Being a man is not easy. Being a made man is even harder. It requires sacrifice, and it's not an easy decision as to what you have to sacrifice.
Most of my course mates in school regarded me as an “ajebo” (a name given to pampered children from middle class). I didn't know why exactly, but I think it was due to the way I carried myself. Even when as a child, our neighbors called us (I have two other siblings) ajebo children. We weren't in the middle class, my dad was a contract staff in Coca Cola but he made sure that we weren't like other children in the neighborhood. We were quite the envy, even amongst my close relations. Everyone thought my father had it all, afterall how is he able to give us an enviable life and a good education —we attended private school.
I had thought that life was going to remain like that for us, even though my parents were separated, until we were scattered in different directions. My elder brother went to my Aunt's. My elder sister went to stay with my Grandma in the village. I stayed with my dad for a while before joining my brother at my Aunt's in Calabar. There was when I realized that there's no rose without thorns.
At my Aunt's, life was pretty different. Her husband owned a couple of businesses including a restaurant which was the main source of income. My aunt was a trader. She sold foodstuffs at a distant market. Life was quite rosy, as I saw it, but my cousins were not going to school and I wondered why.
One day, I asked Akefon. She was the last born of my aunt, and closest to me.
“Why aren't your elderly ones going to school? Senior Uweh, Uddy, Abi and Imah, none of them.”
“Bàá does not allow it.” Akefon answered, mindlessly.
“But you are in school. He allows you…”
*“That's because Màá forced him to let me.”
“So why can't she force him to let others too?” I pestered.
“Da stop asking me questions. I don't know” Akefon dismissed me. She felt uncomfortable with my questions.
Uweh was the eldest son (but not the eldest child), an ambitious young man who always dared to step out of the box. I heard he once got admission into the university but couldn't go further. Uddy was the second son. He took after his mother’s loyalty. He was the manager of their father's restaurant. Abi and Imah were like twins, always doing things together but Imah was the older one. They dropped out of secondary school to work in the restaurant. They were the cooks. Abi had overheard my questions to Akefon and kept it to heart.
One morning, as we (I, my brother and Akefon) were getting prepared for school, Abi and Imah were in the kitchen preparing the fish their father had brought from the fish market. He didn't take it to the restaurant because he wanted it prepared at home.
Abi wasn't looking cheerful that morning and it was obvious because she was acting sluggish and reluctant which made her father angry.
“Abi, insido? (What is the matter?)”
“Nothing.” Abi, retorted.
“Imaa, why are you frowning your face?”
“I want to go to school.” Abi said, and everyone was shocked.
“What did you say?” Baá asked, getting up from where he was sitting. “Repeat what you said again?”
“I want to go to school,” Abi said, her voice shaking.
“You want to go to school, and do what? Eh?” Baá asked Abi, and almost immediately turned to Imah. “Imah, do you also want to go to school?”
Imah didn't say a word. She didn't know whether it was a question or a threat.
“Listen, all of you. I didn't go to school but I am able to set up this restaurant that feeds all you” Baá continued, sounding arrogant. “Look at how healthy you all look. Do you lack anything..?”
“They lack education.” My aunt intercepted her husband. “Yes, they lack education. Why won't you let them continue their education? Time will not wait for them, ette.”
“And leave the restaurant for who?” Baá snapped at his wife. “So you want me to hire people when I have children?”
“What are you afraid of, ette?” My aunt asked suspiciously. “Are you saying that you rather want your children to work, at these young ages, than go to school?”
“If you want them to go to school, then you will pay their fees…”
“Or they will pay for themselves." I didn't know where I got the audacity to intercept Baá.
“What did you say?” Baá was surprised that I spoke.
“They can go to school and still be working in the restaurant..." I was about to say more when my aunt pulled my hand and dragged both me and Akefon into the house, and outside to the front yard.
“You don't open your mouth when adults are talking. Now run off to school!” My aunt said and shushed us away.
source
When we returned from school, I was told what transpired thereafter. There had been a heated argument between my aunt and her which resulted in Abi sustaining a deep cut on her right leg close to her knee. She had been bold enough to stand up to her father about going to school and fell on a pile of firewood as she tried to dodge the plastic wash hand basin he flung at her. As bad as it all went, Baá later agreed to let Abi and Imah complete their secondary education but Uddy would have to forgo his.
Everyone was happy, at least for Abi and Imah, but it took thorns to have that rose.
Thank you for reading.
This is my entry for the creative nonfiction prompt #106
(Photos 1 and 2 are generated with Meta Ai)
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STOPObrigado por promover a comunidade Hive-BR em suas postagens.
Vamos seguir fortalecendo a Hive
wow, me tocó el corazón, me siento un poco reflejado en el hombre que dice que la escuela no les dará algo, pero que bien que todo saliera bien al final, se necesitan agallas para eso
obrigado
Parents can be really stubborn when it comes to their children's decesions sometimes. I agreed with the point education and work can go hand in hand for everyone's growth.
Thank you.