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Grandma visit to New York on a holiday basis nearly spelt doom for us

After all set and done grandma finally came to New York to spend the holiday with us.

Before she came, I know how I begged her. She will always say “nwa m, agahim abia ndi ocha ejiri m gwo ogwu ego” (my son, I won’t come before the white man use me for money ritual).

I tried as much as possible to make her understand that New York is not like the way she thinks.

Finally, grandma is here with us in the New York city.

On her arrival, Nancy, my wife and also a white woman welcomed her and she said “Nwa m, onye ocha nkea nasukwanu niminimi wu onye?” (My son, who is this white woman that speaks through the nose).

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I couldn’t hold the laughter. I simply told her that she was my wife. I formally introduced Nancy to my grandmother.

“Yawu, I lechara nwayi gi ga alu yawuru nwayi ocha n’wehi onu ahu?” (So you decided to marry a white woman who is skinny?)

It was indeed an issue. I tried to convince my wife that that is our way of discussion when ever we meet our loved ones.

I tried as much as possible to ensure my wife don’t understand the argument between I and my grandmother.

Time for Dinner

It was dinner time and the love of my life has already prepared a well garnished meal for the entire family.

When my grandmother opened the plate of food, she shouted.

Her shout scared me. I thought she saw something never related to food.

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My grandmother shouted because Nancy prepared something she doesn’t eat from home.

“Old otu ngi na nwuye gi jiziri choro igbu m ne behi eme?” (Why have you and your wife chosen to kill me before my time?)

“Aghotahi m” (I don’t understand) I responded.

She continued “ole otu ngi na nwuye gi jiri kpebie iye m eriri afo okuko si m rie?” (Why did you and your wife prepare a chicken intestine for me to eat?)

My goodness, it was indeed a very big trouble.

My wife prepared noodles and my grandmother is saying that it they are chicken intestines.

I told my wife that grandma doesn’t eat noodles that’s why she panicked.

Read: day of the gods and the Hunter Prince (episode 2)

Nancy apologise and my grandmother was like “m gba gi aka nti” (if I slap you…)

I quickly went to calm her down and promised to get whatever she requested for.

Do you know that my grandmother requested for fufu (an African food made from cassava) as dinner that night.

That evening, I visited all African shops in New York and finally I got the fufu and soup from one of our Igbo sisters who run an African delicacy shop here in New York.

The only way peace reigned that evening was that grandma was able to eat the exact food she demanded.

At the barbers saloon

The next morning, grandma told me that she wishes to cut her hair.

Why she didn’t do it in Nigeria before coming to the United States is what I cannot comprehend.

I promised to take her to a place where she could cut her hair after I was done with what I was doing.

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I came up with the suggestion of making the hair but grandma was quick to rebuke me.

She asked me if the hair she wanted to cut was mine.

I couldn’t talk again. I drove her to Gyan’s shop.

Gyan is a Brazilian who has lived in New York City for more than 6 years.

He is my personal hair cutter that was why I took my grandmother to him.

Few minutes after cutting her hair (which of course was followed by a very serious argument), the old woman asked Gyan to gather all her hair and give it to her.

Satan just wore shoes now!

My grandmother was mean and refused to go anywhere until her entire hair was gathered and given to her.

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How do we start to do that? Her hair of course must have mixed up with other people’s hair.

What will she even do with the hair if it was given back to her.

Well she has earlier complained of the white man using her for money ritual and according to her, this might be their opportunity.

So, because she doesn’t trust the white men, she ensured her hair was packed in a nylon and given to her.

The embarrassment was really much but I can’t do anything about it because the old woman in question is my father’s mother and my grandmother too.

Though I really enjoyed being with her even with her numerous problems.

For one month she was with us in the US, Nancy was able to learn some certain words in our Igbo language.

She became a close ally to grandma leaving me her husband.

When grandma left for home, Nancy really felt it and me too.

It was really a great one month holiday with grandma in New York.

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One month holiday in New York with Grandma