Today.

Today, like I have been doing for the past five years, I woke up as a wife, to a husband who worships the floor I walk on. I knew I was right when I choose him.

 I also woke up a mother to two bubbly kids. Very rude pair if I must add. Samson and I are still wondering where we went wrong with those two- Samson and Lucy. Twins. Five years old. We just kept yelling and threatening without change. But still I adore them and they adore me.

 On this day like every other day, my routine was pretty much the same. Prepare food for the family or they all starve since I hold the key to their survival. After breakfast I moved on to tackle those kids into the school bus like we do every day, I see Little Samson was becoming more mature but Lucy has resolved to be a brat.

 I always blamed Samson for Lucy's attitude and then he blames me back and then we would quarrel. After tossing the children on the school bus, Samson and I would race off to work.

 I am a psychologist at a very fancy secondary school and Mike is into advertising. I returned from work at the same time the children returned from school. 2:00pm.

As is the usual fashion I would prepare food for the children and at the same time bathe them. After that I made ate to their fill before they run off to play and I would scream my head off trying to find out who turned the room upside down or who pinched the other.

 It was this part of my day that I hated the most because it was a constant reminder of how much I failed myself. I remembered the day I choosed to stop practising medicine. It was causing a rift between Samson and I. Let’s just leave it as a rift and not say I was massaging Samson's ego.

I would constantly sit and just visualize how much impact I would have had on the kids if I actually carried out surgical procedures. On afternoons like this, I would have been performing a surgical procedure and the kids would be busy playing somewhere in the hospital or at a day-care someplace.

Samson did not like the idea and I knew I had to compromise. Nevertheless, I loved to see my family happy and happy we were. By 5 pm Samson would return home. Now, this is the part I looked forward to. The kids did not miss him half as much as I did. For two reasons he was the love of my life and I could not stand being alone with the children. Samson was laughing so hard as we crumpled to the floor. The kids seized the opportunity and tried to join the pile.

 The rest of our day was spent doing nothing in particular. We ate Eba-garri and egusi soup from one plate as a family. If you think we did this for the family bond you are wrong. Little Samson and Lucy would have preferred to have their own plate and Samson hated eating with people he would always say “You people do not know how to eat.” 

They all carried out this little ritual for my sakes because I was trying to make my dead grandmother who I believed was constantly looking down at us every evening to be filled with joy.

 My mother always told us stories about grandmothers eating rule but she never imposed it on us. And as a little girl, I could not just help but feel sorry for my grandmother so I took up the challenge to please my dear grandmother once I had my own family.

 Tonight our meal went well. I was surprised the children ate to their fill. They hated Eba so much.

 There was power so we watched a movie that was rated 18. I always knew in my heart that Samson and I were bad parents but saying it out loud ate up every consolation I had said to help myself have a successful journey to my dreams every night.

 The characters were about to kiss each other passionately in the rain when armed men burst into our home. I know that it was no use pointing fingers but it had to be said I always told Samson to replace the security light outside but he refused.

We fell to our knees in a plea. Lucy and Samson would not stop crying I begged for mercy but the mercy I got was a gunshot on my forehead, Samson, on the other hand, was beaten and eventually shot in his legs and finally his forehead. The robber towered over my kids who were completely shaken.

 If you summed up my children’s fear for Samson and myself it was nothing compared to the fear the children had for this intruder and his friends. The armed man pointed his gun at my little boy and shot him. He actually meant to shoot Lucy but he was too high on whatever he was smoking to see clearly.

Apparently, he was instructed by Samson's jealous lover to only threaten us and not kill us. She was hoping Samson would divorce me after this. I guess better luck next time.

Although Lucy was not killed, my little girl died that night too. She was no longer bubbly but she was still rude. She lived with my parents and she gave them all the headache I never had the chance to give them. Lucy grew up to be nothing like me. She never became a mother nor a wife. I was hoping she would be a doctor at least but she chose to become a farmer living in solitary.

 Lucy remembered us all. And the night she was left alone was forever fresh in her memory. But she lied to herself and everyone that she remembered nothing about us and that night. “It’s better this way” she lied to herself before she embraced sleep every night.

Lucy forever saw the dawn of a new day as a privilege. She hated it.