She was a baker and philanthropist: she went to the market
She did not stop at the abattoir neither did she stop at the grocery stall
She hissed when ‘iya ibeji’ called her to buy pepper
She finally stopped at the twine shop
The twine seller was out of twine so she bought a muffler in place of twine
As she walked towards her car
She heard a trader say, ‘that’s the nice woman who runs the big orphanage’
And heard another respond, ‘but she has no child of her own’
She covered her mouth muffling her sobs
But cleaned her tears thinking about the solace her muffler could later bring
As she drove off
The beggars sang, ‘mummy, mummy, mummy’
She reasoned how melodious such song would be if it came from her child
She almost cried but she looked at her muffler and smiled
She pulled over at the gasoline station
The attendant said, ‘you are beautiful’
On her way home, she remembered what he said
She blushed with a sweet sixteen smile
The thought almost made her throw the muffler out the window
She then thought how elated she would have been if those words came from her husband who left ten years ago because he wanted a child
She sobbed, flushing her blush
She got home, her deserter husband left her a letter with pictures enclosed
He wrote her to engage her services to bake him cake at his eight year old twin birthday
She went behind the house by the tree planted by her husband
She tied her muffler so high on the tree
And lifted herself so high by the neck just to go to rest.
by
Jesutowo Adekola Adeniji