Mr. & Mrs. Babatola just had a baby girl.
It had been a long wait of four years and finally came a beautiful baby girl.
She was such a special baby that at the hospital where she was born, a
commissioner’s grand daughter was also born almost at the same time so she
received many special gifts which came from friends and family of the other
baby, who wanted to see a 3.8Kg baby girl that almost came at the reception if
not for grace and by natural birth. Mr. Babatola just got promoted at work and
as for Mrs. Babatola, her consignment just arrived the country. Apparently, she
fell in love with the business of selling baby things when she started shopping
for her babies (she was praying for twins) and she had made steps to start the
business as soon as she put to bed. It was a good way to be productive since
she quit her banking job. She was happy that at last, her goods were in the
country and if not for her condition, she would visit the warehouse everyday
just to see her dreams unfold.
Many thanks to Bisi, her sister-in-law who lived
in the US and had helped follow up on her order.
The two grandmas arrived from their different
destinations on the same day she was discharged from the hospital and the baby
was lost in the luxury of who would carry her, who would bathe her, who put her
on the back, who smiled at her. She was showered with so much love. As for Mrs.
Babatola’s mother, the baby girl was her first grand daughter after seven grand
sons and she was happy that the bundle of joy came from her daughter who had
been looking for the fruit of the womb for some time. She had to abandon her
shop back at the home town just to see this special child and she planned to
return after the christening. For Mr. Babatola’s mother, no one could
understand her joy, even though no one had mentioned it, the baby looked exactly
like her. She had seen her carbon copy and her last born had finally given her
a baby to carry after their episodes of quarrels when at first he refused to
bring home a wife and even after that he had no issue.
The christening came and Mrs. Babatola’s
mother returned. Mr. Babatola’s mother remained. Things went on well generally save
for Mrs. Babatola’s business which seemed to be hanging. There was still much
to be done at the shop she got in the new plaza around her former office though
Mr. Babatola had been helpful. She braced up and decided to gather herself
together so that she could resume to normal life on time and get started with
business. Her mother-in-law was a God-send; she would carry the baby and only
brought her to the mother to have her several sucks. She even offered that
since Mrs. Babatola was now strong, she could go about her runs while she took
care of the baby, only that she had to keep her breast milk expressed and
refrigerated. It was a good idea and within three weeks, Mrs. Babatola started
her business. For many weeks, she was really thankful for her mother-in-law.
Her respect and love for the elderly woman doubled. There was hardly any day
she would come home without getting her stuff and the woman was also grateful.
What a woman?
Now, the elderly woman had a bigger reason to
love her daughter-in-law. She was very kind and caring towards her. She had
even bought her so many gifts that she would take home and show-off with. She
had to do something spectacular just to show her other daughters-in-law who
weren’t so nice that she had found her favourite and that was the new baby,
Jasmine. This fateful day, she went downstairs and sent the gateman on an
errand to buy a pack of blade which he did and that was it.
“Mama, where is Jasmine? I mean Omolara” Mrs.
Babatola asked as she put down the groceries she bought on the dining table.
“Asleep, she didn’t feed much today. She has
been sleeping” the elderly woman replied, her face still glued to the Yoruba
movie she was watching. “She is running a slight temperature too but it is not
unusual, she will get over it”
Mrs. Babatola wanted to say that she didn’t
understand but she quickly took the groceries into the kitchen. Her friend,
Mrs. Onwe had promised to bring her a steward who would do house chores from
tomorrow. She reached for a bottle of water in the fridge and took two short
sips before she turned around to check her baby in the nursery. She would have
to give her a dose of paracetamol because ‘mama’ as she called her said she was
running temperature.
“arrrrrrghhhh” Mrs. Babatola ran out of the
bedroom as she screamed uncontrollably, “mama, mama, what happened to Jasmine?
What did you do to her….to her face?” She was shivering from ear to ear by now.
She felt so cold that her fingers trembled as she saw mama still much relaxed
on her seat, trying to watch the concluding part of the movie. Mrs Babatola
controlled herself not to reach for the remote control and switch off the
television so she shouted louder in case the elderly woman didn’t understand
her sense of urgency. “Who drew those lines on my baby’s face, mama?” tears
streaming down her face.
The elderly woman managed to stand up seeing
that the situation was getting critical.
“Haba, iyawo mi, you don’t have to get it all
wrong. Omolara is a special child to me; I only made it obvious with what I did
to her.”
Mrs. Babatola wanted to say ‘don’t tell me
that crap’ but she refrained again. Then, her husband walked into the
apartment. No one greeted him; he seemed to see the tension so he folded his
arms in confusion. Was it that his wife was rude to his mother?
“Where is Jasmine?” he asked at last.
“Jasmine? You mean my Jasmine? Well, I got
into this house and your mother has changed my baby. She sold my baby and
brought someone else home. Or what explanation do I give for leaving such a
cute baby at home with your mother and meeting a local one?”
Mr. Babatola didn’t ask questions, he ran 100
meters into the nursery and carried Jasmine who was already crying and wanting
to suck with the way she stuck out her tongue. He saw several lines drawn on
the baby’s face with blade. It was a careful work of art. He would have laughed
at the baby if it wasn’t his. He gave the baby to Mrs. Babatola who refused to
collect the baby just shaking her head and crying terribly.
Mama herself was confused. She thought she
would be thanked for what she had done. After all, it was special people in her
clan that had those tribal marks. She remembered that her own friends always
mocked her for not having tribal marks when they were young ladies and she even
suspected that was the reason she didn’t get a suitor on time. That was a long
time ago though. She was only trying to make Omolara her favourite but now, she
was going to regret it.
Mrs. Babatola refused to touch the baby no
matter how much her husband convinced her. She even made calls to her friends
and family telling them that her child was missing. She couldn’t be pacified no
matter what anybody did. It wasn’t painful for Mrs. Babatola alone; even Mr.
Babatola’s tears just flowed though he made no sound. What had his mother done?
He knew this matter would not lead anywhere good…..
Now, don’t let me finish this story for you.
You tell me, what would you do if you were to be either Mr. Babatola or the
wife? Would you just let it pass and let the baby live with tribal marks? That
seems to be the only solution or you will opt for plastic surgery? Would you
forgive the grandmother or you would sue her. I want to hear your views. Stay
blessed.
No comments:
Post a Comment