AFRESH
Words creates world, some real many imaginary. There are places we strive to be, work tirelessly to create. Then our mistakes like a wind, spins them around and just as we try to reach, they disappear.
As a kid, I heard people say you do not make same mistake so you can’t give up. Over the years I have discovered we don’t even have the luxury of time to repeat a falter. A step in the wrong direction could cost a life time hole and our existence widen each breadth till we stumble right into it and our words, cease.
It’s been some time now but the picture so clear.
I could remember how much joy beamed from Dad’s eye. He hugged me like a kid who just made her first step. Well, it was truly a first step for me. I waited for five years before gaining admission into Auchi Polytechnic, Edo state. Mike who was three years younger than me, was already in his second year at UNIBEN. My parents were no doubt proud of their son then. Regardless of that, they received my admission news with happiness.
“Jane ! It’s almost 3” oh I had almost lost track of time. Thank God I had made good friends with Tope, the receptionist. Although she could be a handful, she was very helpful. Work was always tiring whenever she was on night duty.
You see, I work as a cleaner in this hotel. It’s not much of a pay but it helps me pay my tuition and some other expenses (you know girls stuff na). I work eight hours everyday of the week ,6am till 2pm and then I leave for my evening lectures which starts by 3pm.
“ Thanks lady T”. I was more comfortable using her nickname. With this, I rushed to the convenience to change. Grabbing my bag, I made way to the gate rather in a hurry. “ You look beautiful “ I heard Tope scream. I just smiled knowing how much she tries just to make me feel good. What! Don't tell me a 26 year old lady would look beautiful in a faded black top, on a rusty old Jean without a proper face powder . I rather was exhausted.
Getting a shuttle was no easy task. You know how it is with Mapoly students and shuttle drivers. There is always a rush. Judging from my appearance, I had nothing to loose if I struggled. So I joined in. Luckily, I got a seat by the side of the window.
“ Ko si change o”( there is no change) the driver repeated urging the passengers to hold their change. You should at least commend me. It’s barely a year I’ve been here and I’m getting used to Yoruba language. I’m sure I’d get a mastery of this language before the end of my HND programme.
The journey to Mapoly took about 10 minutes courtesy to the poor road . I kept my eyes on the watch hoping Mrs Feranmi the sociology lecturer wouldn’t be in class already. Everyone knows how strict she was and her adherence to punctuality ! You must be in class before lecture hour.
It was already 3:35 when I alighted.
I saw a number of students running towards my departmental building. No doubt, there were my course mates. I’m sure there was an ongoing test .So I joined in the race. Sadly, the doors were shut before I got there. I watched from the window along with other students who missed the test.
Within 5 minutes, they were done and Mrs Feranmi alongside our HOC held the test scripts. Most of the students who missed the test looked unserious. One girl dressed like a slot (slay Mama’s dem!) approached me. “ hey omo igbo why do u look sad? Forget test abeg! Who e help?” she commented. How many times do I have to tell this people . I’m an Edo girl not one Igbo lady? Once you don’t understand Yoruba , you’re automatically an Igbo person. I didn’t reply her. How much I missed AUCHI . No security would let you in while dressed like this. But these ones appear to be bigger than the school.
“Excuse me ma?” I tried stopping the lecturer. She starred at me for a while, then gestured me to speak on.
“Please I missed the test it wasn’t intentional....” I tried explaining but she ordered me to stop. “I think you should conserve your energy for the guy who made you come late. It’s so clear even from your hair” She said harshly even murmuring more words I believed to be curses as she left for her car.
'That hurts!' Me, with a guy? Well, she could be right. I work with male cleaners but we wash clothes, floors and the likes but not some body parts. I really wish I could scream at her pocket-sized thoughts.
“What a day! " I sighed and returned back to class. I went to my usual seat, the second chair on the fifth roll facing the podium. I love front seats. I could remember the two years I spent in Auchi poly acquiring my National Diploma. People called me book warm. I didn’t talk much except I needed clarifications in class. I wasn’t too intelligent (you know how long it took me to be in school), so paying attention was always the key. I graduated with a distinction and had high hopes for my HND. But you see, a lot happens.
“Your feet is bleeding Jane” . What’s with me today? To think I didn’t notice Esther was here. I was almost lost in my thoughts. Esther is one of my room mates and an HND2 student of Office Technology and Management. Since our departments were close, she always came to check on me. Most times, we go home together.
“Jane! Let’s go home your HOC said the next lecturer wouldn’t come” she continued this time using her tissue to clean the blood stain from my legs. “How did I even get that?” oh, while struggling for the bus. “ what a day!”.
Esther prepared her favourite meal, boiled yam and egg. I never liked those but I ate them anyways. I was too tired. I have a pile of assignment to complete tonight and clothes to wash before tomorrow. I could tell I’ve lost much weight.
“Your phone” Oh Esther handed my phone to me.It was Mum. She would surely scold me for not calling since. At least she ought to enjoy from my “allowee”( corpers monthly allowance) after spending money on me for five years.
“Hello Mum, I’m fine” those were my usual lines especially to reduce questions. But today’s discussion was way too lengthy. Too many technical questions.
You know Mum runs a primary school ever since our family moved to Lagos. So she pretty had a way with words. She talked a lot, complained about everyone (you know how women nag) especially Omo the baby of the house. He should be seven this month. I really do not understand why my mother had to give birth to another child after Mike . We were fine just two and almost at old age, comes Omo. Well, who can question God’s gift. But she need not place his responsibility on us.
For heavens sake, this woman should end the call but she wouldn’t. “ How is service dear? Please don’t join corpers that are engaging in this election process o. I don’t want my first child dead o” she cautioned . Her words almost got me crying but I assured her I wasn’t planning on participating in election . I have other plans probably I should be busy making chips for the weeks distribution . I must hustle.
Finally, the call ended but it got me all thinking. She has plans on visiting me during the schools vacation. Why on earth did I tell her I was posted to Ogun state. But what could I do? It was a better place to run from the terrors and make things right.
“Wow another caller” today is really....hmm.. just a day.
“Hello!!!" "Good evening " but the caller was silent. So I decided to allow whoever the 'fool ' was waste his airtime.
“Hello Uki “ the caller finally responded.
“No this couldn’t be him. Not now, not ever please " I said to myself, shaking but refusing to drop the phone.
Read Series 1, Episode 2