Bush Baby.

She couldn't sleep or wake without hearing the cries. Eniola kept hearing babies cry without seeing them. She thought she was crazy until I reminded her that we were in the labor ward where she had been for hours. It is all in my head, she said repeatedly, while my thumb gently stroked the back of her hand, till she fell asleep. After signing the last document needed to process the discharge from the hospital, we headed home. We were all too spent to drive so, we took a taxi. Eniola and I sat at the back with the baby's stroller in the middle, resting peacefully.

We got home, Eniola took the baby's stroller upstairs, and just as I finished off-loading, Eniola screamed. Her screams shook me enough to pause but not enough to do anything beyond the initial shock and instead of racing to meet her, I hissed. What is it again, I muttered to myself. When I finally got upstairs, I saw aburo ogogo oni drama in the person of Eniola, rolling on the floor and threatening to kill herself. Just like her screams, her threats shook me enough to pause but not enough to do anything beyond the initial shock. I went ahead to arrange everything we brought back from the hospital, took a shower, made food, ate and through it all Eniola was seriously screaming.

Anyway, I finally had her time so I asked her what the problem was. She stuttered a lot but was able to communicate that something was my fault. At this point, I was really confused. What exactly is my fault, I probed further. She went on and on and on about how there was no baby in the stroller and how I deceived her that she gave birth. Women and their theatrics, you know. Anyway, I reminded her that as we headed to the hospital she begged me to take the stroller with us in case the doctor recommends emergency delivery. You really cannot deliver what's not there.

Realizing that I was right, she stuttered yet again and I was able to understand that she was once again accusing me of doing something to the baby. She just wanted me to be wrong by all means, she didn't care about any baby. So, I rolled my eyes and calmly explained to her that it was also her fault, I mean, even though I beat the life out of her (pun intended), she could have left. So, what happened in that scenario was that she, an expecting mother, put her baby in harm's way by refusing to leave me. I did the world a favor by not allowing a potentially atrocious mother to become a mother at all, just like my father did. Only that, just like ever other thing he lays his hand on, he failed and I succeeded.