Waves Aligning

by Adaora O

  “Nne’m, you have never told me about this part of your life. I always wondered how you could talk a little like Ejiofor’s mother even though you did not go to school. But why did your uncle do such a thing?” Chinny asked, sniffing back a sob.

  “I realised years later that my uncle had always been envious of my father and actively sought ways to clip our wings and keep us in obscurity. His plan was to waste my time to such an extent that I would have no other option than to succumb to my fate and get married. Oh, he was almost successful!”

  “Almost?” Chinny asked.

  “Yes. My uncle got his way in part because we not only ran short of funds after my father’s death, but I became too old to go back to school. To escape poverty, I got married to the first man that sought my hand – your father. But my uncle failed because I married the kindest man alive. Your father promised I would go back to school no matter my age, but you know life and its penchant for making puppets of man’s plans. Chi, please do not hold any grudge. Your father is only making this choice because his hands are tied. He is afraid of taking a chance on you because he thinks the world is tipped in favour of the male child and may still push you around even if you are educated. Make no mistake – if the funds show up tomorrow, he will not hesitate to give you the best. He has my father’s steel resolve but not his funds. At least not yet. His recent communication style is only a reflection of his frustrations. We are crushed that we cannot show you how much we care about you. Chi, please do not hate us. I promise you, we are thinking of ways to make it better. Believe me, we are.”

  Chinny looked at her mother with eyes that reflected wisdom beyond her years and nodded. “Yes Mother, I know Father loves me and is doing his best, but I also know something else… no matter what, I will be somebody important one day.” Ama wiped away the two tear drops that stole down her daughter’s right cheek and smiled her admiration. She held Chinny in a hug for a seemingly endless moment. Afterwards, Ama headed for the door but paused. She wanted to know how or where Chinny got all those books from. Disappointed in herself for doing such a poor job at hiding her box, Chinny told her mother that the books belonged to Ejiofor. He gave her all his school books at the end of every session.

  Regardless of the odds standing before her, Chinny made up her mind to aim for the stars. She settled in bed on her belly and began to read one of the many books in the box – English Made Fun Book Two. With Easter just a few weeks away, a spark lit her gloomy sky. Ejiofor and his family always came back to Abotiti village four days before Easter Sunday. So, Chinny not only slept like a well-fed and dry baby that night, but carried on sleeping through all the nights preceding Easter like the entire universe had not a single worry to offer her.

  *

  As soon as Kika saw Dede heading towards him, he tucked the Naira notes he was counting into his pocket with the stealth of a trained sniper. If there was something Kika could not share, it was his money. Not even with his younger brother Dede.

  When Dede got to his brother’s mini courtyard, he greeted him with the customary half hug and pretended he did not notice his mid-morning accounting. Kika smiled from ear to ear at Dede, for even though he could not share his notes with anyone, he loved his younger brother almost with the love of a father. Offering Dede a seat, he asked what he could serve him with an even bigger smile. Kika prided himself on the completion of his beautiful three-bedroom bungalow. The sitting room was always locked with a key, which he kept in his bedside cabinet. His wife, Violet, shared a room with their daughter Adaiba, while their two sons stayed in a second room when they were around. They managed their father’s spare-parts business in the next town. The third room served as Kika’s own mini palace. The only time Dede challenged his brother about his style of home governance proved to be a huge mistake – they kept malice for two weeks.

  “What can we offer you?” Kika asked again when his brother seemed not to have heard him the first time. Dede shook his head and informed his brother that he came to discuss something of great concern. “What is it brother?” Kika asked, consternation etched all over him. Dede confided in his brother about the dilemma he found himself in, regarding his daughter’s education.

  “She is quite intelligent. You know she passed the secondary entrance at one sitting? Looking at her daily has been extreme torture for me since I withdrew her from school. It is almost as though I am limiting her because she is a girl. Ever since I told her that she would still not be able to resume school this session, I have died of guilt a little more each day. If only my resources were enough for the two of them, I—”

  Kika interjected, “But you are only being wise. Nobody will expect you to invest in a girl’s education and leave the boy, when we all know that in no time she would end up in a man’s house. A man that can even order her not to care for her own parents. Besides that, a female is what she is – a female who is weak. How much can she achieve with an education? A boy on the other hand can stretch his ambitions and with an education, his possibilities are limitless. Since you can only afford to send one child to school, I say choose Dubem and let Chinny do something else like restaurant business, hairdressing or tailoring.”

  Dede sighed. “Honestly, the child who will care for me in my old age is the last thing on my mind. What I want is a legacy for my two children regardless of their gender and the best legacy any father can give his children is the exposure and empowerment an education provides. I think I am failing Chinny because she is my second child, a girl child who will not carry my name forever. What is in a name or gender anyway? Look at me… the only reason I lost my job as supervisor at the Southern Railway Line is because Papa believed I could still manage with a pass in mathematics. Had he given me the money to re-sit just that one subject, I would not have been among those selected to be relieved of their duties when the railway line experienced financial challenges. Now, here I am in the village, cutting trees and sawing wood to make sawdust for poultry farmers. Meanwhile some of my female co-workers retained their jobs because they passed mathematics with credits.” The emphasis Dede placed on ‘female’ drew a sheepish smile from his brother.

  Still not swayed by Dede’s reasoning, Kika said, “The issue here is that you do not have the money to send two children to school, simple! Do you want to kill yourself? I find it tough, scraping around to send Adaiba my daughter to school, and between you and me, when it becomes too hard to bear, she will go and marry like her other mates. By the way, you talk about returning to the village as if it is such a terrible thing. What about those of us who never left and consolidated here? I did not do too badly as a village champion, did I?” The two men burst into hearty laughter as Kika called out to his wife to get them some refreshments. Violet had been hovering indoors, making herself scarce. She sensed the men were discussing something of extreme importance.

  2

  A few harmattan seasons later and with change being an unavoidable part of time, trips to Mr Oko’s house for water no longer featured in Chinny’s early morning routine. Clean water now flowed through the taps in the Onas’ home. Chinny counted the money in her piggy bank made from an empty milk can; 35,700 Naira. Looking just like a cat who drank all the warm milk, she put away her money but not before Ama came in.

  “You should open a bank account soon. It is not safe to keep this amount of money in the house. Anything can happen – thieves, flood, fire…”

  Before her mother could go on in her wild journey down doom’s lane, Chinny raised her right hand, making an exaggerated circle over and around her head in a superstitious motion to push away ill luck and said, “God forbid! It is not my portion.” The dread of losing her money filled Chinny each time she thought about how much sweat trickled down her nape as she earned it. Chinny learnt to make soap, which she supplied to her customers. Though she always told them her product could be used to wash clothes and dishes, never to be trusted for their skins, they bought large quantities anyw
ay. This, in addition to a few other odd jobs she did, fetched her substantial money. Ama found her daughter’s gesture comical and told her to think seriously about that bank account as she left for the monthly market meeting. About to float away in her world of novels, Chinny made a mental note to open a bank account as soon as possible. She knew it was no use wishing ill luck away without a commensurate effort on one’s part. The words she always threw at Adaiba, her cousin, echoed in her head, ‘The reason God put a brain and not custard in the human skull is not to occupy space, but to promote thinking.’

  With the Clarkes’ home-coming to Abotiti to mark the yearly celebrations now a tradition, Chinny could bet all the money in her piggy bank on Ejiofor’s bear hug on her birthday, which often fell around Easter. Only once, and a long time ago too, did the Clarkes pass on spending Christmas in the village. The usual wit and cordial banter Chinny enjoyed with her best friend only came in the letter he sent through Adaiba on her way back from the city, after her vacation at her aunt’s. The letter said the Clarkes were going to England for Christmas. She took out the five-year-old letter from underneath her mattress to read again and recalled how her disappointment gradually slid into acceptance, then elation at the prospect of Ejiofor going to the place they both had only read about and seen on the television. The smile that began to form around her mouth faded a fraction when she got to the part where Ejiofor wrote about hoping to study in a university in Europe. Here she was, still grasping for a secondary education while her friend’s wishful thought of many years ago seemed to be turning into a reality. Ejiofor had plans of not only going to university, but to one miles away from her. Not wanting a dampener on her mood, she tucked the letter away. She had a seventeenth birthday get-together to plan, and Easter was in a week.

  “Chinny!!!” Dede’s voice rang through the calm of noon.

  “Yes Father!” She skipped out in response.

  “Your mother has gone to her stall, so you need to clean the fish I bought. Make peppered fish soup for dinner.”

  Chinny headed for the kitchen instantly but stopped mid-way. “Nna’m, maybe I can make it after I return from work since it is for dinner.”

  “Okay my child.” Dede seldom disagreed with his daughter’s line of thought and he tried his best not to make it obvious this time. So he added, “But hurry back so we do not have a late dinner. Remember you told us that if we eat our dinner late, we will all die. I am going back to the shop.” Chinny laughed long and hard at her father’s comical interpretation of her advice that eating dinner too late into the night caused a gathering of stomach fat, which a team of researchers claimed to be a contributing factor to certain diseases. She went back to her room to get dressed and missed the look of admiration in her father’s eyes.

  Dede’s heart welled up with sheer pride at who his daughter had grown to become. He drew inspiration from the way she handled the disappointments in her life. Rather than moan over his unfulfilled promises, by age eleven Chinny began taking jobs to gather funds for herself, her lively spirit undeterred. She reflected the true image of what any human being should be, taking huge obstacles as mere blocks to be removed, walked over or walked around. As he drove back to his shop, Dede made a decision. He had a plan for his daughter and would discuss it with Ama later in the evening.

  Decked in a pair of boot-legged denim trousers and a halter-necked African print top, Chinny looked amazingly beautiful for a seventeen-year-old young lady. Her mother’s good genes could take credit for Chinny’s smooth matte-black skin, but the extra glow could only be explained by her unrepentant love for fruits and nuts. Chinny appreciated healthy eating but did not mind at all if she went to bed on a stomach full of almond nuts and oranges. She spent hours picking the fruits that fell from the many almond trees in her father’s compound. Once done eating the succulent fruits, she sun-dried the large seeds to crack them open afterwards for their delicious nuts. For a long time, Chinny referred to the large fruits by their popular name – ‘fruit’ – until Ejiofor not only told her they were called almonds but showed her a picture of one in his Science Is Discovery Book One. Only then did she re-christen her dear ‘fruit’.

  Ready for her day’s activity, Chinny pulled out her wooden truck. This truck radiated class. It wore a multi-coloured duvet fabric, which made it not only appealing, but comfortable to sit on. Strips of coloured ribbons also dangled on its two handles. A small rubber ball attached to the right handle let out a chime whenever pressure was applied. As she pushed the truck out of the gate, Chinny moved with the grace of a queen. The lovely flat shoes Ejiofor’s mother gave to her last Christmas took credit for the extra bounce in her steps this hot afternoon. She paused for a moment to reach for some mint drops from her back pocket and, popping one disc of coolness into her mouth, she wheeled away in rebellion against the menacing sun.

  At ten minutes past two o’clock in the afternoon, Chinny arrived at the Future Bright Primary School. She sighted Rufus, the school’s security guard, from a distance and even though she considered him a bit of a chatterbox, his conversations in Nigerian pidgin always left her thoroughly amused. She greeted him with a warm “Good afternoon Mr Rufus.”

  Rufus looked up from the paper in his hands and beamed. “My friend how naa?”

  “Fine oo!” Chinny replied, in a gallant attempt to match her friend’s speaking style. Rufus’ face showed his delight on seeing Chinny, but she noticed how fast he went back to poring over the paper in his hand and decided to be a bother. With a naughty glint in her eyes, she chided, “Ha Rufus! Did I not see you betting last week? What happened? Did you not win any money?” She was referring to Rufus’ favourite pastime of playing the local lottery, called ‘pool betting’. Rufus replied in the negative but soon had an ear-to-ear grin as he informed Chinny of the breakthrough permutation technique he learnt the day before, from a fellow player who won last week’s jackpot. Rufus was doubly sure the technique – if applied properly – would make all the difference in his life. He believed that this time, he would ‘hit it big’.

  He tilted the paper towards Chinny, pointing to a group of numbers on it, and continued, his eyes alight with excitement. “You see this one eeh? I don pam am. In fact, the money wey I go drop for this game na times three of the money wey I drop last week. This one na sure banker.” By now, Chinny reeled with laughter at the lack of wisdom reflected by her friend’s plan to bet three times the amount he bet on the lottery the week before.

  “RUFUS! You will finish your last month’s salary! How much did you bet last week?”

  Rufus hesitated before deciding that telling her posed a risk to his peace of mind. “I no go tell you. You go tell my wife,” he said.

  Chinny shook her head in denial and assured him of her silence on the matter. “Never! I will not tell her. After all you did not win and besides, last week has passed.” He regarded her for a while and with a lame grin, Rufus informed her that he placed a bet of 1,200 Naira last week. Chinny shook her head in pity at the unassuming soul called Rufus. Her next words took Rufus by surprise. “Mr Rufus, have you wondered why that man who won the bet last week does not want to win again this week since he knows the ‘pam’ to combine?”

  It took moments for Rufus to digest her words before in a moment of epiphany he opened his mouth in realisation. “Na true you talk oo! E be like say this thing na luck oo!”

  The school bell went off and Chinny cast a quick glance at one of the school’s blocks, then returned her attention to Rufus. “Yes, I speak the truth and if you have good plans for your two beautiful children, you will put an end to your get-rich-quick schemes and try saving up.” Just then, amidst the children milling out of their classes, four children spanning ages three to five spotted Chinny and ran towards her with unmistakable glee. “Easy, no running, be careful,” Chinny called out as she attempted to steady them. She reeled out the questions. “Did you enjoy school? Did you finish all your snacks? Who got
everything in class today?” She picked each one of them up and sat them on the truck. Chinny feigned a tantrum when they informed her that they ate up all their snacks. Rufus looked on with a smile. Now comfortable with the children’s sitting positions, Chinny made to wheel away, but paused and turning to Rufus said, “You know you are a very rich man?”

  He denied it very quickly. “Me? Nooooo! I be poor man oo.”

  Chinny laughed ever so softly and continued, “You are rich because only a rich man can bring out 3,600 Naira to make better the course of another man’s life all in the name of playing pool.” With that, Chinny wheeled away.

  A shocked and speechless Rufus neither heard nor acknowledged the chants of “Goodbye Mr Rufus” ringing out from the children. He suddenly snapped out and called out to Chinny’s retreating figure, “Wait! How you take know how much I go bet this week?”

  Without as much as a backward glance, she waved. “Bye bye Mr Rufus.”

  Hands akimbo, Rufus kept his eyes on her and shaking his head, muttered in complete wonder and admiration, “Chaiii brain, brain, brain!!!”

  *

  “‘A’ is for antelope, ‘B’ is for basket, ‘C’ is for coconut, ‘D’ is for donkey…” Chinny sang while Eniola repeated after her. As the only child left on the truck, Eniola, or Eni as she was called by those charmed by her disposition, now looked like a little princess being transported in her own carriage. She reminded Chinny of another Eniola, a little girl she ferried a few years ago, but unlike Eni she had been nicknamed Nini by those who were fond of her. Now in primary four, Eniola Okoye or Nini remained an absolute charmer. With the sun’s unbearable wrath descending on her, Chinny made a note to pay Nini a visit one of these days and started a trot on the dirt road leading to Eni’s house. Eni was in her second term in primary one and as each day slid by, Chinny feared that a separation lurked in the corners, since at the end of the third term in primary one, every child would have assumed a considerable level of independence and would no longer need to be ferried to and from school by her. This served as another source of funds for the education Chinny so pined for. She identified parents who did not have the time or who were reluctant to take their children to school every day and sold a service to them. She would pick their children up in her fancy truck, take them to school and when school was over, bring them back to their parents’ home, store or restaurant at a fee of 25 Naira daily. Some parents owed her occasionally, but they always paid their debts. Though keen on the money she made, Chinny experienced more fulfilment knowing she featured in another child’s fighting chance at education.