by Adaora O
The evening breeze brushed over Chinny’s skin as she strolled back home from walking with her friend to his home, back to her house and once more to his home. Ejiofor was going back tomorrow. His father heard that he was in the country and his irritation at his son’s mindless devotion to Chinny went sky-high. “You need to explain to me how rushing away from school at every flimsy opportunity adds up to you acquiring a sterling degree! First thing tomorrow morning, you will return to school. Have I made myself unequivocally clear?!!!” he boomed over the phone.
Ejiofor did not expect a less caustic reaction from his father anyway. He smiled as he said his “Yes sir, okay sir, I am sorry sir and good night sir,” before hanging up the phone with a smirk. His mission was accomplished, and the old man could go suck on an unripe lemon if he so wished.
Something certainly smelled nice and it came from the kitchen. Ravenous, Chinny went into the kitchen to help herself to the beans pudding, popularly called moimoi, sitting in the pot. She settled on the little stool in the kitchen and unleashed the vengeance of the starvation she unwittingly inflicted on herself the entire day. Dubem stood in the kitchen doorway unnoticed, watching in delight as she gobbled her food and wondered if his sister had any idea just how much he loved her.
Sadly, nobody knew that beneath that aloof, self-absorbed and unintelligent exterior lay a perceptive, introspective and profound individual. Dubem had not always been mundane. The once happy-go-lucky Dubem began his journey of evolution the first time he realised that the odds may not be in favour of his little sister. “Speak gently, do you not know you are a girl?” “Take it easy! You are a girl. Things must not always go your way, you are a girl.” “Shut up. Is that the way to talk to a boy?” These reprimands served as side dishes in his little sister’s daily menu.
An event that marked the turning point in Dubem’s perception of life, and which still stuck out like a sore thumb in his memory, occurred during one of their family reunions. Dede, his father, bought roasted breadfruit nuts. Aunty Violet shared the popular snack into portions on a big tray and asked the children to choose their preferred portion according to their ages from the oldest to the youngest. When Chinny stepped up to take her chosen portion, almost all the adults reprimanded her, saying that a boy, two years younger than she was, had to take his share first. She argued that, being two years older than the boy, it was her turn to choose her snack. That day, Chinny learnt from the adults that age was not material since the other child in question belonged to the masculine gender. The support she anticipated from her parents did not come. They kept their peace. Chinny cried so much and refused to take the snack altogether. The evening’s chatter resumed as though nothing happened and she even thought she saw Dubem go for a second helping. Unknown to Chinny, her brother had returned his own snack to the tray. Eight-year-old Dubem refused to stand for a concept that robbed his sister of her right as an individual.
Thereafter, Dubem made it his responsibility to protect his sister and had since done everything to promote her cause. He lied, cheated and did many other things he dared not breathe to another soul. Everybody wrote Dubem off, after his failure in examinations seemed to have become second nature to him. Only after Chinny caught up with Dubem and gained admission into secondary school did he decide to pass his entrance examinations.
Shockwaves washed over Dubem when he learnt that Chinny, who was apparently more intellectually endowed than he appeared to be, would be withdrawn from school so that he could get ahead in life. That this decision was reached, merely because of their difference in gender, made it more painful for him. Dubem’s resolve did not waver but only heightened as he continued to watch with keen interest the family a few blocks away – the Clarkes. They had not always been financially comfortable; Mr Clarke started as an administrative clerk in one of the private universities, took advantage of the learning environment and advanced his own education. He became a junior lecturer in a polytechnic, but his big break came when he landed a part-time job at a construction company. Ejiofor’s mum, asides from being the head teacher in a primary school, ran a cleaning agency where she offered laundry, office cleaning and home cleaning services to her clients.
Dubem once asked his parents why they were not as comfortable as the Clarkes. They laughed at his sweet navïety and introduced him to the two-group system of the world. One group received oranges, while tons of lemons were dumped on the other. The little boy bought their explanation, but not for too long. The passage of time was to present Dubem with two more groups. The first of which received oranges too, but never got around to the juicing process, becoming burdened with rotten oranges, which turned into their source of bitterness at life. And whilst the last group also got their fair share of lemons, they not only made lemonade which they drank for energy, they also stuck around those who got oranges, conscientiously picking up the fruit seeds that lay carelessly discarded, planting and nurturing them to fruitful trees, bearing juicy oranges. The Clarkes belonged to this last group, while the Onas’ teeth had become brown with the corrosion of acidic lemonade. Dubem’s time in Mr Oliseh’s house presented him with the will to give up drinking unpalatable lemon juice and begin picking up his orange seeds.
Not until Chinny finished her sumptuous meal of moimoi did she bother to ask her brother, “Who made this?”
Dubem laughed heartily and answered with a question. “Who else makes moimoi this good?” Happy with his sister’s renewed appetite, it no longer bothered Dubem that she now skipped using the dining table for her meals – a practice the younger lady of the house opposed vehemently in the past.
It was the usual wind-down mode at half-past nine that night at the Onas’. Chinny wrote down the new words she learnt for the day, ‘obnoxious’ and ‘calaboose’. She tested them aloud, “What my parents propose to do is obnoxious and they deserve calaboose.” She chuckled at the wobbly structure of her phrase and said it again before turning in for the night.
The harsh intrusion of the doorbell extracted a sigh from Dede who had begun to give in to the soothing comfort of sleep while listening to the news. Dubem rinsed off the last plate and hurried out of the kitchen to see who had come visiting so late in the night. “Iyke?” Dubem did not expect to see anyone in their house this late, let alone Ejiofor’s uncle. He jumped when Iyke slapped his shoulder in what was supposed to be a friendly greeting. Once Dede saw who their visitor was, he lost his composure.
Something did not sit right. Did his father owe Iyke or did Iyke have something on his father? Were they in on something together? Dubem could not decide on what thought path to follow. He left the two men in the sitting room or so it would appear, and from behind the door, leaned into their discussion. Dubem’s mouth fell open and his eyes became two big watermelons as the truth echoed in his ears. Iyke gave his father some financial aid and in return, Dede was to convince Chinny to marry him. Dubem could not believe his error in ever associating the word decent with Iyke. It all now made perfect sense. Mother must have been outraged. This is why Chinny ran away!! he thought.
He strained very hard to hear the rest of their conversation. “We need to tread softly, Iyke. My daughter is a very intelligent girl. If she suspects that you are being pushed her way, this will never work. The only reason I am even considering your proposition is because you profess to love and care about her. I suggest you try to win her by yourself.”
Fair enough. He is a young, eligible bachelor but where does the money come in? Dubem thought.
Iyke remained silent for a while before resuming his near whisper.
“You know Chinny is very strong-willed. I have already sounded her out and she is focused on her own course. But why have you refused to cash the cheque I gave to you?” Dubem listened with growing pride as his father explained that in spite of the financial constraints that made it difficult to ignore his proposal at the time, he had taken a while to think it through and concluded that their arrangeme
nt reeked of nothing but manipulation, deception and slavery.
“If you can loan me the money, I would be eternally grateful, but it would be a favour from one human being to another. Not because you expect me to arm-twist or influence my daughter into getting married to you. I love her very much and will do everything in my power to be the father she once knew.”
Iyke found it impossible to reconcile Dede’s words. Not sure of what had happened since the last time he spoke to Mr Ona, it was clear to him that torrents of water had run under the bridge of their previous discussion. Dubem could not hold himself back any longer. He walked into the sitting room and began to draw the already drawn blinds and rearrange perfectly placed chairs. Iyke took the cue and asked for his cheque. Dede walked into his room and with drooping shoulders, returned with the cheque, handed it over and thanked Iyke who left as fast as his legs could carry him. With tired eyes and a bowed head, Dede made to retire to his room, but Dubem tapped him on the shoulders. When Mr Ona turned towards his son, who enveloped him in a hug, it dawned on him that his son must have heard everything. Dubem’s arms around Dede felt like a balm over his aching heart.
In the bedroom, Ama asked her husband, “Is he gone?” He nodded with a thin film of tears in his eye. But that night, he went to bed an encouraged man.
*
The house needed urgent domestic intervention. For so long, it had gone without attention. But right after Iyke’s clandestine visit and Dubem’s narration to Chinny, her spirits competed with the eagles as she busied herself with cobwebbing, sweeping and mopping. As she worked through the chaos, she mused over how her boisterous imagination almost ran her into the wilds. She chuckled when she remembered Ejiofor’s loud and mile-long laughter after she narrated over the phone the misconceptions Dubem straightened out for her.
“Uncle Iyke has regressed into a child trapped in the body of a full-grown man,” said Ejiofor, his voice a pitch lower than before. And to his suggestion that they feign ignorance of Iyke’s failed attempt at cradle snatching, Chinny gave Ejiofor a loud virtual high five.
No longer did talking to her parents about the events that led to her dramatic flight pose such a grim task. Pride welled up in her at the clarity of what they thought about Mr Peters. Dede and Ama were vigorous with their apologies and regretted allowing the excruciating climb of their lives suggest options they chose not to rehash. The renewed confidence in the value her parents placed on her provided Chinny with the motivation to throw the past behind her.
The candle wax would not come off without leaving a scratch on the wooden table in the sitting room. So Chinny went to fetch a match box. The wax needed some heat to get it off. She had not quite made it out of the sitting room when her cousin Adaiba banged on the door. Puzzled by her cousin’s obstinate ignorance of the ease a doorbell provided, Chinny opened the door and Adaiba charged in.
“Yes, just the person I wanted to see. Are you just waking up? Where is everyone?”
“Good morning to you too,” Chinny laughed. Her cousin’s boisterous and infectiously cheerful disposition never ceased to put a smile on her face. The twinkle in Adaiba’s eyes could stop a moving train, or so one of her suitors had said. Adaiba swept past her cousin and heaved herself onto the most comfortable chair in the sitting room – Dede’s comfort chair.
“Guess what?” she cried.
“What?!” Chinny’s excitement mounted, but she reined in when she remembered Adaiba’s proclivity for seeing invisible rainbows in pitch-dark clouds.
“Chi, GCE results are out!” Ama peered through the corridor doorway and grew anxious as soon as she learnt the reason behind their excitement. The weight of all the years of hard work Chinny slaved through suddenly grew bones and flesh before her eyes. Chinny asked Adaiba to give her a few minutes to take a bath. The day would not slide by without her knowing her fate and in minutes, they were off to the GCE secretariat. Almost right after the girls left, Ama followed. She glanced at her husband who sat, having his breakfast of bean cakes with corn pudding, and bade him goodbye. Life seemed to have settled back to normal since their talk with Chinny, even though the nagging issue of their meagre resources remained.
Ama still respected her husband, but as a result of the growing stickiness of their financial quicksand, resentment actively hovered and proved increasingly difficult to shoo away. But, rather than dwell on her emotions, she decided it was time to change her narrative. Her late father bequeathed five acres of land to her two brothers. His mind evolution regardless, he could not give his little girl any land. “The wolves of culture will eat her up”, he had confided in his wife. However, when one of Ama’s brothers disappeared into thin air just before their father’s burial and the other died before he turned twenty years old, ownership naturally slid to her. But, the land remained in dispute between her and her uncle for several years and so lay unused. He did not see why a female should handle such a vast inheritance when there were still men in the family.
Ama began growing cassava, peppers, vegetables, corn and the likes for home consumption and sales at her vegetable stall without further confrontation from her uncle after he witnessed the birth and steady growth of her son Dubem. But the huge expanse of land had been grossly underutilised for so long and Ama set out to correct that. Today will be a good day, she thought as she flagged down a tricycle. With Chinny off to make the confirmation that would change the course of her life, Ama rode away to make changes that promised to positively redefine hers.
*
The heap of yams and cassava were impressive. One look at the unripe plantains and Ama let out a satisfied grunt. The labourers harvested four jute bags of pumpkin leaves and a bag of habaneros. She wondered why the peppers were mostly green. I spotted a couple of red ones the last time I came here. One can never win with these labourers, she thought as she paid all five of them and laid out her spare wrapper on the heap of yams where she settled to wait for the truck that would carry her harvested produce to safety. Ama planned to use the barn she constructed in her father’s compound as a warehouse until she sold off all her produce. Finally, the truck arrived and when it was fully loaded, she began her journey to where she first called home.
As hard as the truck driver tried, he could not drive through the narrow gate of Ama’s late father’s compound. And to Ama’s utter surprise, he ordered his assistant to give him a hand and together, they deposited all the produce right in front of the gate. Her pleas for them to take the produce into the barn she had painstakingly constructed amounted to nothing. She told them that the rains would destroy everything, but they jeered at her, asking her to brace up for the labour since she wanted to do a man’s job. Ama experienced emotions that ranged from helplessness to panic and raving anger in quick succession. If only Dubem was still on holidays, she thought and dug deep for creativity as she watched the truck leave a cloud of road dust in its trail. At the back of the house, she rummaged for some wrappers and jute bags, which she tore open to create a bigger surface area. After she spread them over the heap of produce, Ama formed a ball with three wrappers and placed this on top of the jute-covered heap. She covered the entire pile with another wrapper. Next, she reached for a red scarf from her purse, folded it into a bow and masterfully placed it on top. After she placed a few odd-looking sticks around, Ama felt satisfied that most people would keep their curiosity in check, thinking that whatever lay under that heap was laced with ‘juju’. She began a quick search for a tricycle as she walked as fast as her legs could carry her. As she walked, Ama thought about how best to go about her survival plan. She wondered what Chinny thought about breeding day-old turkeys or chicks for business. She would build cages and buy her first batch of hatchlings with proceeds from the farm produce she planned to sell.
Occasionally, Ama’s head bumped into the tricycle’s roof as the thoughtless driver tried to outrun the encroaching hands of darkness. But that did not stop the happy tune she hummed
through the entire trip. Once at her stop, she got down, paid the driver and walked the short distance to the gate of her home. At the porch, Ama stopped midstride. She thought she heard someone sniffing at the side of the house. Taking cautious steps towards the source of the sound, Ama felt a chill when she saw who it was.
“Chinny, Nne, what is it? Why are you crying? What happened?” Ama rushed to her daughter’s side as the questions came pouring in a panic-laden voice. She crouched beside Chinny, who sat dejected on the bare ground, and gazed into her daughter’s eyes, bloodshot from crying. Ama’s heart started to beat faster as she waited for an answer.
Chinny did not steer her wide-eyed stare away from space as she said in a hoarse voice, “Nne’m, I have no result. It was cancelled… all… my… hard work… it is all gone.” The wind left Ama’s lungs as she knelt beside her daughter. She gathered her in her arms and together they wept hard and long. When would fate stop playing games with them? Could life not see that they already had too much to contend with? Where and how could she get the courage to sit for GCE again? These questions plagued Chinny’s mind as her tears gave in to the full force of the pain in her heart.
Dede came out for the fourth time to console them. “It is all right Chinny. Crying will solve nothing. Besides, I am optimistic that the results will still be released.” When Chinny and her mother did not act as though they heard a word he said, feeling like a cuckoo in the nest, he went back into the house. But a while later, the night insects convinced Ama and Chinny to break up their pity party and go indoors.
After the intriguing events of the day Ama prepared the dinner, which went back to the pot untouched. Gloom’s cold arms refused to let go even after Ama’s warm bath. So, she lay awake, long after Dede began to snore, thinking about her next line of action. She believed life held a colourful promise on the horizon for her daughter and began to shuffle her previous plans around. Three of her many plots of land would go on a yearly lease to the telecommunications companies expanding their network to Abotiti town. What is left of one acre would be reserved for her own use while the remaining four acres would be used for industrial agricultural production. With such an air-tight prospective income plan, Ama could make sure Chinny would re-sit the GCE, take the entrance examination to the university of her choice and make a proper life for herself – or so she thought.