
The first time I heard Tony laugh during our first conversation, it caught my heart like a hook pulling me out of my loneliness.
I had just moved into the two–bedroom flat beside theirs, in a quiet neighborhood in the exquisite corner of Uyo, where the evenings smelled of quiet peace and the expensive perfume of returning neighbors. The apartment felt too large for one person. At one point, I began to regret having rented it. But on a second thought, I knew it would be useful on Christmas days when my siblings visit. But till then, I dealt with the silence that engulfed me most nights with old jazz songs.
Until that Saturday morning, it was the sound of a little boy blowing bubbles in the compound that broke my sleep routine.
I had just gone outside my apartment to see who was fighting the quietness of that early morning when I saw Tony sitting on the low step outside his mother’s door. In his hands was a cup of soapy water and a wand. From time to time, he would dip the tiny wand into the plastic cup of soapy water, blow it into the air, and then proceed to chase it around. He was a young man of about seven years, slim, but with eyes that sparked curiosity and mischief. He ran after every bubble like it carried a secret.
It wasn't long before one drifted toward my direction. He stood up and shouted, “Uncle, catch it!”
Spontaneously, I tried. I missed. He laughed again.
That was how our friendship started, accidentally but soft in every way.
Gradually, every afternoon after school, he would appear at my door with one simple question.
“Uncle Dayo, can I play PS5 with you?”
I squinted my eyes in surprise. "Who told you I have a PS5?"
"Every young uncle has a PS5." He replied with so much assurance.
I stood there looking at him for a moment before asking. "Are you done with your homework?"
He nodded.
"Do your parents know you're here?" I continued. Since the kid was lovable. I didn't want to be accused of misleading him in the neighborhood.
"Just my mummy. My daddy died in a crash a few days after I was born." He said without an ounce of emotion.
Immediately, I felt pity for him and moved aside. "Let's play."
He would settle on my rug while we played games and on days there was no light, he would watch me write, cook, maybe we'll talk about school. On the hot days, we'll stand outside and watch the lizards fighting behind the wall. Gradually, I began falling in love with his favorite cartoon.
He never talked much about his mother but from the little he told me, I got to know that his mother, Adaora, worked long hours at a hospital in town. Most days, she came home tired, greeting me with only a polite smile or a wave before unlocking her door.
For a while, we existed like that. I didn't bother to push for a friendship between us just because I became an unpaid nanny for her son. I loved Tony's company even though he was a kid. He sounded smart. So I didn't bother about his quiet mum.
Not until one late Thursday evening, just as I returned from grocery shopping, did Tony run toward me.
“Uncle Dayo! Mummy said you should come for dinner tonight.”
“Dinner?” I blinked. “Your mummy invited me?” I was surprised to know how reserved the mum was.
He nodded too quickly. “Seven o’clock. Don’t be late. She cooked stew.” Then he turned and ran back inside their apartment.
It sounded odd, considering how his mother just smiled and waved at me all the time. In fact, we had never conversed at all as neighbors. But on a second thought, I convinced myself maybe she wanted to thank me for watching her son after school.
So at exactly seven, I dressed neatly and walked over with a small bottle of juice.
When I knocked, there was a long pause. Then, the door opened, and on the other side was Adaora, Tony's mum. She wrapped a wrapper round her chest, a very weird dress for someone who has invited a guest to dinner. On her face was a puzzled expression.
“Good evening,” she said, looking at me, then at the bottle in my hand. “Is everything alright?”
I was stunned at that question plus her dress. “You… You did invite me for dinner?” I said.
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “I did?”
Before either of us could say more, Tony appeared behind her, grinning boldly.
“Mummy, he’s here!”
I watched gently as the drama unfolded before me. Adaora gave Tony the kind of look only mothers can give. That sharp, quiet, promising judgment later. I recognized the look because my mum had done that to me on several occasions.
I smile, already figuring out what was going on. I felt stupid. "Must be a mistake. I'll just go." I said turning to leave.
"No, no. Please." Then she stepped aside with a tired smile. "Since you’re already here, you might as well come in,” she said, forcing a smile.
Reluctantly, I stepped into this warm and small room, the kind that carried the smell of family, detergent, stew, and a hint of baby powder.
Tony dragged me to an already set table. Without hesitation, he pushed a fork towards me and a plate already filled with rice and stew. Like an unwanted guest, I pulled out a seat and sat down.
While seated, I proceeded to ask a question that had been on my mind ever since I stepped in. “So, you never invited me to dinner?" I asked Adaora.
She glanced at me. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I was just surprised to see you at the door."
Tony coughed and tried to sneak out of the table. But he was called back by his mother. “Tony, do you mind explaining what exactly is going on?”
The boy fidgeted with the edge of the tablecloth. Realizing he has been caught. He sighed weakly. “I just… I just wanted us all to eat together.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not what you told me twenty minutes ago.”
He looked at his feet. “I said you invited him. But I only said it so he would come. You people never talk. And I wanted you to talk.”
She covered her face with her hand. I dropped my fork and leaned back on my chair. Gently, I bit my lip to hide a smile.
“Tony,” she said gently, “you don't lie to people to bring them to dinner in my house with lies.”
“I’m sorry, Mummy. I just wanted you to meet Uncle Dayo.”
The silence that followed was soft, not awkward. A small truth had entered the room, and we all felt it.
Adaora exhaled slowly, then turned to me. “I am so sorry. Please, forgive him. Must have been a long week for him.”
I shook my head like it didn't matter. “Nothing to forgive. Kids can be mischievous at times.”
Still not reading the room. Tony asked. “So… can we still eat?”
I looked from him to his mother. Who returned my stare and laughed. A tired but honest one that made something warm settle in my chest from that moment
"Yes, we can." She said,
We ate together, the three of us, passing plates and stories. Adaora spoke more than I had ever heard her speak. I kept stealing glances at her with surprise. For someone who only smiles at me, she sure has a lot to say.
She spoke most of the time. Talking about her job and how demanding it was. About her son’s endless energy, her worries about doing it alone. And with the little time she gave me. I told her about my move to the new neighborhood after I got a new job. I told her I was basically trying to start over my life.
While at it, I choked on my food and reached for the jug at the same time with Adaora, who was trying to help. Our hands brushed and we both looked away, shy but not uncomfortable.
It wasn't long before Tony excused himself with suspicious innocence. “You adults can continue. I'm going to complete my assignment."
"But I thought you told me, Uncle Dayo had already helped you with it," Adaora asked.
"Yeah." I concurred. "I thought we did it all in the afternoon."
But Tony was already in his room.
Adaora shook her head and smiled. She looked at me. “He planned everything.”
“I'm not sure, but what a way to matchmake,” I murmured, pointing to her and myself.
She laughed, softer this time.
Silence engulfed us.
Then she spoke. “Truth is… I’ve never really thanked you for helping me with him. He tells me all about it. I'm sorry, life keeps rushing me.”
I smiled. “He is a good kid,” I said.
We talked more that night about a lot of things. And finally, when it was time for me to leave, Tony ran out again and hugged my leg. “Uncle Dayo, will you come back another time?”
Adaora shot him a warning look but that didn't stop him.
I ruffled his hair with my eyes glued to Adaora, who was avoiding my gaze. “Only if your mummy doesn’t mind.”
She finally looked at me and swallowed hard. Then, with hesitation, she nodded.
“I don’t mind.”
I bade them goodnight and stepped into the night. I wasn't far gone before I heard Adaora scolding Tony in a low tone. I could also hear the excitement she was trying to hide in her voice.
On the other hand, for a guy who hides behind his doors, I thought the dinner wasn't a bad idea. It was time I made friends. Not just Tony but someone my age.
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It also made me think about how sometimes, it takes a small gesture to start a really meaningful friendship with someone older or even an adult neighbor.