Daddy: Daddy

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83 6 here was a knock on the door and I went to open it. “Who is it, dear?” Mawumi asked from the dining sector. The cling of forks and spoons rang out as she prepared the dining table for lunch. The noise came from the cutlery of stainless steel that she was picking out from some tray she was carrying and placing on the table. “Some lunch time visitor.” I said, smiling at Dad, who was standing in the door way. “It looks like we have a hungry visitor coming to share our meagre food ration for the day.” “It is simply some hungry fellow who knows that you prepare good food and has come to sample a bit of it,” Dad added. “Your husband may be a good man, but it is not fair for him to continue enjoying all the good food alone.” “Oh it is you, Dad,” Mawumi shouted back. “Come on in. Your place at the table head is always guaranteed.” Dad came in smiling. “Just on time,” he said. “While driving across, I was afraid that I might arrive a bit late, just to find out that Akoni had already wolfed down everything.” Dad moved straight to the table and sat down, admiring Mawumi as she went to the kitchen and brought out the food. “That is really a pretty lady,” he said. “I did not know you would be capable of making such a good choice. I had almost thought seriously of choosing a woman for you.” “Dad,” I said. “Don’t admire my wife that much or your own wife might get jealous and angry, and if a fight starts between you two, I will certainly support my mum.” T 84 “Your mother appreciates Mawumi’s beauty too,” Dad said, “and she has taste and flair for good things. When your mother says something is nice, the statement cannot be challenged.” He turned to the dish that had just been placed in front of him. “Chicken,” he said, “and well prepared by a master.” “A master?” I asked. “Mawumi is a woman.” “Mistress would not go,” Dad said. “These are the problems foreigners face with the English language where the masculine dominates. Yet they claim to have equality among the sexes.” Dad picked up the serving spoon and began to serve himself. He took all his time without considering the fact that I might have been famished and longing to dig into my food. “I hope this husband of yours did not go for the gizzard while you were still cooking,” Dad said. “To us old African men, the gizzard alone is the whole chicken.” “It is right there, Dad,” Mawumi said. “You are free to have your gizzard and leave our chicken to us,” I said to him. “You don’t mean what you are saying,” Dad said. “I mean everything I am saying,” I replied, smiling. I turned to Mawumi. “Please, help Dad locate his gizzard,” I said. “But make sure he gets nothing else. Reserve the rest of the chicken for us.” Dad pushed Mawumi’s hand away as she attempted to serve him, selected some juicy chunks for himself, and put them on his plate alongside the gizzard.” We all laughed, served ourselves, and went ahead to eat. 85 “I did not only come for this lunch,” Dad said after several mouthfuls. He always enjoyed Mawumi’s cooking. “Then why are you imposing yourself on our meagre resources?” “Mawumi is a wonderful cook and I would not miss her food any time I have the chance.” “What brought you here then?” I asked. “And without my gentle mother at that.” Dad loaded chicken into his mouth and smiled happily. “I want to remarry,” he said simply. I almost choked on the food I was trying to swallow at that critical moment. I thought I had not heard correctly, but Dad went ahead to repeat what he had just said. “Yes,” he said. “I wish to remarry.” “Remarry?” I asked. “What has Mum done wrong?” “You cannot be seriously considering the possibility of marrying another woman,” Mawumi said. “I am remarrying your mum you block head,” he said to me. “Who else would I be getting married to?” He possibly realized that Mawumi, too, had been led to think that he had been talking about marrying another woman. “I am sorry, Mawumi,” he said, “but it is...