There was a small house in Lagos where the paint on the walls had faded, but the kitchen was always bright.?
Mama Nkechi was the one who kept that light on. Every evening by 7pm, no matter how tired she was from the market, she would call everyone.?
"Papa, come. Tobi, drop that phone. Amara, come and help me."..
.
Papa would come in slow, his slippers making that familiar _kpa-kpa_ sound. He didn't talk much, but he always sat at the head of the small table, and that alone made everyone feel safe.