On Black Sisters Street by Chika Unigwe

Author:Chika Unigwe [Unigwe, Chika]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780679604464
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2011-04-25T14:00:00+00:00

MAMA EKO WAS NOT CONVINCED BY HER STORY THAT DELE WAS SENDING her to Europe to work as a nanny to the three-year-old daughter of a rich Jewish family, and she told her so. “Me, I have never been to obodo oyibo, but I am sure they have enough nannies for their children there without having to import one from Africa. Count your teeth with your tongue. I’ve spoken. I’ve said my own.”

“The ones from Africa are cheaper, Mama Eko, they don’t charge as much as the oyibo ones do,” Ama countered, worrying that Mama Eko would discover her lie.

Mama Eko said, “I don’t trust that Dele. Not one little bit. I joke with him and laugh with him, he is my customer, but I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. I don’t trust that man at all at all. I wish I could make you stay, but I can see that you are determined to go. Since I can’t stop you, I want you to promise me that you’ll look after yourself.”

“I will. I am a big girl, Mama. Don’t worry about me.”

There were tight hugs and maybe even a few tears, and just before Ama left for the airport Mama Eko sneaked a tiny gold crucifix into her hand. “May God guide you, nwa m.” Ama was touched. Nobody had ever cared for her in that way, had given her a sense of totally belonging, but even that was not enough to stop her from anticipating with delight the start of her new life.

Antwerp welcomed her the day she arrived, engulfing her in a sunny summer embrace that shocked her, as she had thought Europe was always cold. She would hear later that the summer of 2000 was one of the hottest summers Belgium had ever seen. Her hair itched under the long extensions that came down to her midback, and she regretted the corduroy trousers and matching jacket she had chosen to travel in. They were a parting gift from Dele. He had told her the airplane could get cold and there was nothing like corduroy for keeping warm on a cold plane. It did get cold on the plane, and she was glad for the warmth of the corduroy suit, but no one had warned her that once she got off the plane temperatures could get fevered. In all the stories she had heard about abroad, she had never heard it said that it could be so hot she would wish she had worn a sleeveless dress.

She had nothing loose to change into, having brought along only clothes that would keep her warm in the cold of Europe: sweaters and thick trousers and shawls that she had bought at the secondhand market. She was not at all prepared for this heat that got between the skin and clothes like the heat of Lagos.

“I can lend you something to wear,” Efe, the woman who brought her lunch, offered. “We are almost the same size, after all.

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