Chapter Twelve

At the home of Abinla, Ayibaemi took some boiled plantain to his mother, who sat up on her bed, playing a card. Boma was trying to be strong, so she felt that playing card games would help her. The glow of the lantern illuminated the room. With her thick dark hair, and the gentle illumination around her, the woman seemed replenished with hope.

 'Had to boil some plantain for you,' Ayibaemi said softly as he walked in and sat next to his mother, placing the bowl of plantain on a chair, he picked up a piece and began to feed his mother. 

Boma smiled. 'Ayibaemi, I am not handicapped. I can feed myself.' 

'No, I should feed you,' Ayibaemi insisted. 

 'What time is it?' Boma asked after a while.

 'Almost five.' 

'Five! Why isn't Abinla back?' Boma was worried.

 'They went for a jungle tour,' Ayibaemi said, sounding amused. 'You know how much your daughter wants to save the world? I'm sure she is saving the world right now,' he chuckled.

 Boma glanced at the door, wondering why Abinla wasn't back by now. If she was going to sell empty plastic bottles, she sold them mostly with Ayibaemi. She would have been aware that her children were going out for the reason of picking and selling plastic bottles. Boma was worried that she had to stop eating the plantain, and stepped out of the bed, touching the cold floor which sent a shiver down to her brain.

'Mum,' Ayibaemi walked up to help his mother back to the bed. 'She will be back. Abinla hasn't saved the world yet, so she won't die until she has done that.' Ayibaemi tried to convince his mother not to worry. 'If you hadn't sold your phone, you could have called her. You don't have a phone, Abinla doesn't have one. So, you have to wait for her to come back.' 

'I don't regret selling my phone to feed you and your sister...'

'Mum, I don't want to cry. I hate to tell our poverty story,' Ayibaemi said jokingly and Boma smiled, wiping up her eyes which were filling up with tears. 

 Just then, Abinla came in and ran to the bed, looking worried. 'Mum, are you okay?' She asked worriedly. She reached out her hand and touched her mother's forehead to feel her temperature. 'You're a little bit cold.' 

 'Mum, has been worried about you,' Ayibaemi replied in lieu of his mother. 

Boma stared at her daughter but didn't say anything. She was happy her daughter was back home, happy that her daughter had a kind heart. She reached out and caressed Abinla's face, her calloused hand suddenly became so smooth and refreshing to her tired face that Abinla couldn't help but let out a tear.

'Mum, I am sorry,' Abinla whispered. 'I gave some people the medicine that Ayibaemi and I bought for you this morning,' she paused. 'I should have shut my heart and brought the medicine to you...but those people were so sick that I couldn't watch them die. I gave them the one thousand naira that was in my purse as well...'

Boma placed a finger on Abinla's lips, stopping her from speaking more. 'I understand. You did the right thing.' 

Abinla cast a glance at Ayibaemi. 'Have you eaten already?' 

Ayibaemi nodded. 'I was able to sell a few plastic bottles. I used the money to buy us plantain. Yours is in the kitchen.' 

 Abinla smiled at her younger brother. Then, she opened the box. 'The nurse gave me some bamboo leaf tea. I will make some for you, mum.' Abinla ran out to prepare the tea for her mother. 

Within a few minutes, Abinla came back with the cup of bamboo tea. She put it in her mother's hand and said, 'Please, try and finish it. I added glucose into it.' 

Boma nodded with a smile. Ayibaemi didn't say anything. He sat on the bed, watching as his mother took a giant sip of the steaming hot cup of tea.

After Boma finished the cup of tea, she looked up at Abinla. 'I think I like it more than the tablets. I feel warm now.' 

 'Really?' Abinla felt her mother's temperature again, and she smiled when she found out that it was not as cold as before. She turned to Ayibaemi. 'You have to drink a cup as well. I will go change my school uniform. I look like a muddy child,' she jokingly said as she rose to her feet. 

Abinla walked to the small room she shared with her brother and gently, she changed into a worn out dress. After Abinla changed her dress, she went to her school bag and pulled out her drawing notebook. The blue notebook had started to lose its colour but was beautifully engraved Dream Paradise at the top of the notebook. On the front page of the notebook were the words of George Monbiot, the British writer known for his environmental and political activism; Nature is a tool we can use to repair our broken climate…these solutions could make a massive difference, but only if we leave fossil fuels in the ground as well. How possibly are we going to succeed in avoiding climate breakdown without nature? Was that really possible? Abinla had thought.

Settling herself on their old bamboo bed, she opened the second page of her notebook and began to look at her drawings, which had beautifully drawn flowers, lakes, water fountains, trees, animals living friendly with humans, the birds chirping sweetly, monkeys jumping from one tree branch to the other happily eating bananas. Then, suddenly, she remembered the bamboo tea, and thought of including the tree in her drawing. She believes that growing billions of trees across the world is the easiest way to tackle the climate crisis. 

Abinla smiled, and muttered, 'Dream Paradise.' 

Closing her eyes, she envisioned herself walking among lush trees, plucking colourful flowers and enjoying their scents, the bright moon lavishing the world with brilliant lights, the ripening fields and colourful forests, the fields filled with abundant harvests. She thought of the delightful fields of flowers growing generously here and there, beautiful land of sunshine, butterflies flitting from one flower to the other. She imagined herself staring at the upper reaches of happy trees and listening to the whistling of the wind, causing the leaves to dance, and the melody the singing birds had. 

Abinla couldn't stop to envision these wonderful things, the savouring clean cold air, the warmth of her hands, flower bud on her head, her white dress swaying gently in the wind, basket of fruits on her table, beautiful houses, beautiful pathways, and animals living happily with humans.

Beautiful day would arrive, Abinla thought with a sweet smile, and with it comes my Dream Paradise, everything would flourish. We all would be alive to welcome the new dawn.

For a few minutes, Abinla stared at her drawings, and felt that she had a destiny to fulfill, dreams she had already imagined, of a future that is filled with sunshine, happiness and laughter. However, for her to show the path to a clean, green, and just future, for her to bring the world into flourishing, she would have to work towards it. 

Just then, she remembered the assignment Tariebi gave to her classmates, about bringing a solution that would help her Dream Paradise come to actualisation, Abinla couldn't help but smile. Then, after she closed her notebook, she closed her eyes again. But this time, she fell asleep.