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Friday Fiction Mom: Obiageli Danjuma

Happy Friday! Hope you had a wonderful Mother’s Day. Whether you were celebrated or you celebrated someone else, hope it was enjoyable. Today I get to introduce you to no stranger to this blog Obiageli Danjuma. Mrs. Danjuma is the mother of Rasheed, Jabir & Kamal from the Sons of Ishmael series. She took over this blog right before her son Jabir’s story was released. If you missed it you can read it here

Here is an excerpt from the first book in the Sons of Ishmael series, A Scoop of Love

Rasheed took in a deep breath. The aroma of her onugbu soup filled the room. His stomach roared for attention, but it would have to wait. This discussion needed to be had now.

After her routine doctor visit this morning, the doctor was concerned about her blood pressure and had recommended low stress and a change in diet.

“Mama, you heard what the doctor said. You have to change your cooking and eating habits.”

“I’m fine.”

Her reply rattled him. Her health was paramount and it displeased him that she seemed so nonchalant about it. She must have seen the worried looked on his face.

“Stop frowning. I’m not dead yet—”

He stood up and walked into the kitchen to get a bottle of water. The humidity was higher than usual today.

When he returned his mother continued, “Stop worrying. I have no intention of leaving you and your brothers now. Especially since none of you have given me grandchildren yet.” She paused. “You worry about me too much and I understand that, but I’m okay. I have made peace a long time ago. Right now, I need to talk to you. And don’t dismiss me.”

“Mama, whatever it is can wait until we get this squared away.”

“I’m not deaf. I was there and heard what the doctor said.”

“Okay, but—”

“But nothing. What I have to tell you is important.” His mother fidgeted with her chair, returning it to the upright position.

“What is it, Mama?”

She paused, looked up to the ceiling as though asking God for help, then continued, “Nna, I don’t have to tell you the story of my life, the good, the bad and the ugly. The one regret I have is exposing you to the ugly for so long.”

“Mama, what are you talking about? Why are you sounding like this?” Rasheed didn’t know where she was going with this speech, but he didn’t like it. It wasn’t like she deliberately put herself in misery, but it happened. So why was she acting as if she wasn’t the victim in all this?

“I’m saying this because I don’t like where your life is headed.”

“What’s wrong with my life? I have a good job, a house in London, and I can afford to give you the best.”

“That’s just it. I’ve watched you over the years focus on only material things.”

He clenched his jaw. This was a topic he didn’t like discussing, but he knew his mother wouldn’t let up ‘til they did.

He remained silent and she continued, “I’m not telling you not to go after your dreams and desires, but don’t allow the need to prove something to yourself deprive you of living. It’s been years. Stop letting it consume you. Have you given more thought to your father’s will?”

End

“She turned to the sunlight And shook her yellow head,And whispered to her neighbor- -Winter is dead.”

Here is a second excerpt from the second book in the series, Anchored By Love.

Jabir reread his email and sent it to Ashton, then shut his laptop just as his mother reentered the kitchen. She had changed into one of her lounging Ankara bou bous. She pulled on his cheek and walked to the counter.

“Ouch. Mama, I’m not a kid anymore.” He rubbed the spot. From old pictures, one could see he and Kamal had humongous cheeks when they were babies. His mother apparently didn’t mind that those cheeks had long disappeared. She still pulled on them any chance she got.

“Hush now. You’ll always be my baby. All of you.” She measured rice from the bag and washed it. “Speaking of children, do I have to ask about Damisi, or are you going to tell me?”

Jabir thought to stall, but then his mother was going to bug him to death until he gave up the information she wanted.

“Your hunch was right. We’re having twins.” Jabir said.

His mother dropped the pot on the burner with more force than necessary. The water splashed on the fire. But she obviously could care less about the sizzling sound it made. She stood in shock. Then she broke into a dance and crooned the song “Imela,” which meant “God has done well” in her native Igbo language.

“So where is my daughter? What have you two planned? When is the wedding?” his mother asked without taking a breath. She leaned against the counter.

“Mama, easy. She’s in Kenya.” Jabir told his mother what was going on with Damisi’s father’s health. She then insisted they say a prayer for him right then. After the prayer, she looked at him. He saw the intensity in her eyes.

“My grandchildren cannot be born out of wedlock.”

“Mama, she has to agree to marry me first, abi?”

“Did you ask her?”

“Err…yes. Kind of.”

His mother frowned. “What does that mean? Chike?”

“Oh Lord Mama, not the Igbo name…” his mother always called them by their middle names when she was angry, disappointed or wanted something they couldn’t give.

“Jabir Chike Danjuma, did you ask her or did you throw your weight around?” She placed her hand on her hip. “See, I know each and every one of my sons and what they are capable of doing.”

End

I love Obageli, she went through so much but raised her sons right. Get to know her more in the Sons of Ishmael series. Click here

nyc

Blessings

Unoma