The only way to gauge my mother’s health is through her attendance at morning Mass. Any day she is unable to go, it means that “e get as e be.” Sometimes, my wife quietly admits that my mother’s devotion to morning Mass challenges her, as her own attendance remains sporadic.
This morning, as my mother returned from Mass – having likely spent some time at the grotto afterward – she told my wife that John Bosco Onunkwo’s mother was at the gate and wanted to see her briefly. As my wife stepped out, she whispered to me that it was an April Fool’s prank.
By the time she returned, I was the one who broke the fool’s news to her. She stood momentarily, as if trying to recall irrecallable pranks from the past. Then, without hesitation, she turned towards my mother, calling out, “Nwuye Onyenkuzi!” – for that is what she fondly calls her.
As I write, they are still together, lost in animated narration. Trust my mother – like all those above eighty who remain in full amplitude of their reasoning – her narrative is always clear, her controversies ingeniously crafted like the fool’s prank, her logic ancient yet forceful, and her rhetoric as sublime as ever.
For the sake of “peace”, my wife understands that it is risky for a wife to win an argument against the mother. I even overheard my mother telling her that what she did to her was nothing compared to the prank she played on Fr. Maximus Okonkwo, who celebrated the Mass.
When I asked my wife who won the argument, she replied, “An elderly woman with two sons as lawyers will always win any argument.”
She reminds me of an ancient king who always had his way. When asked about his secret, he said, “Any leader with many legions behind him must win every argument.”