SWEET BETRAYAL

December 1988

Nneka, my sister, and I flew in from Germany to join our parents to celebrate the Christmas holiday. Two days before Nneka told me that Chris, our oldest brother, had arrived from the United States to join us for the Christmas.

I was unusually thrilled about meeting my older brother, as I''d always looked up to him. The last time Chris and I saw each other, I was only twelve years old, and soon after my mother moved me and my sister to Germany. My parents had only three children: Chris, the oldest, is ten years older than myself. Nneka, the second child, is two years older than myself. I am the last child, and this year I have completed my fifteen years on this planet and looking forward to be sixteen in the next three months.

We arrived at the Lagos Muritala Muhamed International Airport at approximately 2:20 p.m. Nigerian time. Nneka and I joined the concourse line in the arrival hall. Nervously, I scanned the front gate and spotted mother with our private chauffeur. They started with apprehension. "Entshul'' digen sie bitte" ("Excuse me, please"), I said to the travelers in German as I forced my way through, pulling my sister along with me. Several of the travelers ignored my plea while others gave me the evil eye, as my sister and I squeezed past them with our hand bags. "Aber die leute verstehen kein Deutsch" ("But the people don''t understand German,") blurted my sister as she followed sheepishly behind.

After roughly four hour on the plane, here the heat was so intense that everyone seemed to be suffocating. Coupled with the Lagos climate of our 98 degrees, the airport AC system didn''t seem to be providing much relief to the overcrowded lounge. "Welcome home!" whispered mother with outstretched arms, as I fell into her loving embrace. We all walked together, and other travelers took notice of my mother. My mother loves to dress to impress, letting it be known that she''s the queen. My father has ruled our small town of about 10,000 people, and with our cultural belief system of our Igbo tribe, the husband is the chief purveyor of the family, while the wife sits at home and overindulges herself with her husband''s provisions. Thus, my father has lavished us with all the finest things of the world. My mother never had to labor; all she does is cruise around the world, shopping for the finest products money can buy.

As we traipsed through the airport lobby, eyes centered on us. My mother loved the attention and returned a receptive nod to several of the concierge behind the counter. She was dressed in a black silk floral-embroidered dress, a black tulle ruffled cape with flower accents which revealed her 18-karat white-gold necklace with diamonds and black sapphire heart pendant which matched her onyx and diamond earrings. She looked like Miss Universe--almost magical--as if she''s a mermaid inside an aquarium.

"Chidi, dear, you''re grown so much. How was the flight?" asked my mother as we were outside the lobby.

"Boring...boring," my sister said making a wry face.

"Actually, I like the rush, mom. I want to learn how to fly a plane," I told my mother, skidding across the floor, pulling her hand to follow my pace.

"Well, my dear! You have to work harder in school and perhaps your father will buy you a jet after you''ve finished your education," she suggested. My mother never once opposes my wishes, no matter how immoderate they seemed, which made me love her so much. Even at age fifteen she still treats me like a newborn which, to my sister, is disconcerting.

"Mom, could you tell Saleu to allow me to drive the car back to the house?"

"No, not yet," mother disagreed. "When you reach eighteen, then you can drive any car you want," she added, giving me a dispirited grin.

We arrived at the parking lot and Tafa, one of the house butlers, was waiting by my father''s silver Rolls-Royce. He rushed to help the chauffeur with our luggage stacked on the trolley. We cruised down Airport Road. I sat in between my sister and my mother studying the chauffeur as he handled the wheel. I''d alwa