Two Days Later

Two days later

I slowly awaken, surrounded by the softness of my blanket and the comfort of my pillow. The warmth envelops me, shielding me from the morning chill.

I squint my eyes, letting out a big yawn, and slowly sit up, resting my back against the headboard.

The room is still dim, but I can make out the outlines of my furniture, and the faint light peeking through the curtains casts a warm glow.

I stretch my arm to the right side, my fingers drumming a gentle rhythm on the wooden table as I search for my phone.

The soft tapping echoes through the quiet morning, accompanied by the distant chirping of birds outside.

I find my phone, take it in my hands, and bring it closer to me, switching it on.

The screen lights up, casting a soft blue glow, and I adjust the brightness to ease my eyes.

My phone's dark wallpaper blends with the dim room, so I don't need to squint.

I glance at the time - 6:35 - and realize Nonso and Peter must be getting ready for school.

I scroll down, my thumb gliding smoothly over the screen, and turn on my mobile data.

Message notifications suddenly ring out, shattering the room's silence.

I furrow my brows at the excessive alerts, prompting me to unlock my phone and investigate.

"Ping, ping, ping, ping!"

WhatsApp messages flood my screen, and I quickly silence my phone, restoring the peaceful atmosphere and earning a smile from me.

I scroll to WhatsApp and tap it gently. As expected, I have no new messages except for the lively group chat.

Don't these people sleep?

The results aren't out yet, so I wonder why they're so worked up.

The group has exploded with over 500 messages, leaving me puzzled.

I click on the chat, curious about the commotion, and the messages appear.

The first message that catches my attention is "omo, who don check their own?" ["Gosh, who has checked their own?"]

My eyes widen in both fear and surprise, and I clutch my chest, my heart racing beneath my palm.

What are they talking about?

I continue reading, scrolling up to understand the context.

"The man talk say result just come out, so calmz everybody, nobody don check their own." ["The man said the results just came out, so stay calm everyone, nobody has checked their own."]

"People near Owerri don check their own walaih!" ["People near Owerri have already checked theirs, walaih!"]

Huh?

This can't be true. How can the results be out already?

I quickly exit the group chat and open the conversation with the IMSU official.

I don't care if he's online or busy; I start typing, ignoring the numerous mistakes.

I send the message: "Good morning, sir. Please, I beard the results are out. Is it true?"

The double white ticks indicate he has his mobile data on and is probably online.

I double-check the message, disregarding the minor typo (I wrote "beard" instead of "heard").

He's taking too long to respond, so I exit the chat.

As I'm about to return to the group chat, I notice someone has posted a status update, but I'll check that later; it's not a priority now.

I return to the group chat, where messages continue to flood in.

"Me, I don check mine o!" ["Me, I have checked my result already!"]

"Werey [Fool], oya tell us wetin you get." ["Fool, tell us what you scored."]

"266." [Score of 266]

"Oga sabi lie, ode." ["You're lying, fool."]

"As in." ["That's true."]

"Good morning you guys!" ["Good morning everyone!"]

"This one still dey greet good morning." ["This person is still greeting good morning."]

"Results never come out o!" ["The results haven't come out yet!"]

"What's going on?" ["What's happening?"]

"😂😂 This one dey live under rock since." ["This person has been living under a rock."]

"I swear 😂." [I swear.]

I let out a small chuckle at the message. This is one of the reasons I prefer being a lurker in a group.

I continue reading:

"Everybody fail, I swear 😭" ["Everybody failed, I swear."]

"Idiot, na you fail." ["Idiot, you're the one who failed."]

"Which kain talk be this na? Why you go talk say everybody fail?" ["What kind of statement is this? Why would you say everybody failed?"]

"Na true talk oh, I no dey lie. Person score 76/400😭🤣." ["It's true, I'm not lying. Someone scored 76 out of 400."]

"Imagine that person na you, you go just dey laugh yourself." ["Imagine if you were that person. You'd be laughing at yourself."]

"😂😂 But how come pesin score 76? They no read?" ["But how did someone score 76? Didn't dey study?"]

"As in 😂." ["That's true, haha."]

"😂"

"Omo, I'm afraid o!!" ["Oh my, I'm afraid!!"]

"No be only you o!" ["You're not the only one!"]

"Everybody, the results are out!!" ["Everyone, the results are out!!"]

"Wetin we dey talk dis whole time?" ["What have we been discussing all this time?"]

"Don't mind him, bobo dey read back of him phone." ["Disregard him, he has been reading the back of his phone."]

I burst out laughing, covering my mouth with my hand to muffle the sound.

But my amusement is short-lived, as the door swings open with a loud bang, making me flinch with a racing heart.

Why the dramatic entrance?

The bright light from the corridor pours in, casting a silhouette of one of my brothers, their short hem visible.

They take a step closer, and I squint to see who it is.

But instead of revealing themselves, they speak up.

"Come and wash the plates."

The husky voice is unmistakably Nonso's, still tainted with sleep.

I bang my hand on the bed in frustration, furrowing my brows.

"Can't you wash the plates yourself? Must I always do it?"

"Yes, you must. It's your job."

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. "We'll see who'll take over when I leave for university."

"Better come and wash the plates now, or I'll tell Daddy."

I fling my phone on the bed, feeling it bounce once before standing up and pointing a finger at Nonso.

"What is it? Haven't you done enough? The pain, the torment, the torture - aren't they enough? Can't I do whatever I choses?"

"What's gotten into you?"

I jump down from the bed, my warm feet hitting the cold tile with a painful thud.

"You should just take my life," I say, taking slow steps towards him.

"When you're done with your madness, come and wash the plates."

With that, Nonso scurries off, leaving me standing alone with clenched fists and a heaving chest.

With my furrowed brows still in place, I release my clenched fists and swing my arms, stomping my feet on the ground as I grumble. "Why can't you guys wash the plates yourselves? Must I always do it?"

Among all the household chores, washing plates is the one I loathe the most.

And since my sister left for university, I've been stuck with this task.

I scoff and stomp out of my room with a scowl, forgetting to close the door in my annoyance.

I turn back, grab the handle, and slam the door shut, making jump in fear with wide eyes.

Stupid door!

My scared expression quickly returns to a scowl, and I march towards the kitchen with a heavy tread, swinging my arms in annoyance.

As I enter the kitchen, the blinding brightness pierces my eyes, sending a sharp pain to my brain.

"Good morning," my mom's cheerful voice startles me, instinctively making me raise my shoulders in fear.

I force my eyes open, enduring the burning sensation until they finally adjust to the light.

The first thing I see is my mom, standing by the counter with her back to me, wearing a loose black sleeveless gown and her hair tied up in a bun.

Suddenly, I'm hit with the delightful aroma of jollof rice, which brings a gentle smile to my face.

It's as if my nose had been plugged until now, or maybe my annoyance had dulled my senses.

I step further into the kitchen, my eyes fixed on my mom until I'm beside her.

She gives me a quick glance, and I catch the simple smile on her lips.

"The aroma is amazing, I must say," I say, resting my arms on the white, tiled counter, feeling the chillness sinking into my skin.

"You should also learn how to cook. When you leave for university, I won't be there to serve me food," my mom says as she continues stiring the potful of the steaming jollof rice.

"But I can invite you over to cook for me," I say with a grin.

She shakes her head, chuckling, "You're not serious, are you?"

I let out a chuckle, covering my mouth with my hand, a habitual gesture.

"I'll make sure to stock up on your cooking before I leave for university," I say, and she turns to me with a smile.

"You're a very lazy girl. If you don't learn to cook, you'll grow even thinner than you look."

I playfully tap her bare shoulder. "Hey, I'm not thin, I'm fit and strong!"

I flex my spaghetti arms, showing off my "SpongeBob muscles."

We both chuckle, and I drop my arms.

"You're such a silly girl," she says, shaking her head with a smile.

"I'll learn, I'll learn. But for now, can I have a taste of the jollof rice?" I ask, my eyes fixed on the savory dish.

She laughs and hands me a spoon.

"Taste, but don't eat too much. You need to save some for your father and brothers."

I nod and scoop up a spoonful of the steaming rice.

But as I'm about to raise it up to my mouth, my mom exclaims, "I said just a little!"

I chuckle mischievously and raise the spoon to my mouth, blowing on it with puffed cheeks.

"You just don't listen, do you?" she says, shaking her head.

I take in the spoonful, savoring the flavors, and my taste buds explode with delight.

I chew thoughtfully, gazing at my mom, who's watching my reaction with a faint smile.

I drop the spoon on the counter and clear my throat, pausing for dramatic effect.

"I'll be the critic, and I must say it's..." I trail off, observing her expression.

Her lips part slightly, and her eyes widen with anticipation.

"It's really good!" I exclaim, and she breathes a sigh of relief, shaking her head.

"You're really a silly girl."

I chuckle, grabbing the spoon once more. "You should own your own restaurant, this is really good."

I reach for another scoop, but she playfully taps my hand.

"Ouch!"

I pretend to be hurt, rubbing my hand with a sulk.

"You don't want to give me food, abi?" ["Right?]

"Ta! Zuzupuoeba osiso, je sa efere jor!" ["Come on! Get out of here quick. Go and wash those plates!"]

Before I can protest, she gently pushes me away with her butt, making me laugh.