'I can't believe you haven't packed anything, you this child, ìwo omo yì,' Eniiyi's mother chided, giving her subject of accusal a once over.

The girl was still in her dressing gown over pajamas.

'The grass will grow under our feet before we leave the house if you continue like this,' she further added, pulling open the door to the girl's walk-in closet.

'Or the tiles, in this context. And I don't care,' Eniiyi said.

Eartha turned to glare at the nine-year-old. 'Next thing, you'll go and carry cane to beat me.'

'No, o!' Eniiyi quickly corrected herself. 'I was just trying to . . .'

'To what?'

Eniiyi shrugged. 'I was funnin' with you.'

'Who's funnin' with whom?' Daddy appeared in the doorway. A bath towel was draped round his waist and he had a red toothbrush in one hand and his phone glued to his ear with the other.

Mom raised an eyebrow and went into the closet.

'I've been calling Mother's phone for a while now and it's not going through,' he said.

'Tell your daughter to get set quickly and stop messing with my plans or she's going to be left behind.' Mommy's voice floated out of the closet.

Her dad looked at her properly and sighed, lowering the hand holding the phone. 'Baby girl, go and take your bath now,' he cajoled. 'Your Mom's also got stuff to prepare for the journey.' He yawned and looked towards the closet.

'Helping her pack.' Came the voice from inside the closet.

Daddy shrugged and looked at Eniiyi again. 'So?'

'Okay, I'm going,' said the girl, resignedly. It was no use trying to delay them, if the end of the world came today, her parents would still go to Japan.

She started to go but was stopped by her mother coming into view. Her arms were laden with clothes which she dumped on the bed, to be later folded into bags.

'And have you greeted Daddy this morning?'

'Good morning, sir,' she said and made a curtsey.

'Morning, Adekunbi,' Daddy said, smiling. 'Now I must go take my bath and you should yours, too.'

'Yes, whatever,' Eniiyi said.

Eartha shook her head. 'If only she listens to me like that, my life would be much easier.'

'It's father-daughter bond, Raspberry Ripple,' her husband said endearingly and left the room.

Eniiyi blocked out their voices and made for the bathroom.

05:19 am.

They had just finished eating and Mommy was dragging her travel bag down the last few steps of the porch to the car they were taking. Eniiyi was standing beside the open boot.

'Have you brought your stuff down?' Eartha asked on sighting her.

'No,' she said non-chalantly. 'They're pretty heavy, Daddy promised to bring them for me.'

'You'd better go add what you think is useful to your load. I packed for you and you didn't even bother to check.' Mommy reprimanded.

'That's why you're my mommy,' Eniiyi said and made for inside the house anyway.

'What's that supposed to mean? Are you trying to tell me you can't think for yourself?'

'No, I didn't say that, ma,' Eniiyi called back.

On reaching her room, she noticed the travel bag and holdall on the bed. It was her favourite holdall, not because it was black — yes, black was her most liked colour — but because it could be dragged by the small tires beneath it, carried by the handle, or adjusted to a knapsack.

Basically everything she needed was inside. Trust Mommy, she thought, then added her red pair of Beats by Dr Dre headphones, digital camera (a gift from her Somali grandfather), charger, and, a powerbank, just in case.

She picked up her red tablet and went into the ensuite, meaning to wash her face when a notification came up from her blog. She read through and then started  to type back when her father's voice called out.

She quickly dropped the tablet on the vanity unit and ran out the room, knowing she'd be in trouble if Daddy knew what she'd been wasting time doing.

Ten minutes later they were driving out of the giant gates that said 'Welcome to Elixir Estate' and into the quiet expressway of Osogbo that would soon become busy in less than two hours.

                                                                           •••

Eniiyi had been reduced to a sulk.  They had been on a quiet highway for a long time now. In the ensuing silence for over one and a half hours she'd had time to reflect on her misfortune and felt renewed feelings about it. She could have passed the time listening to music on her tablet or something but Daddy had put her travel bag in the boot.

Or had she put it in the holdall, she asked herself and glanced at the holdall beside her. Suddenly she wasn't sure where she'd put it. She surely remembered putting the other gadgets in the travel bag, because it had inner compartment to house delicate objects. So why had she not put her tablet there? 

She pulled the bag towards her and zipped it open. Seeing nothing but clothes, she frowned, a scary thought entered her head. She rummaged through the clothes and then she remembered a few hours ago when she'd dashed out the bathroom. She blanched.

'Mommy!'

Eartha slammed on the brakes, jolting everyone forward. 'Good Lord! What is the matter?!'

Both her parents were now staring at her.

'Stop the car! My tablet!'

Daddy outbreathed, obviously relieved it was not something very serious. 'You shouldn't have caused alarm like that,' he chided. 'One would think you'd found a snake on the car floor.'

But the daughter wasn't listening. She'd already pressed the button for the door and was at the boot. 'Open!' she cried.

'Voice not recognized,' came the female robotic voice.

She tried to force herself to calm down. It was there, she couldn't have left it behind. If she was to forget anything it couldn't be her beloved tablet. It had been her faithful companion since she was six, it made her forget to be lonely the many times she was alone. So how could she forget it? She was going to die!

'Open.' Daddy came to stand beside her and placed a reassuring hand on her, even if he had not the slightest idea on what the young girl was on about.

She immediately went for the bag and, several seconds later backed away from it, a look of total horror and disbelief all over her face.

'Adekunbi, are you okay?' Eartha asked. Which was rather rhetoric seeing the girl's expression.

'We have to go back, I left my tablet in the bathroom.'

Mide immediately shook his head. 'We can't.'

Eniiyi stared at him her eyes filled with pain.

Gosh, any moment now she'll start crying, Eartha thought, and then she'd be guilt-ridden for the rest of her life because she knew they couldn't possibly go back. They'd miss their flight.

Her husband was beginning to get worried. They couldn't possibly go back for the tablet, and the girl looked like she'd burst into tears but thankfully had not, only looking pained. Also he was worried about their vulnerability. Some few cars passing the highway glanced at them. Although it was just a little over seven, they were easy preys to highway robbers. What with Eartha's expensive state-of-art Pengine car that came out just two months ago.

'Let's get into the car,' he offered.

'Daddy,' cried Eniiyi, 'My tablet, we have to go back!'

'Look here, we can't go back just like that because of a piece of gadget. We have to be at the Abuja airport before eleven O'clock or we'd miss our flight. I know you don't want to go to the village but this plan of yours is never going to work. Now will you get in that car and let's get on with our journey.' Daddy pursed his lips and went back into the car.

Mommy gave her a sympathetic look and went back into the car. 

She contemplated staying rooted to the spot in defiance but knew even if they reversed the car into her, they'd still not go back to get her tablet.

So she went back into the car, silently fuming, a quivering volcano waiting to explode at the slightest touch. Eartha was seated in the back seat now and Eniiyi noticed the dashboard display autodrive.

She glared very hard at her mother, if looks could Eartha would've been dead with a laser hole bored into her face. Eniiyi shifted far away from her as possible, pressed tightly against the car door.

She awoke later to her father tapping her. She squinted and rubbed at her eyes.

'We're here, Adekunbi.'

She tried to process what he'd said through her sleep-addled brain. Then she remembered and understood. Were they at her grandmother's village already? She didn't know how long she'd slept or when she'd fall asleep but remembered the incidence that preceded it. She shied away from him and got out through the other door.