Waves Aligning

by Adaora O

  As Adaiba saw her cousin off to the road, the two young ladies chatted animatedly about the forthcoming examinations. This would be Adaiba’s second attempt at the private examinations. Chinny laughed at the naked terror in her cousin’s eyes when they talked about mathematics, for hard as she tried to understand the dread attached to the subject, it remained a mystery to her. Grateful to be an art student, Adaiba said she did not mind a pass grade in the multi-tentacled monster of a subject. They said their goodbyes and went on their separate ways, Adaiba to the vegetable market and Chinny back to her house. A few metres from her house, Chinny spotted a car driving off in the opposite direction and thought she recognised the vehicle – and the driver for that matter. The car looked just like the one Iyke – Ejiofor’s uncle – drove. She thought nothing of it since the Clarkes were not in the village. Ama was out visiting. She told Chinny it had to do with the grand sale she planned on hosting, so Chinny had some cooking to do and could not afford any waste of time, wondering who came or went.

  *

  Her examinations breezed by just like Ejiofor promised they would. All her subjects came and went in one piece, save for mathematics. Chinny could not wrap her head around what all the fuss was about. Almost everybody put on a pair of dark sunglasses inside the moderately lit examination hall on the day mathematics was to be written. The tension in the room was thicker than chunky beef cuts as people chatted with those they would typically not speak to. Fortunately, Chinny did not lose sleep over crunching numbers and she empathised with the unlucky lot battling with the ‘monster’ who they had allowed to thrive unnoticed.

  Right before the examinations, much to the chagrin of the candidates, the invigilators shuffled their sitting positions. All plans for collaborative solutions during the examination fell through. What a disaster! At the end of the examinations, as the invigilators collected the answer scripts, three young men jumped into the hall and shoved aside the chief invigilator, causing the already collected answer scripts to fly in different directions. When the assistant invigilator confronted them, one of the hoodlums screamed, “E-ve-ry-body, leave this place!” With that said, all the candidates scrambled out with or without their personal effects. Chinny ran past the tricycle park and stopped only when she sighted some police officials jogging towards the examination centre.

  With the frenzy of the general certificate examinations waning at the Onas’ residence, their routine slowly returned. Chinny cleared the dinner dishes from the dining table and wondered what troubled her father. These past months, he laughed and talked a lot less. Something is bothering him, but Mother does not care. She is so engrossed with sorting out her treasures, she mused. In truth, Ama recently occupied herself with sorting wrappers and beads. Most of them belonged to her late mother. She planned on selling them off to make the money that would give Chinny a head start when she gained admission into a university. In Ama’s opinion, no longer did Dede have the fighting spirit he once did. She found it impossible to understand why he appeared reluctant to go to Mr Peters for help. Deciding to take on the challenge herself, Ama thought through a few ideas, before concluding that her beads and wrappers sale took the first spot on the list. She had no clue that her husband’s seeming nonchalance stemmed from an effort to shield his family from the real depth of the cruel reality they stood against. Thankfully, Southern Rail paid off the mortgage, so Dede’s worry at an impending foreclosure shifted from the bank to the railway company. It appeared a change of course took place after all.

  During the characteristically long church service, Chinny spent well over half the intercessory prayer time in deep slumber. As usual, once it was time to say the final ‘Amen’, she became wide awake. Sometimes she wondered if it was not too much of a coincidence that sleep often enveloped her during these prayer sessions and comically lifted once they ended. The sermon however piqued her interest since the topic – Faith even when it makes no sense – resonated with a chord in her symphony. As they approached home, Dede spotted a figure sitting on the front porch. The Onas never looked forward to entertaining visitors on hot Sunday afternoons. They preferred to settle to a quiet lunch and enjoy their rest afterwards. The visitor was male, but nobody could make out the face. The tricycle got close enough, and the sitting figure looked up. “It’s Dubem! It’s Dubem!” squealed Chinny. Ama’s face lit up but her forehead furrowed almost immediately, while Dede flashed an uneasy smile. Dubem got up and moved towards his family when they alighted from the tricycle. He had on a pair of dark sunglasses and greeted his folks with the customary side hug and shallow bowing of the head. An ecstatic Chinny threw both arms around her brother, oblivious to the portentous silence around her.

  The resounding lullaby Dubem hummed while he slept made catching any more sleep a futile effort for Chinny. She cast a dejected glance at her little bedside clock as its arms crawled steadily towards 6:00 am. Looking at Dubem in the bed across from her, it seemed like ages since they slept in the same room. Since Ama’s auntie had been childless for many years, she decided to take Dubem under her wings. So, he left home for Auntie Julie’s house to conclude his primary education. Sadly, following her tragic death after a protracted illness, he returned home for his primary school leaving certificate at Future Bright Primary School. Life slowly became a tough patch for the Ona family. With time, Dubem not only became withdrawn and a shadow of his former boisterous self, but also stopped doing well in school.

  *

  Mr Oliseh had been Dede’s friend for as long as they could both remember. Being an orphan, life threw daggers at him, but Dede was always there to support his friend. Oliseh abandoned school in the middle of his class three examinations to fend for himself. He started out being a farm hand and later began hunting for food and money at the age of fifteen. The returns were not remarkable, but he made just enough to live. He led a secluded life and did not relate with many people. He did not go out much, did not have many friends, never got married and never had any children. A little birdie said a ruthless swarm of bees attacked him on one of his hunting expeditions, making his reproductive organ area their sole target. For many, the story of the bees served as the connecting dots between Oliseh and the reason he preferred a secluded life.

  Secluded life or not, Oliseh invested his time and effort to reconnect with his long-lost friend and had virtually given up when they ran into each other at DLSS (Demonstration of Light Secondary School). Chinny was in her third term in class one when Dubem eventually passed one of the toughest entrance examinations. To say that everyone was confused would be an understatement. In the end, a few called it a miracle while others inferred his younger sister’s admission served as the much-needed push for him to get serious with his studies.

  Dede had gone to Udu town to sign the acceptance form and pick up the billing information for Dubem’s new school when he ran into his long-lost friend, who incidentally served as the chief security officer of the school. After exchanging pleasantries, Oliseh took his friend to the four-bedroom bungalow he called home. Thanks to DLSS, it was nicely furnished. Anyone who knew anything about setting up a house would conclude that DLSS did not take their staff welfare lightly.

  “Oliseh, so you still cook?” Dede joked when his host served him a plate of steaming hot yam pottage garnished with fresh fish, mint and pumpkin leaves. With food and small talk off the plate, Dede confided in his friend. “I will not be able to bite this bullet.” He handed the bill to Oliseh who after scrutinising the document, asked his friend why. Dede went on to narrate his entire financial situation and closed by saying that it may be best to let Dubem do something else which did not require cerebral competence, as the child took eight different entrance examinations before he could pass one.

  “What is the guarantee that this is not going to be a dead end? What if Dubem’s success in this entrance examination happened by chance? What if he begins to fail again? Anyway, what I am saying is that I cannot afford to pay boardi
ng fees; this school is two towns away from home and the boy cannot walk to school. I will jus—” but Oliseh interrupted his friend’s tale of woes.

  “Dede, calm down. There is always a way. Look at my house. What am I doing with all this space? DLSS provided me with a fully furnished house. Why can’t I help someone else? Let your son stay with me during school sessions and when the term ends, he can go home to you. Look, I will not stand by and do nothing while you throw away your son’s future. I do not believe he is dull. There is something wrong somewhere and I personally think whatever it is has returned to where it belongs – in the past. Your son will have an education. He will not be a loafer. No! Not on my watch!”

  Overcome with gratitude to Oliseh who had always been one with strong emotions, Dede recalled how his kind-hearted friend used to amuse him back in the day because his highly emotional personality could not be reconciled with his impressively intimidating bulk. When Dede expressed his fear about times when he may find it impossible to pay even the tuition, Oliseh told him that nobody ever achieved great feats without first launching out. “We will cross that stream when we get there. Relax my friend. Life is good, and God is great,” he finished.

  *

  A happy Dede broke the news to his even happier family. Somewhere in the corners of their hearts, before now, they feared that on getting to the school, Dubem’s admission would turn out to be an error. Oh, what a relief that it did not! But the most potent ingredient in their pot of excitement was the evasion of the heavy boarding fees. When they were alone, Ama asked her husband if they made a mistake investing in their son. Slapping a mosquito off the back of his ear, Dede said, “I do not know my dear. I wish I did. I guess time will tell.”

  Today, as Dede and Ama secretly regretted their decision to send Dubem rather than Chinny to school, Dubem turned in his sleep, adjusted his neck and continued his lullaby, only this time it went an octave higher. Emotions were ever at war each time Chinny thought about her brother. Most times, what she felt for him was pure sibling love but anytime she allowed herself the luxury of a journey down the dark, winding road of self-pity and frustration, she experienced fierce anger and struggled with resentment. This morning however, all Chinny had for her brother was pure sibling love – but it did not diminish her desire to reclaim her room. Why did Mother decide to use Dubem’s room as the sorting centre for her beads and wrappers, and why does Dubem snore like Father anyway? she thought in exasperation. Since her brother did not show any sign of waking up any time soon, Chinny scurried out of bed. If she could not catch any more sleep, it made perfect sense to begin her morning chores.

  “I did not lie to you. I just did not want to burden you with unnecessary information.” On her way to the kitchen, Chinny froze and wondering what her father meant, leaned into their door. She stuck out her tongue at the voice of reasoning telling her that listening in on conversations one had not been invited to smacked of bad manners. Her parents seldom argued. Dede’s voice sounded stern. She cringed as her mother retorted in a caustic voice Chinny did not recognise.

  “Burden me? Dede, you did not want to burden me? You call selling our assets and considering such a revolting idea a burden on me? Why did you have that discussion in the first place? And if you were not considering it, why did you collect it?” Dede responded in a muffled tone. Ama’s shrill voice made her words crystal clear, but it was difficult to understand the entire conversation. Suddenly Dede’s voice boomed as he blamed Ama for her insensitivity to his frustrations, accusing her of resenting rather than supporting him.

  Dubem placed his arm on his sister’s shoulder, startling her. She turned towards her brother. The anguish in his eyes jolted her. “What is going on? Is it always this way?” he whispered.

  “I do not know. This is new. They never fight aloud.” Chinny’s panic-stricken voice was barely audible.

  By now, Ama was crying. Dubem feared the neighbours would hear. “This is a child that has been passed over in the most heart-wrenching ways all because she is female,” she sobbed.

  Chinny looked at her brother and whispered into his ear, “This is definitely about me.”

  Ama continued, “She is intelligent, purposeful and hard working. Against all odds, she learnt to carry herself with grace and has not once lost her love and respect for us. Now rather than come up with constructive ways to heal her crushed spirit or rekindle her hopes of the future we owe her, you come up with this unwholesome solution. Why have you refused to consider Mr Peters?”

  Dede started to say that his proposed solution would not seem so bad if she paid attention to him, but Ama continued, “Are you not tired of always skilfully evading the core of the matter? Be the man I once knew and own this issue, Dede. Bring up a wholesome solution we can both work with.” Neither Chinny nor her brother could understand the meaning of what they just heard.

  “What did he collect?” Chinny whispered, not expecting Dubem to answer. Moments after their parents became quiet, Dubem and Chinny returned to their bedroom, each very troubled and actively imagining their individual theories. One thing was unanimously understood by the siblings; their father had plans for Chinny and from the way it sounded, they were not good ones.

  With school break over, and Dubem due to return to his studies, Chinny braced for the usual lonesome air. Not much was given away by their parents as they tried hard to hide the tension between them. About to board the tricycle, Dubem hugged his sister ever so tightly as he promised to do everything he could to keep her safe and happy. To keep her brimming eyes from her brother, Chinny looked away as she waved him goodbye. She swallowed hard on the lump forming in her throat and wondered how Dubem proposed to fulfil his promise, considering the mud of uncertainty she currently waded in. Chinny did not see the thick mass of unbendable steel that lay beneath her brother’s calm and unassuming mien.

  Chinny carried on her usual activities although her typical sparkle appeared to be on recess. She started another fundraising venture where she distributed finely diced and fried beef, which she tied neatly in little transparent bags, popularly called santana. Besides her individual customers who loved her famous beef bites, the convenience stores were her major customers and bought most of the beef off her to sell at a profit. This business fetched her even better returns than her cart transport business and each day’s sales pulled her closer to her dreams.

  Delicious wafts of curry, thyme and bay leaf, coupled with the shrill protest of beef cuts as they lost their redness to super-hot groundnut oil roused Mrs Ona from her nap. Ama came into the kitchen and joked about people who preyed on other people’s resources to run their business. When Chinny asked her exactly what resources she was referring to, her mother told her that she would soon begin serving her monthly tax invoices for using her site, cooking stove and pots. “You should be thankful that I buy my oil and spices,” Chinny threw back giggling. Days after the quarrel between Dede and Ama, they observed a withdrawal in Chinny and tried all they could to lighten the mood around the house. Although they suspected she may have heard a bit, if not all, of their argument, they were not prepared to discuss anything with her. This frustrated Chinny even more. “Why is nobody talking to me?” she wailed at no one in particular, one of those nights when she cried herself to sleep. Chinny had perfected the art of crying herself to sleep and putting up a considerably bright and happy facade in the morning.

  Lately, her father had been receiving too many letters that he read in privacy and was quick to either tuck away or tear into irredeemable shreds. Chinny’s curiosity mounted with each passing day. So, on this day, not different from any other, while her parents were out visiting, Chinny spent time opening her father’s bedside drawers to pore through files of letters but found nothing out of the ordinary. She gave up and started walking out the door when she experienced a brainwave. In a dash, Chinny reached for the mattress but found nothing underneath. As she set the mattress down, disappoint
ment etched all over her, she heard what sounded like paper shuffle. She looked again but found nothing. She spotted the zip on the mattress and with fingers quivering like feathers, Chinny unzipped it and to her delight, found three envelopes. The contents of the first envelope informed her that they stood the risk of losing their home if certain payments were not made. The second letter did not make too much sense to Chinny. A certain Mr Peters informed her father that Southern Rail planned to repossess their home in a matter of months and that it would do his family much good if he reconsidered his stance regarding their last discussion. Chinny wondered what the discussion had been about.

  The next envelope held a piece of paper that shocked Chinny to her toes. It was a cheque from someone called Iyke Uzor. Chinny hoped Iyke Uzor and Iyke – Ejiofor’s uncle – were not the same person. Sweat trickled down the crease in her forehead and the back of her neck as she tried to understand why anyone would issue a cheque for 600,000 Naira to her father? The knock on the door brought Chinny’s inquest to an end. Letters back in place, zipper redone, and bed laid back, she scurried out of the room to see who it was. Dede looked raddled and neither heard nor responded to Chinny’s half-hearted “Good evening Father”. He went straight to his bedroom.

  As soon as Chinny got to her room, she dialled Ejiofor’s number and went straight for the jugular. “What is your mother’s maiden name?” Ejiofor, who was in the middle of lectures, gave her a curt reply and ended the call. Her heart sank. “Uzor.” Humiliation washed over her. Had her father descended as low as begging Ejiofor’s uncle for money?