Waves Aligning

by Adaora O

  5

  The burp following the end of Mr Oliseh’s dinner of plantain pottage indicated deep satisfaction. “Thank you for this tasty meal, my son. With someone like you, who cares for a wife?”

  Dubem gave his ever-scarce grin to his host. “We aim to please,” he responded and took a dramatic bow. Seeing Dubem with Mr Oliseh would cause anyone to wonder why the words ‘aloof and dull’ were ever associated with him. In Mr Oliseh’s company, Dubem bloomed like the sunflower at the first sign of the rains. It did not matter what anyone thought about Mr Oliseh, Dubem saw in him the definition of nobility and kindness, and remained indebted to the circumstances that brought them together.

  Once done with the dishes, Dubem took a bath to rid himself of the sweat and grit which normally rode with the month of February. He made to have an early night when Mr Oliseh asked him to sit for a chat. Anyone would have thought a foul smell hung in the air with Dubem’s grimace. He had an idea of the crux of the chat – the broken record of ‘coming clean with his folks’. He dutifully sat down to listen to another one of Mr Oliseh’s long lectures. He owed his benefactor that much.

  So much had happened since Dubem’s arrival. As the long-standing chief security officer of DLSS, the school allowed Oliseh to cultivate a huge expanse of land for an indefinite period. This, he used for minor domestic cropping in addition to the mini catfish farm he ran behind his house. On retirement, Oliseh planned on expanding the fish farm, which for now featured only two big drums made of reinforced plastic. He used these for fish farming at his leisure. His clientele included his ever-willing-to-buy neighbours. And those not sold, he used to prepare his favourite ‘white soup’. This was why coming up with the funds for Dubem’s school fees did not pose much of a burden.

  Ready with rules, boundaries, consequences and a massive storeroom for disappointments and shortfalls, Oliseh equipped himself for the project before him upon Dubem’s arrival. His understanding being that Dubem was one who, for reasons unknown, did not have any will to study. The shock Oliseh experienced when he learnt the truth can best be described as a high-powered jolt.

  The first surprise came when Mrs Adun, Dubem’s class teacher, who already knew about Dubem’s ‘peculiar case’, informed Oliseh that there was either a mistake in Dubem’s assessment or that the young man had experienced a monumental miracle. She came to this conclusion because besides being top in his class, Dubem exhibited profound knowledge of concepts in subjects taught two classes ahead of his. According to the class teacher, the young lad did not care much for needless chatter but gave lengthy and robust contributions whenever called forth to do so. When Mrs Adun mentioned that on rare occasions when Dubem decided to ask questions, her colleagues complained of being mentally stretched and strained, Oliseh let out a mischievous chuckle. He could almost bet his life’s savings that Mrs Adun did not speak for just her colleagues. Following this revelation, Oliseh closed his book of rules and opened his eyes to observe the mystery called Dubem Ona.

  Over the weeks following Mrs Adun’s revelation, Oliseh found out that each time he pretended to have retired for the day, the daily papers which he often placed on the television stand took a walk a few minutes before the lights in Dubem’s room came back on. They magically reappeared very early the following morning. Oliseh often smiled when he recalled with amusement the vigorous and hurried shake of Dubem’s head each time he asked if he never received homework from school. The last straw for Oliseh was at the end of the school’s first term, when he stared in complete bewilderment at Dubem’s ridiculous attempt at altering his report card. The crooked number ‘3’ that was squeezed in front of the number ‘1’ stuck out like a sore thumb. More laughable were the alterations on his subject and class average scores. Needless to say, Mr Oliseh paid Mrs Adun a visit the following day for a printout of Dubem’s original result which, like he suspected, reflected an outstanding performance. He came out top in his class with an average score of 98.6 per cent.

  After the second term, Dubem’s teacher sent a proposal to the school’s trust council for Dubem to be promoted to class three rather than class two after the third term. The council unanimously agreed with her that it would be a waste of time to promote him to class two, so they promised that her proposal would be given due consideration.

  Only after Oliseh’s coercion, cajoling, imploring and threats to send him back to his parents did Dubem confess to the age-long charade he thought would get his father to send his sister back to school. With liquid pain in his eyes, he took Mr Oliseh through the deep and lengthy journey of what birthed his web of lies. At almost the age of three, Dubem longed for a sister and sent forth his childlike prayers to whoever sent down children to please send them a girl. When Chinny came along the following year, Dubem almost popped with excitement. But as the months gave way to years, his sadness and confusion knew no end when he perceived that his little sister lived on the wrong side of ‘favour-ville’. Almost everything the little girl did attracted a reprimand. Days gave way to weeks, months and years while Dubem looked on helplessly as his bright little treasure dimmed slowly but surely.

  His answer, or the lack of it, when Oliseh asked Dubem what he would do if he was withdrawn from school did nothing to diminish his amazement at such dogged devotion. Being passed over in life due to factors entirely out of one’s control was an experience Oliseh identified with. However, following his validation of Dubem’s stance, he explained that men often had a knotty time articulating their frustrations – especially to the ones they loved the most. Oliseh asked him to rethink his state of mind and resulting actions.

  After that expository chat with Dubem, Oliseh never bothered to go through the results Dubem handed him. He simply waited for the original copy, which Mrs Adun graciously made available to him without fail.

  One day, Oliseh saw Dubem welding some metal behind the house and asked him what this was for. Dubem gave a nervous laugh and in an unsure, rushed voice explained, “It is a surprise sir, but please I will come to you next week for a loan of 6,000 Naira. I promise to pay you back to the last Naira as soon as I can. It is important and… it is for this construction. I know it may appear—” Oliseh cut in and calling Dubem a rascal, joked about him asking for the greater percentage of his monthly salary. Dubem’s initial optimism nose-dived but that did not deter him.

  The following week, he approached Mr Oliseh with his request for a loan and could not keep his heart from thumping with excitement when his host handed him the exact amount he asked for. In truth, Oliseh kept a rather stern exterior, but was pure jelly within and seldom refused anyone help. Dubem observed this part of him and jumped at it because a few weeks after receiving the loan, he asked Oliseh if he could use a part of his land that lay fallow for some cropping. Again, Oliseh said yes but was not prepared for what followed.

  Dubem approached a settlement of fishers and arranged for them to become his farm hands. In payment for their labour, he would let them crop for their personal use, two out of the ten plots of land which Mr Oliseh gave him for his temporary use.

  A rather confused Oliseh listened with rapt attention as the school’s principal expressed his delight at his decision to take his love for agriculture a mark higher. He also told him to deal carefully with the settlers, as they have been known to exhibit violent tendencies when they feel short-changed. Oliseh masked his confusion with his vigorous nods and exaggerated smiles, having a hunch that the answer to the puzzle lay with the young lad who lived in his house. The principal went on his way but not before he made Oliseh vow that his new passion would not interfere with the school’s top priority – to protect the students and staff of DLSS. Oliseh hurried home. He needed to have a word with Dubem concerning his far from conservative approach to actualising his dreams.

  Unable to resist the delicious wafts floating from his Sunday dinner any longer, Oliseh tore his eyes away from the football match and went for his meal. He stared at what
sat on his plate. “What is this?” he asked Dubem, whose eyes were glued to the television. “What did you do to the fresh fish?” Oliseh asked again.

  “I dried it… with the kiln… the one I constructed. I used the loan you gave me to buy the… the remaining parts… sir,” Dubem stuttered.

  “The remaining parts?” Oliseh echoed under his breath as he took his first mouthful.

  Later that night, Dubem took the liberty of explaining himself to his host, now turned friend. He had kept the individual parts of the kiln out of sight because he could not bet on the success of his contraption. He coupled the parts yesterday and to his delight, it worked. He decided to honour Oliseh with the first product of his construction. He hoped to expand the catfish production. He would buy six more drums, a hand-sealing machine, and print some labels. If the profits allowed it, he would construct more kilns and may even end up employing more hands. “I am sorry sir, if that was presumptuous of me,” Dubem began to apologise, but Oliseh stopped him.

  “No, no. Far from it, Dubem. You have been a box of pleasant surprises since you set foot in my house. I see in you the true meaning of determination, resourcefulness, resilience and dog-like loyalty. You… you illuminate unexplored possibilities. Please my son, know that whatever you do, I am one hundred and twenty per cent behind you. But you must promise me that nothing will affect your studies – remember, it is number one on your list.” Dubem gave Oliseh his word.

  Dubem planned to approach market channels for the sale of the plantains, cucumbers and watermelons he grew. Certain that adding his kiln-dried catfish innovation to the table held the promise of a bright future for his family, Dubem could never thank Mr Oliseh enough for the springboard he afforded him. With his eyes closing in to welcome slumber, Dubem’s roadmap to success unrolled before him, brightly marked with rainbows and gayly coloured mountain peaks and hills. In the other room, Oliseh wept for joy at his second chance at life. “Blessings they say come in different packages,” he mused. Since his life took the unpleasant tangent it did, Oliseh prayed and strove to get back on course. With each passing day, his chance meeting with his friend Dede seemed more orchestrated than coincidental but whatever the case, Oliseh decided he was going to enjoy every bit of the opportunity presented to him in Dubem. He turned off the light to make room for the future in the horizon of his mind’s eye.

  *

  Ama opened the door to none other than Mr Peters and in a manner far from her character, gave a loud hiss and slammed the door in his face. She headed back to the kitchen to carry on with her cooking and collided head-long with Chinny.

  “Who came Nne’m?”

  “Nobody, my child. Nobody.”

  Chinny continued to the sitting room but Ama changed her mind and following her daughter said, “You know what? It is not nobody. It is that slimy excuse of a man who had the guts to show his decayed face here. A vulture with two legs and arms, looking for helpless and defenceless people to prey on.” A scowl distorted Ama’s tear-stained face as she shook with rage. Chinny shot a glance at the door, half expecting the object of her mother’s expletives to walk back into the house. Only then did Chinny realise the agony and trauma her parents would have suffered, knowing that nothing but their shortcomings as parents could have given the likes of Mr Peters the impudence to approach them in the first place. Following this epiphany, every residual disappointment and disdain she held against her parents trickled away, never to return.

  *

  The birds’ tweets announced morning’s arrival to Ama. She sat up in bed and became momentarily puzzled. For twenty-two years, she had woken up to her husband’s snores. Ama tied her wrapper over her chest and walked half asleep to the sitting room in search of Dede. The sight of her husband on the dining table, writing vigorously on a sheet of paper came as a surprise to Ama. “Good morning Dee,” she greeted him, looking at the litter of crumpled paper on the table and floor. Dede responded without as much as a glance her way as he continued scribbling. But he noticed the endearment in her voice. She called him ‘Dee’ only when hit by a surge of affection. The issues of life had made those moments far and few between. Yawning loudly, Ama drew a chair to sit beside her husband and asked, “What are you writing so early in the morning?” Dede drew a straight line across his words, took a fresh sheet and made to resume his writing when Ama placed her hand lightly on his.

  “What is going on Dee? Talk to me,” she insisted.

  “Ama,” he sighed and began, “I am done failing everyone under my watch. For reasons out of my control, I could not go on with school, but I used to be bright in my days. So, this is a list of our long-term goals, short-term goals and the resources I have to make them happen.” He held up a sheet of paper which had a list of items like: Begin to pay off the house loan; pay Kika back his money; give my two children an education; pay John back his money; set Ama up in business; pay Madam Jacinta back her money; provide a weekly allowance for my home’s upkeep; buy a car, a tricycle or a motorbike. On a second piece of paper were the items: God; my good head; my strong will and providence.

  Ama stared at her husband as though seeing him for the first time and after a while said, “So you owe Madam Jacinta too? No wonder she always looks at me in that funny way.” Dede hung his head as he drifted far away in thought, as was now his custom.

  A bang on the kitchen door rattled through the silent house and Ama knew her daughter had returned from delivering her famous beef cubes to Thompson Supermarket. She often wondered if Chinny made any profit from her business since although they were fried crisp-dry to ensure a long shelf life, the beef cuts still came in impressive chunks. Never mind the plethora of spices she lavished on the meat while marinating. Humming a happy tune, Ama turned the lock on the door to let Chinny in and went about preparing breakfast – pap and moimoi from the night before.

  *

  Today promised to be a very good Wednesday indeed. Three rapidly expanding telecommunications outfits each wanted her property on a lease arrangement for their masts and were due to pick up the documents she had filled out. In the unlikely existence of some policy that red-flagged leasing from a prospect who already had a contract with competition, Ama arranged a meeting with the Breeze-links representative for 12:15 pm, while those for Starlite Mobile and Afrocomms would meet with her at 12:50 pm and 1:25 pm respectively that same afternoon. Exploring the possibility of becoming one of their major suppliers, Ama also fixed a meeting with the production manager at the yam flour processing factory in Koki town, situated two towns away, west of Abotiti. If she succeeded, it would be a profitable outlet for the yam plantation she had recently created on her huge expanse of land.

  Ama had a plan. Once she secured a retainership with the yam flour processing factory, she would ask Dede to approach a bank for a loan using the plantation as collateral and, with any luck, they would be able to pay off the mortgage on the house. Hopefully, the proceeds from the plantation and other extra incomes like the land lease would fund the loan. Her brokenness over the loss of her family had finally mended. Everything would be okay.

  Never one to pile up used dishes and pots, after breakfast, Ama washed up and got ready for the day. On her way out, Dede asked his wife, “Are you going to the farm?” Ama shook her head like one reprimanding an errant child.

  “Ranch, Dede, ranch. They call it a ranch these days.” Amused, Dede told his wife that ranches characteristically comprised plants, animals and a place to lodge. “Well, who is to say that one day, we would not have animals, processing sheds and a big lodge there? Exercise some faith oh good husband of mine,” Ama said, brushing off Dede’s call for her to wait so they could leave the house together. She told him she did not want to miss the early morning vegetable buyers. The back of Dede’s ears hurt from grinning as he put on his shoes. Ama’s decision to crop for commercial purposes on her land filled Dede with immense joy. For so long, the subject of the land had been a so
re one as Ama could not get over the loss of her family. Other than that, he would have long made a defining move or at least offered a few life-changing suggestions. Walking out of the house, Dede pondered on his wife’s high spirits.

  “Could it be the list I shared with her? But it did not state any financial injection, so why would it cause so much hope?” Dede wondered aloud. But Ama’s apparent belief in him sparked even more determination. His stance resembled a lion’s as he strode along, resolving to reclaim and offer the life he once promised his family.

  Ama stopped a few feet away to hand the documents to Mr Clarke. She begged him to be discreet about her dealings with all three companies as she was not clear on their organisational policies. With any luck, by the time they realised it, the contract would be long sealed. “But wait a minute. What is even wrong with me dealing with competitors of the same market? I do not work for them and there is no conflict of interest. Or is there?” she reasoned with Mr Clarke who in response, let out a dry laugh. “I will call the representatives and give them your number so that they do not go to my house at all,” she said. When Ama also begged him to keep her husband out of her dealings with the companies, Mr Clarke’s eyes twinkled, but dimmed almost as soon as she explained that she meant to throw it on him as a surprise once the deal matured.