I came to this town for my national service with one major problem: finding a place to live. Accommodation was so difficult to get that I ended up staying with my boss for a while. She had a spare room and gave me enough space and comfort, but I still didn’t feel at ease living with someone I barely knew. So every weekend, whenever I had the time, I went out looking for a place of my own.

Finally, I was introduced to the landlord I’m currently living with. He told me he lived with his family and didn’t want a tenant who would become a pain in his neck. He gave me a long list of rules, but none of them bothered me because I’m naturally a quiet person.

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When I moved in, his whole family came to help me set up. Afterwards, I got introduced to the family: two children in their pre-teens and an older guy he said was his nephew. It was all calm and graceful, and the relationship was very respectful between us.

Anytime I cooked, somehow, his children found out and came around. The first time they came around, they specifically told me to give them some of the food. I was shocked by their bluntness and the way they were not shy about anything. I asked them to eat with me, and the way they ate the food, it was as though they had given me the money to cook for them.

From there, they would miraculously know I’d cooked, and they would come to eat with me. And then their father started thanking me for giving them food. Their mom would say, “My children say you’ve been serving them sumptuous food. Thank you.”

So these two guys would come even when I didn’t need them to be around. I started closing my door more often than not. Even then, they would knock and call out my name for me to open the door so they could come and eat. After several attempts, they would walk away, but when they saw me outside, they would complain that they came to knock but I didn’t open.

Sometimes, I wanted them to get the memo that they couldn’t come every time and anytime I cooked, but they were kids, and kids hardly read the room. I used this same tactic to keep them out when I didn’t want them around until one late Saturday afternoon, my landlord came to knock on my door.

“Are you cooking something? My wife has been sick lately, so she hasn’t been able to cook. I hate buying food from outside. Kindly let me taste your culinary skills today.”

I served him rice and gave him the last meat in my stew. He thanked me later like I’d given him water in the desert. He praised my meals and said if he had a grown-up son, he would have asked him to marry me. I smiled, collected my bowl, and went back inside.

A week later, he came to knock again. Another week, he came to knock again. And since he started coming around, the kids stopped coming. Maybe he shared his food with them. Maybe he told them to stop coming since he himself had taken their place. I saw his wife. She was healthy and climbing up the stairs every day. She thanked me for taking care of her husband.

“My husband really loves your food. Maybe one day, you should come and cook for us.”

I would have done it for them, used the whole day to cook for them so they would stop eating into my budget, but that day never came. She never called to ask or even give me money to prepare their dishes. Instead, my landlord would give his bowl to his kids to bring to me so I could fill it with food.

It got to a point where I was very angry, especially when I was done with national service and was home waiting for my boss’s call. She said she was going to do everything possible for me to be employed, so I shouldn’t leave. I had very little money on me, yet I would cook, and this man would bring his bowl.

So I put all shyness aside and told him my situation: that I was no longer working and had no money to be making dishes all the time, and that the little I made, I ate over the week. I thought he was even going to give me money or ask me to rather cook for them so I could have some for myself. Immediately after that conversation, he stopped coming.

He’s a pensioner. I don’t know if this is his first family because his wife is very young and the kids are young for a man his age. His wife doesn’t go to work or sell anything. She’s always in the house with him. You could barely see her outside. I can be in the house for a whole week and see her only once. It’s always the kids and the man.

When he stopped coming, I could breathe again. I could cook and eat all the meals myself. There were no knocks on my door and no kids shouting my name. The very day I went to work and came back, he was at the gate. He asked if I’d started working, and I gleefully said yes. I’d been retained where I did my service. That very weekend, he came to knock and delivered his bowl.

I told him I hadn’t cooked. He said, “So don’t forget about me when you cook. All these good things you’re doing for me will go into your next rent. You’ll see, I will not increase your rent until further notice.”

He wasn’t going to waive the rent. I laughed to myself. I’ve started treating him the way I treated the kids. I don’t open the door when I hear knocks on my door. I tell him that when I’m inside alone, I put earphones in my ears and listen to music, which is why I don’t hear him knock.

“Then that’s dangerous ooo. What if there’s an emergency and everyone is running? How would you know? Lower the volume so you’ll hear what’s happening around you.”

He would meet me at the gate and ask what I would cook and sometimes make an input.

“It’s been a long time since you cooked jollof oo. You’ll do some this week?”

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He’s shameless, and it amazes me that his wife doesn’t see anything wrong with that. I have a few months left on my rent. Once it’s due, I’ll leave this house. I like the place. It’s largely peaceful and calm around here. The only disturbance is the incessant knocking on my door to ask for food. It’s also very close to my place of work. I only have to walk for ten minutes, and I’m at work.

I’ll put all these aside and look for a new place where my landlord won’t demand that I feed him and his children. I tell everyone this story, and they laugh before they get angry. Some ask why I’ve been tolerating that from him. Others think it’s my fault for doing it even for the kids. I didn’t know it would graduate to this. It was a simple act of kindness I extended, but now it’s become my duty. When I leave, this will cease. No need to fight him or disrespect him.

—Roberta

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