It has been a year now since I have seen my little sister, after Ifeoluwa gained admission to study Fisheries in the University of Ilorin, she has refused to come home during the holiday, although are reasons were valid, but it went against the family tradition, which was
"You must always come home after each school break."
It's like an unwritten family rule because that is how we have always been, but my sister, the one who refuses to come back home, said she was learning a trade, and it would be bad if she left her learning unattended.
Before the lockdown was initiated in my country, my parents and siblings had been calling her to return, but she kept giving one excuse or another. Then they asked me to call her since she listens to me more than anyone else in the house.
I dialed her line that evening while sitting in the corridor. The air was thick and quiet. I could hear her pick on the third ring.
“Hello, Ife,” I said.
“Boda mi,” she replied cheerfully.
“Why haven’t you come home?” I asked not sounding angry but worried.
“I just don’t want to” she said after a small pause.
“What do you mean you don't want to come home? Your school is not on seccession so why?” I asked again.
“I don’t know... I just want to be here, I have nothing to do at home.” she replied.
“Ife come home. Please, don't let me call again on this matter.” But this time, I wasn't sounding all sweet and concerned again, I was giving her an instruction.
She went quiet for a while and then said, “Okay. I’ll come soon. Like next week soon.” Then the call ended.
A week passed but she didn’t come home.
I refuse to call her because she already gave her word and all I was doing was waiting for her until it was announced all over the country that there would be a national lockdown. There would be no movement or interstate traveling.
This time, we knew we couldn't do anything about her coming home because the new and most valid excuse was the national lockdown. I wouldn't even want her to come because I don't know if the roads are safe, also didn't want her to get the virus.
A month became two months and two months became three, and it continued like that.
She was the only one in the family who wasn't at home us, even my cousin who stays with us went back to their parent when the virus was announced. Every time we seat to eat together, it always felt like someone was missing. My parents tried to hide it, but I could see it in their eyes that they weren't happy, the way my mum sighed sometimes when she served food. They didn’t say much about it anymore sometimes they would call her, sometimes they would just wait until she called. But it wasn’t like before, it was like she abandon the family and they want to abadon her too.
As for me, I didn’t help the matter. I was angry at her. I felt like she broke her word, and I didn’t want to act like it didn’t mean anything. So I stopped calling. I didn’t even pick her calls again. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. Then, one day, a month before the lockdown was lifted, I was out with a few friends, when I saw her call. The phone screen lit up with her name, but I didn’t pick.
Then a message came in:
“Please, even if it’s once, pick my call.”
I stared at the message for a while. I didn’t know what to feel. Then the phone rang again, and this time I picked.
Before I could even say anything, I heard her crying on the phone. That moment broke something in me. My cute little sister... crying. The girl who used to follow me around the house, who would bring my food to my room and wouldn't eat unless I eat with her.
It was then I realized I wasn't really angry at her I just missed her. And the sound of her voice, seeking to talk to me, made me feel very bad because I had ignore her all this time.
We spoke for a long time. She told me she had missed home too. That she didn’t plan to stay away for that long. That things just kept piling up and before she knew it, time was gone.
When I got home that night, I made sure everyone called her even though they had been calling before, it wasn't like they used to. I made sure that changed.
Then finally, the lockdown was lifted.
After a few days, she came home.
I can’t even explain how happy everyone was to see my her again. The moment when she walked into the house it was like joy itself came into the house. I could see the joy on her face too, I know she was sad with what I did to her but yet, she was still smiling at me, still the same little sister I would fight the world for.
Image is mine.
I can never forget that day, that kind of joy is something I can never forget because we all love each other so much.
The End.
Thanks for reading. My name is Fashtioluwa
