If you’ve ever thought for a second what your mum taking edibles would look like, this perfectly describes it. 

1:35 p.m.

It’s Sunday. Mumsi is home alone. She didn’t go to church today because she’s feeling tired after yesterday’s owambe. She cannot come and kill herself. When will her own daughter get married? She opens the freezer to look for what to eat and sees a cake. “Ahn ahn, Elizabeth had cake in this house, and she didn’t tell me? Na wa o. When she comes back, she won’t see it here.”

The cake has three slices. She puts two on a small plate and goes to sit in front of the TV. “Let’s see what is showing on Africa Magic.”

2:03 p.m.

She’s laughing uncontrollably. Ah, this Odunlade is funny o. See how he’s just making me laugh. 

2:10 p.m.

She’s still giggling. This time, she’s on the floor. Something’s not right. This is the fourth time she’s watching this movie na. Didn’t she see this scene before? This isn’t even Odunlade’s funniest movie. “Omolara, you’re 54; please control yourself. Ahn ahn.”

Maybe she just needs to sleep. She checks and sees that there are only 30 minutes left in the movie. She’ll sleep after. 

40 minutes later…

These Africa Magic people have started doing nonsense with the timing of these movies. Why hasn’t this movie ended? She checks the time again… only five minutes have passed.

2:15 p.m.


Now, it feels like the floor is moving. Time seems to be going… but also not going. “Omolara, what is happening?”

2:35 p.m.

She’s speaking in tongues now. “Every spiritual attack on my family, die by fire! Every evil arrow of insanity targeted at me, back to sender!” Everything still feels funny and loopy, but she doesn’t care. She’s battling it out in the place of prayer. 

After praying for what seems like an eternity, she realises only five minutes have passed again. 

She cannot handle this battle alone. Reverend has to step in. 

She calls her husband, “Daddy Eliza, be coming home now now! Bring pastor with you. We are under spiritual attack! Be fast, be fast!” She’s too paranoid to explain, but they need to get to the house as soon as they can. 

3:06 p.m. 

She’s been lying in one position since the call, waiting for pastor and Daddy Eliza to get home, when she suddenly remembers Elizabeth. What if the devil is attacking her too? 

“Hello, Elizabeth! Start coming home now now!

Which stupid photoshoot? I said our family is under attack, you’re talking about photoshoot. Ma stress mi, omo yi. Take a bike and find your way to this house, please.” 

Elizabeth’s POV

3:06 p.m.

She’s rushing out of her photoshoot. The photographer is confused. “I’m so so so sorry. I have to go. Urgent family issues. I’ll text you.”

4:33 p.m.

She’s finally at the house gate. Traffic was bad; daddy hasn’t picked any of his calls. She’s super scared. As she enters the compound, she sees an extra car. Reverend’s Sienna. What’s happening? 

She enters the house and hears shouts from the living room.

Her mum is on the floor, rolling and speaking in tongues. She’s never seen her dad cry before, but he’s kneeling beside her, wailing. Pastor is praying over them both. As he sees her, he points to her. 

“My daughter, come and join them. Your family is under attack! Your mother doesn’t know what is wrong with her. Kneel down, kneel down!”

Confused, she kneels. She’s saying amen. But something catches her eyes. There’s a white plate on the table with chocolate smudges. 

“Pastor, please I want to use the bathroom.”

She goes to the freezer to check on her edibles. There’s just one slice left. She doesn’t know whether to laugh, cry, tell them the truth or go back to join the prayers. Has she not chopped generational curses like this?

8:30 p.m.

Mumsi is finally asleep. She started feeling better by like 6 p.m. but things were still looking like they were moving. For her red eyes, she’s set an appointment with the optician for Monday morning. Pastor is sleeping in the guest room just in case the attack starts again. 

The devil almost won, but for now, glory be to God. 

Just Imagine: If Google Maps Was Your Nigerian Mother



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