A road rescue

"Victor, Victor, come in!!!", she screamed in the middle of the market, it was sometimes in the middle of 2013. That would probably be the loudest I've heard her speak, a voice that wouldn't pierce through a paper wall but surgically goes through the heart.

She yanked me off the market's busy road like the angel did to Peter in prison. She did so with so much twisting and turning of her steering, a maneuver that was capable of debilitating one's wrist. Finally, She found a parking space, not so big, her concern for me was definitely bigger than the space. If she had worn white or had wings, I would have thought she saved Peter.

For Peter, it was a light that shone on him, for me, it was her love. A love so bright, the type that endures pain, all just so she could be her brother's keeper, although in this case, her son's keeper.

"What are you doing around here?", she asked with a gum in her mouth, chewing it softly with finesse. Her glasses were tilted to the half of her nose, it was quite typical of her.

"I'm coming from school ma, the cab took this route", I responded, patting my face with a hankie. She bevelled the A.C in my direction as I was speaking, she knew I needed it. The sun was scorching, it was the type meant for sun drying fish, even though the only difference between me and a sun-dried fish was that I was fairer.

Just like the fish vomited Jonah on dry ground after 3 days, She drove me to a comfortable spot where I could easily get a taxi home after some time in the traffic.

If your guess is as good as mine, you would know what must have happened before I came down from her car. It's exactly what you're thinking. A brand new note, very neat and crispy, the exact opposite of what I looked like that day.

In the same manner a visitor will always pretend like they don't know food is coming, I wanted to rush out of the car after saying, "Thank you ma". I heard that soft voice again, "oh wait Victor, let me see...", she muttered.

"Don't worry ma, you have done so much for me (I cannot tell it all 🎶) , I can even trek home from here (even though I would prefer not to)", I retorted. She insisted I take the money.

It was that day I concluded that giving for her was like oxygen, it's like she always does it so she could live, and you would agree she was so reckless at it.

Late Dr. (Mrs) Abiola Omowumi Soibi Tobin will ALWAYS see you, she's always concerned about one's concern.

It's 11:44am on my phone's screen, January 13th, it's a beautiful Monday morning, a smile on my face, my head rested on a pillow, and it's with this loving memory of you that I say,

Happy 56th posthumous birthday ma🎉.