by
Obododimma Oha
The return of our mothers from the market when we were
children was a great thing. It was a moment for songs, for performances. We sang
Mama alọta!
Oyooyo!
Mama alọta!
Oyooyo!
(Roughly translated as
"Mother has returned!
Oyooyo!).
Quite clearly, one was celebrating, celebrating her and her return, while also thinking of the inevitable chewables one could find in her bundle.
Mama alọta!
Oyooyo!
And she was a celebrity. Who thinks return is an insignificant thing? That person has lost it. It was the thrill of return and the making of the returnee a celebrity that caused one joker in our village to adopt a call-and-response name to proverbially couch a critique. Listen to him:
X: Nne nwata lọ ahịa,
Y (response): ọ̀ dị ka nke ibe ya agaghi alọ.
(X: If a child's mother returns from the market,
Y (response) it would look as if that of the other child would not return also).
Do you blame that child for celebrating? If she had remained in the market after doing her shopping, something must have been wrong! She had to return to ignite "Mama alọta, oyooyo!" That child is waiting to start the song. If she stays on after shopping, she could turn to a vulture or "gofment pickin" (euphemism for "mad person" in Nigeria). But she was none of the two. She was "mama" and needed to return to ignite a song.
She deserved the celebrated return. She did. She had to spend some time searching for the most delicious akara bean cakes as "ihe ahia" (as gifts bought and brought from the market by parents were known). That "market thing" was special and the children saw it as the symbol and summary of going-to-the-market narrative. How could somebody go to the market and forget a "market thing"? It seemed the person did not get to the market! Maybe the person only peeped and greeted market people passing by.
But she brought "market thing" to prove her having gone there, to interact with the voices, and to express her deep affection and something for the song.
Every return speaks about departure and could be a departure. When she was away, there was anxiety. All looked forward to her return. Those rehearsing and rehearsing their "Mama alọta" song were wondering what "market thing" she would bring back. What she had decided to bring back was known to her alone. But she would make a good choice, surely.
The meaning of her journey to the market was care. It was care for others that took her to market. Just like Jesus went to Golgotha because of other people. She had checked the house and had recorded what were lacking in her head. At the market, she haggled to get the best prices for everyone and for everything, not just what she liked herself. She carried the others in her heart and spoke for them as she haggled. So, we were not surprised that care also brought her back as a celebrity.
When she returns from the market finally and her daughters are chanting, "Nne le!" (Behold great mother), she would be full of great joy and would dance for them. And "Mama alọta" would have a fuller meaning.
Her return from the market was great joy in her family. That family was lucky, very lucky. Her homestead must be where this "Mama alọta!" was issuing from and making the evening envious. But she deserved her heroic welcome. I heard that yesterday her little one was crying even after eating his own ration and she was in great agony. I heard that when she had just swallowed her first mould of akpụ the fermented cassava flour. She looked at him and shook her head. then she washed her hands again and allowed him to eat her ration. That was her way: staying hungry so that others might eat; dying so that others might live! But today, she is a celebrity.
I see her in my memory returning happy because her "market thing" is well-wrapped and safe in her bundle. When she brings down her bundle, she is bringing out "market thing," and "Mama alọta" would be louder.
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