Sunday 16 July 2017

THE NEXT DAY.... {part2}




Okay, firstly apologies for posting this late soooo sorry, no excuse. but guess what there's going to be a next upload soon... see, i love you guys(smiley face).. not much editing but please  Enjoy..



..........and start our familiar morning call
    “nwa na ehi ura kunie!’—sleeping child wake!!!
To which he would answer “dika agu si ekunie kam si ekunie!”—I wake like the lion!
 Then run out from his mother’s hut going through his morning ritual similar to mine like spittle had been spat on the floor to time him, he didn’t have to avoid his father for he was already in school and was left alone when he wasn’t in school so he could rest, this of course evoked a lot of envy in me for during the school days I would be alone in the mornings and afternoons,with him telling me fun, wild stories on how a bully in his class called “tinko”-tin head, because he never seemed to understand what was taught in class like a tin that cannot be opened, which made him the oldest and biggest, nkem would always come back with stories on how tinko beat a classmate for fifty naira, or how he stole groundnuts from the school farm and was caught roasting it behind the bushes in the school compound.                                                                            I was filled with anger towards my  father for wanting me to become a farmer and my mother for doing nothing to help me. I remember making my displeasure known, I would always run off, and if I was at home I wouldn’t talk unless talked to, one day my father called me to his hut, as I entered he cleared his throat and looked at me “obiajuru” he started,                                                  I knew whatever he had to say was important for he called my full name when he had important things to tell me, he would call me obiajuru and say “beware who you call brother for the world is evil” it was also the voice and manner he used when he told me my grandfather, his father was dead.                                 “obiajuru” he called again drawing me from my inner musings   You have been a very lazy son in this family- he continued, you refuse to do your chores and when you do it’s done carelessly an-     I wished he would just hit the nail in the head, getting uncomfortable as he listed my past transgressions with a scary expression .
       “so I have decided to send you to school”
I looked up suddenly, instantly regretting losing focus, like he understood my confusion he repeated his statement
“ you will go to the white men’s school with your mother tomorrow and register, let’s hope you won’t be lazy in learnin-
I tuned him out again excitement causing tingles up my legs, to my stomach and heart as I imagined myself in brown khaki shorts with white shirt tucked in, finally I wouldn’t just stare from afar I would join my mates every morning, I was dizzy with joy as my father dismissed me bidding me good night. I ran to my mother’s hut, my face all smiles, I came into the hut to see my mother smiling at me, confirming that indeed I would be going to school, I flung my arms around her hugging her tightly with all my strength as she crouched down
 “ozugo – it’s okay she said wiping tears I didn’t know was falling down my face, “ga hie ura – go and sleep” she said squeezing me tightly before letting me go. As the silence that comes with people losing consciousness to the night pervaded the atmosphere all around, my heart thudded against my ribs disbelieving, I felt fear climb up my spine as I suddenly thought about my father changing his mind in the morning, I imagined him insisting farming was my best option, I thought about my mother changing her mind due to her great distrust of the white men, I fell into a restless sleep while hoping and praying neither my parents changed their minds.
The next day I was awake before the sun, my mind was a jittery mess I couldn’t lie still, so I left my sleeping mat and stepped out of the hut, my mind was a jittery mess, I didn’t know what to do, I ran to pick and grind my charcoal, not bothering to take my time and choose, I was so excited I mixed too much salt with my charcoal, making my teeth freeze and feel like it was being scraped with needles, I fetched a pail of water from the well rushing behind my mother’s hut, not bothering to make fire from the  wood to warm it, regretting that decision the moment i felt like a plucked hen as the very cold water touched my back. My mother woke up to see me dressed and waiting
       “if it’s farm work, by now you would be nowhere to be found’ she said with a knowing twinkle in her eyes .
 I watched my mother warm the pot of leftover soup impatiently, it seemed to me she was especially slow in everything she did that morning, looking back now I believe she was slow deliberately, because she was always filled with fun, laughter and amusement.
I remember whining and asking when she would be ready till she finally snapped at me saying
     “hapum obi agaghim anwuru gi n’oria Monday’ –‘leave me obi I won’t kill myself for you”.

After what seemed like ages she took my hand, and led me down the narrow path leading to the school house, I looked back to see my father outside his hut staring at me; till today I can’t truly describe how I felt, but I knew with certainty that going to school, to learn about the women and men with skin the color of pale milk, men and women with things I had never seen before was a pre-destined journey i had to embark on. My dreams were bigger than my head and body combined, I knew I wouldn’t go back even if ten plots of land were given me, though a major part of me wanted to slip my hands out from my mom’s to run and play in the village stream or hunt grasscutters….

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