Why I Am Scared Of Mother In Laws Part 1: By Joy Eneghalu

I don’t hate them because one day I will be one. I don’t pray for them to die as some people do because I will be one some day. I also have a mother and anyone who says such a prayer for her as the holy spirit to contend with.

You are also aware that I am not married but there is no name for a boyfriend’s mum. We should coin that word soon. But for the sake of this post, I will use “Mother In Law”.

This fear happened out of an experience I had. I travelled to the city where bobo and his family lived. I was so excited to see him and so as I settled, he told me his mum was around.

“Oh. Nice.” I thought.

He went ahead to tell me that I should follow him. According to him, his mum was inside.

Take a break.

*************
Now in my own home, when someone comes visiting and needs to greet my mum, we offer you a sit in the parlour. Then, we go ahead to inform her of the person’s presence. Sometimes, she may be in her room or in the kitchen. Other times, outside the house tending to the things she planted. She takes her time before she eventually comes out to say hi. She gists a little with the person (this is how she gets to know the person) and then excuses herself.

Welcome back.
*****************

So, I refused to follow my bobo inside because I had assumed she was in her room and it was wrong to enter her room considering it was my first time there. African mothers have a way of changing it for you. The next thing you will here is “She is a gbaza queen”. I didn’t want that.

He went in and after a while, he came out. We got talking and as we were talking, his mum came out too. I stood up and even geneflected to greet her (the Yoruba girl in me wins when in front of elders). She sat down and asked me a couple of questions before she excused herself.

” Oh, she is like my mum”, I thought.

*****************
I returned to base and I didn’t even last one hour after my return when I got a call from bobo. After asking about my welfare, he went on to say that his mother wasn’t happy with me.

“Ah ah. What I do?” I thought

“She said you have no respect and you are mannerless because you waited for her to come greet you first.”

My jaw dropped open over the phone. Do you mean my mum didn’t do a good job?

“Such strong words. I totally disagree” I thought.

“You told me she was inside, right? I didn’t want to be seen as an uninvited tourist. That’s why I sat one place. I only visited and sat in the parlour”. I said. ” Alright. Send me her phone number, let me call and apologise ”

He sent the number and I called her. She goes “No o. No problem. It is alright, my dear”.

I looked up, down,left and right.

” She didn’t sound pissed” I thought.

I already called. She is happy. Nothing went wrong. She understands me now. It won’t affect what I have with her son. Everything was alright.

Or so I thought.

Weeks later, her son called to tell me that his mother said she didn’t like women from Nnewi.

I’m done. Go and create your own bae. (You know I didn’t sound this way.)

I was hurt sha or so I thought.

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