Overcoming The Fear

It was about a year after mother’s death that Ebere and I were able to go into her room. Before then I feared that if I went there, I would remember the good times we had there and so miss her so much. I could not bear the memories. Ebere said she felt the same way too. Mother’s room was a welcome haven. We found peace in that room. We found happiness and shelter in that room. Even up to the age of fifteen, I often joined Ebere in her room where she would sing songs to us and tell us stories until we fell asleep. Her voice was heavenly. When we brought our problems to her, she always seemed to have the perfect words for us that will encourage us and calm us. She made us open and truthful amongst ourselves and her room was where we always discussed with her our secrets. After her death, we never wanted to enter her room again. As I remembered some of the great things about her, I confessed, “One of God’s wonderful gifts to mankind is mothers.”

On that fateful day I called on Ebere whom I guess was reading a novel she had read so many times.
“Yes, Chimaobi,” she responded from her bedroom.
She always called my name when she was responding to my calls. I walked into her room and confirmed my guess. She was probably dying of boredom like me.
“Please join me to clean mommy’s room,” I told her.
She dropped the book and searched my face for a while. I guess when she saw the serious look on my face, she knew I was not joking.
“Chimaobi, are you sure you want to do this?” she asked. She was two years younger than me but she seemed to be very cautious and calculated, like mother.
“Yes. The place would be in a mess and you know mommy likes her room to be sparkling clean,” I reminded her.
She nodded slowly. Mother always wanted everything around her to be clean that she took the pains to clean her room herself. No other person had ever cleaned her bedroom.
“If my only brother wants me to do so, then why not?” Ebere thought out loud as she stood up from her bed.
It was one of those statements she made when she initially wanted to refuse what I asked of her but had to be motivated by reminding herself that I was her only sibling. I watched as she brought out a pair of shorts and a vest in preparation for the task ahead. “That means we need broom, mop, water, rags and detergent,” she continued thinking out loud.
“I’d go and get them,” I volunteered. “Please meet me in mom's room when you are done.”