As mom drives us out of Brian's house, I stare at Akunna's house.

I wonder what is happening there now? Maybe Akunna and his mom no longer talk with one another.

My mom breaks my line of thought with one statement.

"The landlords for our apartment and my shop threatened to throw our things out." The tone in her voice is tense, but she still manages to hold the steering wheel steadily as she tells me.

"What? I did not know." I rub my face in dismay.

"It is not something I should bother you about, but maybe your father is right. He should not send you abroad to settle yourself. We can continue to live like this."

Mom, you know I don't want that. I tell myself.

"I tell him to buy a house, but he will not hear. I tell him to beg his boss for a promotion, but he is too proud. What kind of ridiculous proudness is that?" I expect her to let go of the steering wheel, but she doesn't.

None of their fights should be my business.

I would do anything not to go another night in that apartment, with fluctuating electricity, having to lock our doors every time in fear of robbers, and no certainty of if we would get thrown out of the house.

It would be nice to see a country with the opposite. A safe place with more job opportunities so that my mom's problems would reduce by half.

...

My parents spend the night discussing what they should have spoken about in the afternoon.

"What do you mean by 'I will be paying for the foodstuff now?' After shutting down my shop, that's all you can say?" Mom does not stop there.

"Look at your daughter and son, Osas. He has been studying non-stop for almost two years at the university. Now he is returning to us with no degree because of a strike? Do you want your children to suffer the same limitation as their parents?"

I am on my bed and cannot do anything but listen.

"That is your problem. As far as I know, this strike nonsense will not last. It has happened before; it will end soon enough. Joy?" My dad calls at my room door.

I leave the bed and walk to the door.

"Yes?"

I can imagine Faith and her siblings eating popcorn while listening to them argue.

"Do not be crazy about abroad like your mom. There is nothing there that isn't here. Many people are suffering there as well."

"Okay, dad."

"Please do not feel bad when we do not pay the tuition deposit."

"What?" My mother beats me to it.

"You will decline that admission offer tomorrow to end this charade." He glares at my mom before retreating to his bedroom.

"Mom, he cannot be serious."

"Go to sleep Joy. I will make sure that does not happen." She rubs my shoulder, and I retreat to bed.

The next day, I wear my church shoes while listening to my parents' clashing voices that echo from the corridor to the living room.

"Can you see how bad things are now? Osas will stop schooling just because of the ASUU strike,"

"Why are you like this? This strike covers every public university in Nigeria, so they are all closing,"

"Chai." I sigh when they appear in front of me.

"I will see you later, Joy."

"Have a good day too, dad." Mom and I walk down the stairs to leave for service.

"Mom, when Osas returns home, will we have to share the same bed again?" I ask her as we are near the car.

"This should show your dad that it is time for us to leave this country. People dey Jakpa, why can't we do the same?"

"You are right," I admit. "Dad is not even happy here."

Mom stops in her tracks. "Do not gossip about your father like that. I am his wife, so what you should do is listen."

"Really? Okay then."

I say, but in my mind, I hiss loudly.

It starts to drizzle minutes after mom parks at her usual spot in the church. We get under the main church's roof before getting wet. The second service is running late on schedule, so we discuss simple matters while outside.

That is when someone starts approaching both of us.

"Joy, is that you?"

"Aunty Bisi!" I leave my mom's side to hug the woman.

Many Nigerians use the terms "aunty" and "uncle" for people they have strong connections with but are not blood relatives. Mrs. Bisi is one of them.

"Joy, I have not seen you this since August." She draws me back and scans my body. "You look so – tired. Did you lose weight?"

"You are right. Maybe something is troubling Joy." My mom joins the conversation. "How have you been, Bisi?"

Aunty Bisi usually attends service in the same church as us. She tells us she is in Nigeria to see her husband.

"I also came to see an Apostle here in Nigeria. I think you know of him, Joy. I have been sending your mom his online videos."

Mom and I share a smile. Nodding my head, I whisper into mom's ear.

"All these rich people without anything to do with their money. Travelling from abroad just to come and see an Apostle," I watch her scroll through her phone.

"Joy, shut up."

"Here is one of his videos." She shoves the phone at my face, and I see a man in black holding a microphone. I look at my mom instead.

"It is a new church. It started in another state in Nigeria, but the Apostle has started preaching here in Abuja since 2021."

"Okay," Mom and I respond at the same time.

Aunty Bisi continues. "The church has made me grow so much; I do not think I would be back to reconcile with my husband if not for God's Word. The service happens in the evening, and I hope you can come one day."

Mom and I barely arrive early for morning service, so why would she think we would come for one in the evening? Thinking about it, I would not lose anything by not going to church services.

My dad does not, so why should I?

But then, there is my mom.

Still, I smile at her so as not to be rude.

After we wave her goodbye, mom and I face each other.

"So, what have you suddenly emaciated?"

"The form for the mock version of the JAMB exam is out."

"Wow, I do not know if to encourage you or tell the truth. But let me do both," I listen.

"JAMB is only once a year, not like NECO or WAEC. If you do not pass JAMB, your dad will fight you because that is needed for you to study in a Nigerian post-institution. But if you fail WAEC, I will be on your neck because after giving us nonsense results for the past years, it would be an embarrassment both to your parents and yourself."

I know a parent's threat could be to change their child's behaviour for good, but this is not going anywhere. I already know I failed mock exams even without finishing all the papers. Yet, I will not conclude that these external exams will be another banger. C grades are what I am expecting.

Please vote, comment, and share. I would really appreciate constructive criticism. Thanks for reading.