“Take it. You are old enough to stop knocking.”
Those were the words that came out of my mother's mouth while I was standing beside the kitchen door, while I was also using left hanyto hold a copper bunch of keys. I only laughed because it was an ordinary Sunday evening, and I was already getting late for where I was planning to go. The hot plate has refused to work, the television was playing on the middle volume from the sitting room, while one of my cousins was asking asking for bread and butter.
Well, nothing about that evening was funny not even looked important.
I just left for where I was going after eating Amala and egusi soup. I almost opening the gate when My mum called me, "Don't be later, you know how everywhere is these days." Not her first time of telling me that, she always said that, saw her looking at me as I opened the gate and left. I remembered smiling at what she said like I was still a small boy, while I walked down the street.
The woman selling provision at the junction was arranging some of her goods for evening market sale. The bike man was calling passengers but no one in particular. Even that evening, rain started and went like it hand done several times.
Before the night came, I already left and was done with what I went to do and I was already back home. I met my mum preparing night food, my favourite actually. I greeted her as I also carried her along on what I went to do.
"I have gotten the new apartment," I said
She stopped with the food preparation.
“Where?”
I told her the street. She asked if that's not too far and asked when I'll be leaving. I told her when.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she picked up the spoon and continued with her cooking.
"so the copper key was not for today," she said.
I looked at the key where I left it before going out.
“What do you mean?”
“I dropped it there because from Wednesday, you will be locking your own door.” I told her.
She smiled, but I could hear something changing inside the sentence.
After our conversation, I walked round the house more slowly that I have ever done. I met my brother watching a live football match between his club and the other club. The ceiling fan was making the usually clicking sound. I could hear the neighbours having some random discussion. My shoes were still where I left it since I came back from church that morning.
Everything was exactly where I had left it.
That was what made it strange.
I had spent years imagining in my head that moving out of the house would start with my small traveling bag, a farewell, and some not so dramatic final moments. And before I even imagined vividly, my last normal day was already happening.
On Wednesday morning, my mother stood at the gate with my traveling bag while I was waiting for the cab to pick me up. She never cried but I saw the expression on her face. She simply pressed the copper key I left into my palm again.
And I understood why she did that this time. It was not actually a key to a door. But it was actually the first small thing in my hand that belonged to the person I was becoming.
Thank you for reading.
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