Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 66
I found Emma already seated at
our veranda when I got home.
He grinned on sighting me. He
wore a nice yellow T-shirt on a
black jeans trouser with a face
cap. He really was looking good
on that sunny afternoon. I led
him inside the house and then
offered him a cold glass of water
which he requested. He wasted
no time as he began narrating
his experience with the ‘runs’
girl he went in with.
.
”Hmmm, Spain no be small tin o!
You for hear say your guy die on
top woman o!” he had begun.
”Eeeeh? Maka why na?” I asked
him in order to get him to
narrate in details.
”My guy, at first the babe be wan
form nonsense for me na but
after dat your babe talk to am
finish the babe just turn tiger for
my body o!” Emma narrated
while I placed my fist on my
cheek as I attentively listened to
him. Emma took a sip from the
cold glass of water. I guess that
was to help clear his throat for a
better narration.
”Mehn, we f--kêd sotay I no
come dey release anything again
and you know say the alcohol
wey I take no dey help matter.
When I bin think say we don
finish make I catch small sleep na
so the babe just climb on top me
o. Haaa, I just lay like person wey
get stroke as the babe dey ride
me like horse,” Emma continued
with his ordeal with the
prostitute last night.
”Hmmm, so hope say her body
make sense?” I asked in order to
attach imaginary pictorial slide to
the whole gist.
”Errm, na dat side the babe fall
hand sha. The brêast just be like
aboki man slippers and the tôtô
wide like NNPC oil well,” he
replied in a coloured face.
”Hahahahaha, choi, na im be say
you just go for swimming class
last night or maybe your tin dey
too small to fit the
circumference,” I teased and
then we both laughed. Emmas
story ended in a not so happy
ending way as he regretted
going for the girl but rather
would have gone for mine if he
had prior knowledge of the girls
physical attributes. He later
inquired about my own tale but
was disappointed in the one
word replies I gave him. We
spent the rest of the evening
walking aimlessly from Ngwa
Road to Ohanku Road, through
Ibadan street and then to Obohia
Road where we finally said
goodbyes.
.
Unfortunately, ESUT went on an
indefinite internal strike just as
the time for us to resume for the
2008/2009 academic session
drew near. It was supposed to
mark my ascension into the 200
level. It was a sad development
as it meant I will stay extra days,
weeks or even months at home
when my mates in other
universities would have gone far
ahead. When you also consider
the gossip from amebos who
will start making up theories as
to why I was yet to go back to
school even after other students
in the neighbourhood had. The
period was a very bitter one.
After staying about a month at
home hoping for the strike to be
called off I decided to resume
teaching in the secondary school
but this time as a Visiting Tutor
(part-time). My decision to go
part-time was greatly influenced
by Ifeoma’s presence in the
school. The decision to teach in
that school came also with its
temptations. First, I had to deal
with Anita’s attempts to get us to
start an affair. She had grown
braver and more daring. But I still
was unsure if she knew of my
relationship with her friend
Ifeoma. Secondly, I had to
balance professionalism with my
relationship. I was known to be a
disciplined and principled
teacher who hardly
compromised. There was this
day I had decided to punish all
the SS3 students after they
disobeyed the instruction of a
fellow teacher. She had reported
them to me as the discipline
master of the school. I had gone
into their class with three slim
canes (‘pankere’). I ordered them
to all kneel down which they
immediately obeyed. I had begun
dishing out three strokes to each
when I remembered my baby
was among the would-be
punished. When it got to her turn
I took a deep breathe, kept a
serious look and then gave her
her own portion of the
punishment. I even intentionally
did increase the strength of the
flogging so that any student with
prior knowledge of our
relationship will know how strict
I can be. I also gave Anita her
own dose but surprisingly she
bent down on her desk and
wept after the flogging. ‘Person
wey suppose cry sef no even cry
na dis one come dey form cry,’ I
thought in annoyance. I met with
Ifeoma some days later and
when I tried to explain the
reason behind my action she
stopped me as soon as she got
the idea of where I was heading
to. ”Don’t bother yourself daddy,
I understand why you did what
you did and I am not angry at
all,” she had happily admitted.
.
The strike lingered for about two
months and three weeks before
it was temporarily called off. We
were already in the second week
of November when it was called
off. I wasted no time in packing
up. On the eve of the day I was
supposed to leave for school I
instinctively went to my
grandmother who was seated
on the bed.
.
‘Nne, I want you to give me my
own blessings now. I no go fit
wait for that time when you go
don old well well. I want make
my own begin work for me from
now,” I had prayed to my
grandmother.
”Hmmm, na true you talk my
child. Oya kneel down make I
bless you,” she happily replied.
.
She went ahead to pour
blessings upon me. She said so
many things I am not permitted
to write here. She did all these
while holding my palms in a
‘receiver’ gesture while I
intermittently said ‘amens’ We
were in this position when my
mum walked in and then joined
in the prayer. It was not the
christian type of prayer even
though she crowned it all
with in the name of Jesus
Christ. It was more like a
traditional rendition or sayings
( aka ‘offor’ in Igbo) which is
always supported with ‘isee’ but
we christianized it in our case.
My mum asked what had caused
for this rare ritual after the
prayers and my grandmother
explained my mission to her. My
mum was happy with my actions
even though we all later joked
about it saying that I acted as if
that would be the last time I
would be seeing my
grandmother alive. Unfortunately,
that was my last night together
with my living grandmother. I
went back to school the next
morning where life resumed as
expected of an academic
environment.
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