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Cruising Single Episode 4: The Good Son

Abdulmalik, the good son was all about being a good son. His ambition in life was to be a good son, only to his mother because he and his father had to resolve their issues first before he could be a good son to him. Abdulmalik was introduced to me by our mutual aunt( you know those aunties that make it their calling in life to match make all their friends’ children of marriageable age- yeah I have plenty of those!). Our dear aunt insisted we would make a good match because we both liked food. That is I like to cook and Abdulmalik likes to eat… match made in heaven like bread and butter (that is what our dear aunty said).

Not quite.

The Good Son was a well mannered gentleman. He was smart, He was funny and he was ready to marry me. We got along very well except that every other sentence was ‘ my mama this’ or ‘my mama that’. He always called his father ‘heartless oppressive dictator’; words that I could tell were from her Supreme Motherliness. It was tiring. It was irritating but the elders say Marriage is Patience.

The Supreme Mother and Commander In Chief was the third person in our relationship. She was always calling or texting him. Everything I did and said was viewed through her lenses. All his comments compared me to the Supreme mother and commander in chief.

And so when our dear aunty suggested that I should go and meet the Supreme Mother and Commander In Chief Of Abdulmalik Republic, I decided to wear my Sallah best to impress her Supreme Motherliness! I no know say na bad thing I do..

After weeks of our relationship, the good son took me to greet the Commander In Chief of his Republic – the supreme mother herself. I sat in the living room trying to display my daughter in law worthiness when she remarked that my wrapper looked cheap for a Super Wax.

‘Is that the latest expensive imported Europe printed Super Wax on your body?’

When I heard that I knew I was in trouble. No answer would be correct to appease the Supreme Mother; if I answered yes, she would berate me for wearing expensive clothes at my age, if I said no, she would insult me for not being glamorous enough to wear Super Wax. I decided to do as my mother taught me: to tell the truth always. Honesty is the best Policy!

‘Yes ma, Super Wax ne’

She sneered at me as if she wanted to peel my face off. I looked her straight in the eye. In my mind I was being defiant.

‘How come you can afford such an expensive wrapper? Is it the only one you have?’

The home training alarm bells in my body were ringing wildly for me to shut my mouth up amma Inaa I ignored them and replied her.

‘How come you raised such a gentleman is he your only son?’

She was flabbergasted and astounded, but most importantly she was quiet.

On the way home, the good son was livid. He was going on and on about how I had been rude to his mother and how she had magnanimously forgiven me because she had such a gentle and caring heart. O sheee Mother Theresa!!!

When I was sure that he had brought me back home safely. I told him to be fair to me, and that set him off on this tantrum like a five year old. The home training alarm bells started ringing again and I could not ignore them anymore, so I called him an overgrown baby pretending to be a man who was looking for a nanny but pretending he was looking for a wife.

I also told him I did not want to cook for him for life anymore.

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