Gladys nodded and her mother hugged her close.
“You understand that if not for God and our tight finances, you wouldn‘t be going to stay at Isioma‘s place in Lagos?”
“I know Mama, but things are getting better. You said so yourself.”
“Yes I did…”
As her mother spoke, the electricity was cut off. They both laughed because this was the second time in as many hours. Gladys opened the windows and turned up the kerosene lamp burning low in the corner. As she placed it on a table, shadows jumped across the faded walls. She sat back beside her mother on the low bed. It had a double mattress, one of which she threw on the floor when it was time to sleep.
Her mother continued speaking. “It may not be easy living with your aunt though. We don‘t have much, but this is your home and you have the run of it. It could be a different situation in Lagos. Isioma is a very wealthy woman and we‘re the poor relatives. It is possible she expects you to work around the place as some sort of house help.”
“I understand and won‘t mind if that is the case. I am not afraid of hard work.”
“I know Ada‘m. You‘re my first and only daughter and I did my best to train you well. No matter what happens, please, be a good ambassador for me.”
“I will Mama, and trust me, it will all come out right.”
“I pray so. Your aunt might be amongst the rich people of this world, but I have taught you that true wealth is friendship with God. For reasons known best to her, Isioma kept away from us for over fifteen years. Do not give her grounds now to complain or call me bad names. Any time you want to come home, remember we‘re here with open arms.”
Tears sprang to her eyes and she hugged her mother tight. “Thank you Mama.”
“It will be well Ada‘m.” Her mother called her the pet name again, smoothing her hair.
Gladys travelled by the cheaper night bus two weeks later and arrived before dawn. She knew Lagos had about fifteen million people - over five times the size of Enugu - but it was an eye-opener seeing it herself. As she wandered out of the Peace Mass Transit bus station, the motor park just ahead was a noisy chaos with hundreds of battered yellow buses parked at random. The toots of vehicle horns, mobile phones, and loud shouts assaulted her ears. It was her first time in the crowded city, and she hoped to meet someone who would advise her on the best route to Victoria Island. Her wealthy aunt was not much help as she never used public transport.