Sat. Feb 10th, 2024

****EPISODE 7****


Daisy woke up rather late this morning for she was an early riser, the bed-side clock showed the time to be 7:30am, but Daisy made no move to stand, instead she curled up further into the blanket, she was feeling sick and her head really hurts. This was an aftermath of skipping her nightly dose of juice and as she had predicated, the consequence had been grave, it shook her like an earthquake.


She had all but consciously walked to the kitchen at about 2am earlier that morning for that was the time the craving begins. Still not fully awake, she searched the fridge and cupboards looking for Juice, it was minutes later that it dawned on her that She wasn’t in her apartment in Boston. But by then, the kitchen was a mess, things were out of their place and sprawled on the floor while cupboards and cabinets lay open.


Daisy didn’t care, she remembered then that she had searched before so she just walked like a zombie to her room, half noticing Jide who was snoring away, oblivious of the noise she had made.Stories from Topster–stories


When she got back to the room, her trouble doubled, for minutes later, she started sweating profusely, her body shaking uncontrollably, the worms gnawed at her intestine and she felt a sickening sensation, she was a pile of wreck, more like a drug addict who didn’t get a dose of drug. She was deeply addicted to juice, her hungry stomach compounded the problem and she found herself visiting the toilet to vomit now and then, nothing came out for her stomach was more or less empty, but she went back again nevertheless.


She couldn’t sleep, for hours she just sat on the floor, her back resting on the bed and her hands on her head. It was hours later that sleep came knocking and slowly she had dragged herself to bed.


The reason she woke up late this morning.


Daisy now rolled to the other side of the bed, she was still queasy. She suddenly remembered what Today was. Sunday! and it was their wedding thanksgiving service, still she made no move to stand.


It wasn’t as if there was anything to wear, and her phone wasn’t with her, in all of yesterday activities, she didn’t know who she had given it, and she was sure Jide wouldn’t bother calling the family house. Well, she wasn’t feeling any better herself.


Soon she heard noises. She attuned her ears to it, it was coming from the parlour. ‘Kilonshe gbogbo awon omode yi!’ (What is wrong with all these children?) someone had shouted.


She guessed it to be that of Jide’s father, that must mean the family were here she reasoned. Slowly she started rising up, but stopped when the door flung open, and in came Mama.


‘Daisy, what are you still doing in bed by now? It’s almost eight, iy don’t know you to be a late riser, first service will end by nine and we are booked for then!…’ Mama said, her voice rising with every sentence, she was now by the bed.


Daisy was sitting down now, no movement, her expression blank. She didn’t reply either.


Mama felt her temper rising, if Jide was adamant, atleast not Daisy too.


Noone seem to care.


‘kilo de?’ (What happened?) she asked in yoruba.


Daisy said nothing, she just pulled the blanket up to her folded knee.


Mama pulled down the blanket and fuming still, said:


‘O fe dami lo hun ni? (Don’t you want to answer me?) See the time, its sharp eight o’clock and you nor Jide is


prepared, are you children bent on causing scandals?


‘Daisy!’ she shouted when Daisy still made no move to stand or reply her.


Mama continued complaining in yoruba language, she did so, mostly when she was angry, Daisy understood all she was saying, her 10 years stay in the States hadn’t eroded her knack for the language. she couldn’t speak


it fluently but she understood it quite all right, she had been perfect


in the language due to her long stay in Ijebu-Ode with her grandmother


before she left for Boston to stay with her mother, though the years


took away her ability to speak Yoruba fluently, Mama had made sure she



never lost the language totally. She often than not converse in Yoruba with her. Mama was ranting on about how Jide was so ungrateful, how children of nowadays were spoilt and disrespectful, how nobody seem to appreciate


her one bit, how Daisy seem to have joined in frustrating her and so on…’


Inbetween all of mama’s ranting, Daisy had slide down into the blanket drawing it up to cover her face. You don’t try arguing with Mama when she was this way.


Having said her piece, mama sighed, her anger seem to have dissolved.


She now sat calmly on the bed.


When Daisy noticed Mama was no more talking, she stole a glance at her, peeping from beneath the blanket.


‘Coast clear’ she said quietly to herself and pulled off the blanket.


Standing up she said ‘Mama don’t overwork yourself already, I was feeling sick then’


Mama immediately looked up from where she had bent her head wondering whether she didn’t deserve how she was being treated.


‘Sick! How? When? Why didn’t you tell me?…’ she was now at Daisy side and touching her body.


Mama and her fussing, Daisy thought resignedly.




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