THE STRANGER IN MY HOME

He placed his hand in front of the mirror, breathing heavily.

He looked at himself but did not see himself.

He saw a stranger holding the very mirror that was in his hand.

And as he turned around, he realised the mirror did not lie at all.

The stranger had been holding the mirror all these while, but he did not see him until... he looked back.

THE DAY OF ARRIVAL...

“We’re home.” Chief Okafor smiled at the tall green 6-bedroom duplex standing in front of him, “Nne, we’re home.”

Madam Okafor did not pay attention to her husband’s words. All she cared about was not letting her baby girl, 3-year-old Chidinma, touch the dusty floor. That was her princess, her world.

“Chief! Honey! Wake ejima (twins) and bring them inside!” Madam Okafor instructed her husband.

He did not respond. He was still in awe at his childhood home that he inherited from his late father years ago.

It had been a long trip for the Mbeze Okafor family who just arrived at their home in Awka, Anambra State, after two years of not visiting.

But was home still home after it had been left to starve for two years?

Chief Okafor got the twins, Chima and Chike, out of the car with their sleepy eyes, almost bumping into the gateman who was struggling to carry Madam Okafor’s oversized Gucci box.

Emeka, the gateman, was thrilled to see his oga and his family return home for the Christmas holiday and could not wait to taste Madam Okafor’s delicious isi ewu (goat head) the former gateman had boasted to him about.

“The next time there is a pandemic, we will be here.” Chief said to his wife as he entered the master’s bedroom after dropping the twins off in their bedroom.

“God forbid.” Madam Okafor muttered under her breath.

She hated the Christmas Holidays at Anambra. From greeting one million family members, to cooking in bulk together with top class gossipers, to serving Chief and his friends palm wine and kola nuts every night, to visiting Awgbu village to watch masquerades roam the streets and to also greet Igwe Benedict Nwaeze of their kingdom, the same community that Chief Okafor had become the youngest chief in.

Though Chief Okafor lived for these moments, Madam Okafor would rather die than see another day of it.

Thankfully, this holiday would be different. Because Madam Okafor made sure no one knew they were coming to Awka for Christmas.

Madam Okafor slumped on the bed and took off her medicated glasses, groaning about how sore they were making her eyes feel.

“I say make una no wear dis glasses for moto (car), una no wan hear.”

“Honey,” She gave him a warning glare, “I have warned you about speaking pidgin in this house.”

“Aanhan, na just both of us dey here.”

“English, please.”

Chief Okafor sighed and sat next to his wife and stretched out his hand to her, “Nne. Mama ejima-”

“It’s ‘darling’.” She slapped his hands away and got up from the bed, “When you’re ready to talk like an Mbeze Okafor man, talk to me.”

With that, she left the room and slammed the door. Chief Okafor could not help but laugh at his spoilt wife’s attitude.