BATTLE FOR HIS HEART
EPISODE 9
The next morning, the house was unusually quiet. Mama Kunle didn’t come out for breakfast, and Amara felt both relief and guilt. She didn’t want Mama Kunle to leave, but she also knew she couldn’t continue living under constant tension.
Kunle knocked on his mother’s door. “Mama, please let’s talk.”
No response.
He sighed and turned to Amara. “She’s still upset.”
Amara nodded. “Maybe she just needs time to calm down.”
But they were wrong.
An hour later, Mama Kunle emerged from her room with a small travel bag. She wore a stern expression, refusing to meet Amara’s eyes.
Kunle stood up. “Mama, where are you going?”
Mama Kunle adjusted her wrapper. “Since my son has chosen his wife over his own mother, what am I still doing here?”
Kunle sighed. “Mama, please don’t do this.”
Mama Kunle shook her head. “No, Kunle. You have made your decision, and I have made mine.”
Amara stepped forward cautiously. “Mama, please stay. I know we have had our differences, but we can work through them.”
Mama Kunle’s eyes flashed with anger. “Work through what? You have already won!”
Kunle ran a frustrated hand over his face. “Mama, nobody is winning or losing. I just want peace.”
Mama Kunle snorted. “You will have your peace.” She picked up her bag and walked toward the door.
Kunle followed her. “Mama, if you leave like this, how do you expect me to feel?”
Mama Kunle turned to him. “You should feel exactly how I feel—betrayed.”
With that, she walked out, leaving Kunle and Amara in heavy silence.
For the first few days after Mama Kunle’s departure, the house felt strange. It was peaceful, but Kunle was moody. Amara knew he missed his mother, even though he didn’t say it.
One evening, as they sat on the couch watching TV, Kunle sighed. “I feel bad, Amara.”
Amara looked at him. “I know.”
Kunle shook his head. “No matter what, she is my mother. I don’t want us to be like this.”
Amara hesitated before saying, “Maybe you should visit her.”
Kunle nodded. “I think I will.”
The next day, Kunle drove to his mother’s house. When he knocked, she opened the door but didn’t look pleased to see him.
“Mama, how are you?” Kunle asked softly.
Mama Kunle folded her arms. “What do you want?”
Kunle sighed. “I came to check on you.”
Mama Kunle scoffed. “So, your wife allowed you to come?”
Kunle frowned. “Mama, please stop this.”
Mama Kunle stared at him for a moment, then stepped aside. “Come in.”
Kunle entered the house and sat on the couch. The house smelled like palm oil stew, and for a moment, nostalgia hit him. He missed his mother’s cooking.
“Mama, I miss you,” Kunle said sincerely.
Mama Kunle sighed but didn’t respond.
Kunle continued, “I don’t want us to be like this. You are my mother, and I love you.”
Mama Kunle’s eyes softened slightly. “I love you too, Kunle. But I don’t trust that woman.”
Kunle exhaled. “Mama, you need to give her a chance.”
Mama Kunle shook her head. “I have made up my mind.”
Kunle frowned. “Mama, what does that mean?”
Mama Kunle gave him a long look before saying, “You will find out soon enough.”
A chill ran through Kunle’s spine. “Mama, what are you planning?”
But Mama Kunle just smiled mysteriously and said, “You will see.”
That night, when Kunle returned home, Amara immediately knew something was wrong.
“What happened?” she asked.
Kunle hesitated. “She said she has made up her mind about you.”
Amara swallowed. “What does that mean?”
Kunle shook his head. “I don’t know. But I have a bad feeling.”
And he was right.
Because Mama Kunle was about to launch her biggest attack yet.
TO BE CONTINUED…