"Dayo!"

Iya Egba's voice was known for it loudness whenever she called on someone, especially her only surviving son, or quarreled with her neighbors.

"Don't blame her for nagging, she is just indirectly nagging at life for being unfair to her. Maturity is when you understand everyone in their own perspectives." Baba Gbenga always supported Iya Egba whenever there was a heated quarrel between she and anyone in the neighborhood.

"Is she the only one that life has dealt severely with? Baba, please leave that thing. She is beginning to take advantage of it. Should we all run away from her because she lost her husband and her remaining children the same day? Why doesn't she also see things from our own perspective, or isn't she mature enough?"

"Ah! Iya Sukura, mind what you say to people in her condition before the same misfortune befalls you o."

Iya Egba stood in front of the old dirty she rented four years ago, two years after she lost her family to the biggest fire disaster in Alagba community.
Every part of her body that could be seen told Dayo that he was in for another round of whip that morning.

"Won't you go hawking this morning? Or you want to compare yourself to those who still their fathers?" The bitterness in her spoke out immediately Dayo jumped the gutter created by the bathing water from the soak-away of their compound.

Dayo cried out from their one room apartment with a transparent plastic bucket of akamu on his head. He brisked up his pace when he noticed the door to their room apartment open as he plodded.

Iya Egba scolded him as she walked towards the entrance of the house. "Dayo!