The Devil Within | The Ink Well Creative Nonfiction

Will my mother ever forgive me this time?

This was the question that gave Nnanna and I the ears to listen to our younger brother, Iyke. The past few weeks have been like hell for everyone at home, dad inclusive.

Three weeks ago, my mother's piggy bank was looted without any mark on it but all the money inside it had disappeared. Everyone of us was a suspect. Mother was so angry that she refused to even enter the kitchen to prepare food. Without being asked, we could see that she was in pain.

When she found out that her piggy bank had been robbed, she came to the living room with the piggy bank in her hand as we all gathered to hold our morning devotion. Instead of her to lead us in the usual morning worship session before dad would take up the Bible study and prayers, mom started by clearing her throat and said:

Good morning Dim (Greeting our dad). The worst has happened and this time, I am not going to make it to sleep.

Mother sounded so serious and her voice coarse like someone who had stressed out her voice overnight.

Nkem, do not over stress yourself on this matter. This is bound to happen when you have children of this magnitude in the house.

As if one had added fuel to fire, mom shouted dad down on hearing that statement.

Don't tell me not to over-stress myself. My savings for a whole year won't go down the drain just like that.

At this juncture, we haven't come to the realisation of what was actually wrong. The conversation had been just with mum and day all along. Then, mom turned toward my direction and said:

If you know what's good for you, return all the money you took from my piggy bank, else, all hell will be let loose.

I stared there in awe of what mom just said. The last thing I would ever attempt is to steal.

Mom! Your piggy bank? Do you have a piggy bank?

It was like mom confused me the moment she mentioned piggy bank. In this dispensation and time, do people still use piggy banks to save their money?

As the oldest of all my children, you should know who went to the kitchen or notice any suspicious move by anyone.

Now, I am totally confused.

In the kitchen? Haba! Mom, the kitchen is like a public facility in this house and everyone enters there.

I couldn't question her for deciding to put her piggy bank in the kitchen. Perhaps she had her reasons but for me, it wasn't the best decision.

Norma Mortenson

While all this interrogation was on, dad was there watching in silence. I didn't know what was ruminating in his mind but I know now much of a disciplinarian my father is. He must be thinking of a way out.

I want this issue to remain within this place until I find a possible solution to it.

My dad's baritone voice broke the few seconds of silence that ensued. We ended the morning devotion on that note without a word of prayer. While we took different directions into our rooms, dad stayed put in the living room, probably thinking of a move. My sibling and I got dressed, ready for school but the dining room was not set for breakfast. That was a huge sign that mom was not in a happy mood. The kitchen is her favourite spot in the whole house and she finds pleasure preparing our meals but today is not just for her.

Dad took all four of us to school. He was kind enough to take us to the fast food restaurant close to our school where he bought us rice and drinks. I knew at that instance that my dad was up to something but what it was that he had set out to do was what I could not place at the moment.

We got home after school and yet there was no food on the dining table, mom had gone to work without the necessary preparations for us. I asked my younger brothers to go and freshen up before taking up their assignments. We all did and started our assignments. Then, Iyke's friend, Kenneth knocked at the door and came in.

Hi guys!

He shook hands with Iyke. His books in his hands as usual and then sat with us while attempting our homework. After a while, Kenneth moved to the kitchen.

I need to take some water, it seems like I am dehydrated.

As a family friend and a brother from a distance, Kenneth was free to go to any part of our house except our parents room.

The next thing we heard from the living room was:

My hand, my hand. Somebody help.

We all rushed to the kitchen with me at the forefront. What we saw as unbelievable. All along, dad had been indoors without any of us knowing. He only came out when the loud noise from Kenneth broke the air.

What the heck are you doing with that piggy bank?

Dad shouted from the living room as he marched toward the kitchen to meet all of us. Kenneth glued to the piggy bank. He struggled helplessly to release himself but the more he tried the more it worsened.

In my mind, I knew dad had it all planned out. The thief who had been ravaging our home is finally in the net of my dad's security mechanism. Iyke felt bad because it was his friend who had been the devil in the must. Dad did not stop there, he followed Kenneth to his parents and ensured that all the stolen items were recovered and peace returned to our home.