Mother Knows Best (or Not)

Mama Chinedu’s worried frown was a permanent fixture these days, etched deeper with every passing month that Chinedu stubbornly clung to his Nokia 3310. It sat on the small, chipped side table in her living room, a relic from a bygone era, glowing with its familiar, almost defiant, green backlight. Chinedu, her firstborn, her pride, her… influencer, was currently hunched over it, his thumb navigating the ancient T9 keypad with the dexterity of a seasoned musician.

“Chinedu, my son,” Mama Chinedu began, her voice a gentle tremor of concern, as she entered the room, a steaming mug of Milo in her hands. “Have you seen the news today?”

Chinedu grunted, not looking up. “Which news, Mama? The one about the new yams in the market, or the one about Aunty Ngozi’s daughter finally getting engaged?”