added,

She lied about the funds she used to cater for the boy's education, Peter was told Mr.Ray sent 350 Cefa every month for his education whilst Auntie Becky used the money she saved as a trader to fund her son's education.

" Sometimes a lie can save 1000 sorrows" She muttered,

It had been her nightmare to reminisce about her husband's last night with her, before that trek they lived together as a happy family till she asked for a better life but had a bitter one instead.