Mother-in-Law Palava
Chapter 11 – The Neighbourhood Showdown
The morning after Mama Dorcas' latest "spiritual session," the house felt like it was under siege — and no, it wasn't just the weird chalk lines everywhere. The tension was thick enough to cut with a butter knife.
Femi and I had barely finished breakfast when the first knock came. Loud. Repetitive. Almost like a warning.
I opened the door to find the neighbour from hell, Mr. Omotayo, standing on the other side. His face looked like he'd been chewing on a lemon, and he wasn't here for pleasantries.
"Temi," he greeted me curtly, "I've told you about that noise, right?"
"Noise?" I blinked, trying to play dumb.
"Yes! That noise! You can't keep having your mother-in-law doing her… whatever it is she's doing, at all hours of the night. It's disturbing the peace of the entire compound!" he hissed. "We have children here, for heaven's sake."
I looked behind him to see Mrs. Omotayo standing in the doorway, nodding in agreement, clutching her baby like a shield. If this were a movie, she'd have been the one dramatically shaking her head in the background, adding to the drama.
"Mr. Omotayo," I said, trying to stay calm, "you're a father, right? You should understand that… spiritual things happen at spiritual hours."
He gave me the look of a man who was about to give up on humanity. "Spiritual hours?" he repeated, his eyebrows practically shooting into his hairline. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying that your mother-in-law is doing spiritual rituals with chalk and disturbing everyone's sleep?"
Before I could answer, a loud voice cut through the air.
"Aha! I knew it! I knew there was something weird going on here!" Aunty Sade, with her usual flair for drama, strutted into the scene like she was auditioning for a role in a blockbuster movie. She had on one of her usual loud, bright dresses — the kind that made her look like a walking traffic cone — and a pair of sunglasses that didn't match the time of day.
"Ah! Mr. Omotayo, what's all this now?" Aunty Sade started, her voice high-pitched and dripping with mock sweetness. "If you're here to complain about our 'spiritual activities,' I suggest you take your business elsewhere. Or better yet, come and join us! We could always use more hands in the work of the Lord!"
I could see Mr. Omotayo's frustration rising, but Aunty Sade wasn't having it. She stepped closer, lowered her sunglasses dramatically, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Mr. Omotayo. I'm sure your children will sleep better knowing that we are fighting spiritual battles on their behalf."
At this point, I could only stand there, frozen in confusion, watching the show unfold. I glanced back at Mama Dorcas, who had come to join us. She stood behind Aunty Sade, her arms crossed, her usual calm demeanor not betraying any sign of guilt.
"You see, Temi," Aunty Sade continued, as though speaking to an audience, "when a family is under attack, it's only right to fight back using the weapons of the spirit. And sometimes that means drawing arrows on the floor and claiming back what's ours."
Mr. Omotayo took a deep breath, his face red with the effort of staying civil. "I don't care if you're fighting demons or doing witchcraft—this is a quiet neighbourhood! My wife is right, we've had enough of this nonsense."
That's when I saw it. Behind Mama Dorcas and Aunty Sade, the neighbour's little boy, Timmy, had quietly slipped out from behind the door, holding up his phone, recording everything.
I wanted to die.
Just then, Femi emerged from the house, rubbing his eyes like he was just waking up. "What's going on here?"
"Femi!" I almost shouted, relieved to see him. "You're just in time. Aunty Sade is about to bless Mr. Omotayo with some spiritual wisdom!"
He shot me a confused look before turning to Aunty Sade. "What's going on now?"
Before anyone could respond, Aunty Sade took it up a notch, holding her hand up like she was about to conduct an orchestra. "You see, Femi, it's simple. We're fighting for this home, for our peace. The spirits are restless, and we must be more diligent. So if Mr. Omotayo and his people can't handle the sounds of divine intervention, they can always go inside and close their ears. Let the righteous do their work!"
The absurdity of it all hit me like a ton of bricks, and I couldn't stop myself from bursting out laughing. "So now we're just making noise for the sake of noise?" I asked, trying to catch my breath between giggles.
Aunty Sade glared at me. "Don't mock the spirit, my dear. It is serious business!"
Just then, Mr. Omotayo turned around, his face as red as a tomato. "This is too much!" he shouted, stomping his foot. "I will be reporting this to the landlord!"
With that, he stormed off, his wife following closely behind, shaking her head. The little boy stayed behind for a moment, still recording everything.
Aunty Sade, unfazed, turned to Mama Dorcas. "You see? Some people just don't understand spiritual warfare. Maybe the next time he comes over, I'll give him a little prayer session. That'll shut him up."
Mama Dorcas nodded sagely. "Good idea. We'll invite them to join us."
I couldn't take it anymore. "Well, when you're done praying, just remember—there's a real war going on outside with the landlord. And he doesn't care about any chalk."
Mama Dorcas smiled serenely. "Don't worry, Temi. The spirits are in charge."
As the door slammed behind the Omotayos, I stood there, shaking my head, wondering just how much more absurd this could get.
Little did I know, the war was just beginning.
To be continued...
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