The Coldness Of Reality

The normal 7pm news was usually not to all that it was usually about the government and what they have been doing.

'They are all liars' my dad screamed. ' These are the major issues we have in this country the and government. How will people who didn't go to school or even attend at all be the one's ruling us it's really unfair the way they use our lives to play in this country putting it in the hands of illiterate' 

One week ago they accused the governor of Ogun state for lying about his educational background cause he didn't go to school and lied he went, the university of Osun state doesn't have his record that he ever attended. Yesterday news had it that the convoys that the state government used was involved in an accident.

'And the thing weh Dey pain me pass be say them dey go scout free, they are not punished but given more money this country is a joke at this time in this 21st Century ' my mom added 

'Did something happen' Brenda Asked.

'Where you not listening or even paying attention at all' I replied.

'One man killed his wife,' Jerry said. 'He is in the police custody' Austin added. 'Brenda they are joking' joking I said.

'Illeterates and jokers...all of them…. And that's exactly the problem we have.'

Before the news could finished my dad got really mad and left the parlor to the bedroom and my mum followed behind.

Sleep refused to happen, I keep thinking on how everything is going to be with school and how I'll settle all my bill. My dad told me he would have a discussion with me tomorrow I hope it isn't something that will make me to wait till they have money I really hope it isn't it.

The misters of what my dad will tell me in the morning was going to torment me. There was no better way to get myself but to listen to what my dad has to say tomorrow.

The next morning I went to take my bath and came down to my dad having breakfast he told me to come join him, but there was no way I was having unripe plantain porridge for breakfast no no. I declined his offer and told him I'll eat something later. My dad started 

'My Ada I'm so happy to have heard the news of your admission it gives me so much joy that my first child is about to enter the university to study Chemical Engineering, I'm so happy you will soon be able to be an industrious person in school cause I already know your hardworking so you'll do a very good job.' 'Yes dad that's true,' I said. 'My Engineer, my Engineer I really love the way you put interest in your books but please the GCE your writing please pass all for me ok my child. I'll try my best with your mum to fund your fees I know it won't be easy but 

We will do it. 'You will also help us my daughter by studying hard and trying to see one or two things you can add up to help us with our income you know we have other children my Ada' my mum coming from the room added.

'Yes I will try my best' I replied my parents. I left them to the room to think, this people seriously wants me to work and earn and help myself in school I guess my dad couldn't say I entirely, but that's exactly what they mean my education is totally in my hands. What am going to do is what I don't know. We stayed in Aba, Abia State,Nigeria, although it wasn't far from Porthacourt but I couldn't go to school from here and I also wanted to go to Porthacourt Rivers State to get to know the environment before school began. Going to my mummy's restaurant used to be a lot of fun. She would usually pick us up from school when she still had her Mercedes Benz, and sometimes, we will go into the supermarket close to her shop to buy biscuit. Business had always been good l. But over the years customers became lesser and lesser. Now the people that come to eat are mostly laborers around the area and children who are just hungry after school.

My mum looked up from the kitchen and cut herself with the knife.

'Ahh, Ada!'

Surprise made her cut herself mistakenly. She locked the top of her hand she cut into her mouth and sucked out the blood.

'Mummy good afternoon and sorry about that.'

I sat on the restaurant chair, 'how have your day been?'

'it's been fine my baby girl,' she replied. 'It's been quite fine.' She resumed the cutting in the kitchen with a level of upmost concentration that showed that she knows I have something very important I wanted to talk to her about.

So I started 'mummy there is something I want to ask your opinion about.' she stopped pretending to concentrate on her work and gave me full attention to my face.

'I've been thinking,' I continued.

Yes, I had. Since my life is going to be very hard I have to come up with a divine solution to help myself, I cracked my brain till I came upon a mad idea.

'I've been thinking of moving away from home since I'm still going to go eventually to school maybe I should go around my school area and find what to do with myself and see if I could get a job around there to support myself in school'

'Ah,ah? But you can get a job here and be working till your school resume or is work not work find something around here and do na going to that place may not solve your problem and give you a job for now until maybe school resumes.'

'That is what I've been thinking about maybe I should just move to the city and see what life has to offer'

'But where exactly in Porthacourt and what job do you plan on doing?' I understood her question being her Ada and a girl child in this country Nigeria is quite dangerous but I have to take harsh decisions for my own good I can't keep depending o them it's not fair and also they have other kids that are younger than me.

'I'm thinking of maybe being a cleaner or secretary.'

'Are there no such jobs here?' 'Honestly mum there are more opportunities there and it will also help me to be able to know the city more.'

After all said and done Aba was one of the recognized cities in Nigeria but porthacourt has more wild range of opportunities compared to here.' My mum considered what I had to say. 'Again where are you planning to stay because you can't afford rent and your not even sure how long you would have to wait before you get a job and hostels have not been opened yet. The only person I can think of is Aunty Ezinne and she is not in porthacourt but in Asaba and Asaba has wild ranges of opportunities and jobes to offer.' I knew Aunty Ezinne would be so very pleased to have me in Asaba for however long I chose to stay. Aunty Ezinne was my mummy's Cousin and very close friend 

'What about staying with Aunty Bola' I asked. My mum laughed and looked at me as if I was trying to convince her that that L is for Satan. 'Mummy seriously I think Porthacourt is the best option. I'm sure I can get a job real quick.

My mummy's younger sister who stays in porthacourt and what is said is that she does high class runs(prostitution) with mostly politicians and men of influence. Aunty Bola was my grandfathers bastard child and was fathered by a Yoruba man in Lagos. Out of anger my mummy's entire family refused to give her that recognition and acknowledge her as family member. Aunty Bola moved in with us, over the years we had so many relatives come in and also go but Aunty Bola stay was a very memorable one infact. A few weeks after she moved in and started schooling near by secondary school, she drew me aside into the kitchen and whispered into my ears

'Ada,' she said 'I've noticed that you write good.'

I smiled at the compliment. She looked over my shoulder and lowered her voice more.

'Do you know how to write letters?'

'Yes.' I replied, knowing and feeling confident cause in the best English Student in class.

My Aunty nodded with satisfaction.

'Ada I need you to do me a favour. I want you to help me write a letter.' Such a task was very simple to me.

Later that night, after everyone has slept, she summoned me into her room. We sneaked into the kitchen, she turned the light and started whispering.

'Look,' she said, pulling out a scrunched up sheet from her purse and unfolded it fast fast, 'Copy this for me in your handwriting.' I recognized the handwriting of a person who hasn't been inside a school environment for a while. With some slight alterations, this could also be the handwriting of anyone jot different people that came to live with us from the village. I read the few sentences and non of it made any sense.

'Look at you she,' she jeered, planting a pen in my hands. 'Mind you the person i copied this from she's one of the best student in our class. She wrote it for her boyfriend.'

My face still didn't change.

'This thing is big girls matter. Don't worry one day when your grown enough you will understand my dear. Just copy it for me ok.'

 My dearest and sweetest, most lovable baby boy a.k.a touch money himself, I hope this letter finds you in a current star of sound and body and mind. My principal reason for writing this epistle is to gravitate your mind towards an issue that has really been eating my soul. Even as I write this right now, my adrenalin is ascending on the Richter side, my temperature is really rising, the mirror in my eyes only looks towards you, I was in a trance where I went out to sea and saw you surrounded by water. The speciation really took my breath away. I can't stop thinking about you. I want to rise in the night and see your face. I want to be the only lady you think about from time to time. My prayer is that you will open your heart and mind for me to enter I'll really love that my dear. The mark below is a kiss from the bottom of my heart.

I remain your love 

 Bola.

In the following days, she asked me to recopy the same letter to BASSEY, to Micheal, To chigozie, to Uchenna, to Tochi and to Emmanuel.

Late one day, we where in the parlor seeing a movie on Hollywood. Aunty Bola came back from school and handed a seal note from his head mistress to my mother. She tore the note and opened it.

'How can she say you don't have books?' She asked. 'Wasn't it just one month ago that I got you new notes?' She awaited his reply. 'What happened to all your exercise books?' She demanded. Aunty Bola looked at the floor and remained quiet. My dad stood up from his arm chair and walked to the bedroom. He never said a word especially when she was shouting at the helps.

'Bola I repeat what have you done to all the note books I got you?' She asked again while snatching his bag from his shoulder. Aunty Bola face was covered with shame.

She opened the bag and brought out her books. 5 loose papers fell out. She picked them all up and started reading them one after the other. With each passing moment my mothers mouth opened wider.

'What is this?' She looked up at Aunty Bola's face and then at the sheets.

Then she looked at me.

'Ada what is going on here?'

I was busy eating my gala. I stopped and gazed shockingly when I noticed what she was holding on her hand. My mum flanged the school bag and the sheets of paper on the table. The gala I was eating chocked in my throat I didn't believe my eyes at all. 

'Ada, when did you start writing love letter?! Tell me how will my daughter be writing love letter,at this your young age do you know what man is? What exactly is this?!

I understand her shock really. My mother was not so religious but she tries to teach us moral in the little way she can cause she wants us to be responsible and raised well in the society and she also taught us about sex education and told us how we should avoid boys. She always put her hands i my eyes whenever a man and woman were kidding on the television; she would ask me to go to my room whenever it feels they are about to have sex on the television; the one time I was talking about a cute boy in my class she told me to shut up and stop talking rubbish. I could imagine the rubbish thoughts going through my mothers head about me her daughter and how her daughter got such Inclination to write a full fledged love letter.

'Who taught you how to write love letter? Do you have a boyfriend that you write to to Ada!!!? Bola what are you doing to my daughter? Someone should say something what is this?'

With each question asked someone is collecting slap from everywhere. When neither me nor Aunty Bola agreed to say anything, my mum decided to return a verdict.

'Ada, go and kneel down first facing the wall and raise your two hands to the air before I look at you.' I rushed to start my punishment. 'Make sure that I don't see your two hands touching at all Ada!' She shouted after me.

I knelt down by the dining table and obeyed her instructions immediately. Then I heard her hand slap Aunty Bola's face.

'Yeeeee!'

'Oh you want to start teaching my daughter how to be very useless and an ashawo at this young age, ehhh?' I heard another slap.

'Ahhhh!'

'You want her to be as useless as you are.'

Slaps continued. Knowing my mother way of dealing with house helps when they misbehave by now she would have tore Aunty Bola's cloth and is seating on top her.

'Mama Ada Pleeeeease!'

'Just don't worry,' she said loosing her breath. 'When I'm done with you eeh you will have wound on your body that will always remind you to never in your life spoil my daughter for me rubbish.'

She must have pushed herself out of her grip and fled for her life. She chases Aunty Bola into the kitchen and then back out. I turned shortly and noticed she has stopped using her hands and now using broom. She chased her round the living room and cornered her between the television and my fathers chair. She continued until my dad came out of the bedroom.

'Clementina, it's alright,' he said. 'Don't stress yourself out cause of this nincompoop. Leave her alone.' She finally left him by the wall and went into the bedroom with my dad. Shortly I was called by my dad 'Ada,' he called 'come here'.

I immediately followed. I already know my mum has narrated the one she knows and has added "pepper and onions" and maybe it's time for them to tell me to go find another family to stay with. Inside the room my mother was crying like someone had died.

'How did you end up writing letters for Bola ?' My dad asked. I narrated my very minor story. With each new detail my dad becomes more furious and my mom's mouth opens wider. 'Oya turn your bum bum' my dad said as soon as I was finished with my story. As he was flogging I though of where I would sleep if they chase me away maybe in the Catholic Church shelter close to my mummy's shop.

My dad held my hands in front and my mum used the cane to flog me watin no good that day. I cried and cried and screamed. After 5 strokes that left me unable to seat I was told not to speak with Aunty Bola whenever my parents were not around. After all this years my dad still sees Aunty Bola as a very bad person and a pot of shit. So I could understand my mother's resistance to broach this subject with my dad still I persisted and insinuated.

'Just talk to him about it and see what he will have to say.'

'Ok' she replied. 'I can't promise it will be today tho. I'll have to look through and process when to tell him.' 'Yes,' I light hissed. And stood up to go home.