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It was a new beginning for my siblings, who both got admitted to the University of Lagos.
Mother waited for two more years to see if her brother would remember and fulfill his promises to her children. Weeks became months, and months turned years. Justina, at the time of her admission to the university, was twenty, while Jordan was seventeen.
They had both secured admission after writing the Joint Admission Matriculation Board Examination. They had made the cut-off mark and secured a spot in their various disciplines.
Justina made the cut-off mark for medicine, while Jordan qualified for law.
It was a big feat for my family.
Not only was my mother proud of her children’s performances, she anticipated the day people would address her properly as ‘Mama doctor and Mama lawyer,’
“Joan, what is it that you would like to be?” My mother asked for the first time.
“What else than a writer?” I answered.
“You must be sick or something,” the mother said dismissively as she packed Justina’s clothes into her bag.
“Justina, just look at you!” She said it with pride.
“What about me?” Jordan asked with a look of approval.
“You’re all my pride, dear children,” she answered Jordan with her gaze on the three children.
Mother hired a cab driver who took the family down to Yaba, where the university was.
As we passed through the third mainland bridge, reflections of my mother’s struggle waved through my mind.
By the time we got to Adekunle Bridge, I was already asleep.
“Joan,” my mother called as we arrived at the school’s hostel.
I awoke to the largest compound I had seen in my life. The academic environment was boisterous.
Students traverse the school’s hostel at every opportunity.
“Here comes one of you,” the mother announced to no one but herself.
We saw that Justina settled in properly before heading to Jordan’s hostel. Since Jordan was a male, his mother allowed him to settle by himself.
“Come home as often as you can,” she said to each of them before departing.
The cab driver in his early fifties was very patient, as his mother took time to ensure her children settled in properly before leaving.
“I’ll keep praying for you,” she hurried back to tell Jordan, who was already tired of her presence on campus.
“They are wonderful children,” the cab driver uttered as we drove back to Okesuna.
There was no response.
“These children are what every parent prays for,” he uttered again.
Realizing he sought attention that his mother wasn’t ready to give, she replied as aptly as she could.
“You’ve said it all,” came her reply.
“Their father must be proud of them,” he added.
If someone had warned the cab driver ahead, perhaps he would have saved himself from being embarrassed.
“Is this how proud you men feel after abandoning your children for thirteen years?” she asked with irritation.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was the case,” the cab man apologised.
“You better be,” mother replied
We arrived at Okesuna and the cab man apologised again, asking mother to forget about the payment.
Mother refused asking him to receive payment for his service.
They spent some considerable minutes outside the house explaining why and why not he deserved the payment.
I realized it was an adult issue, so I left them outside while I went inside to freshen up.
Everything happens for a reason! This sure did as it heralded the love story of my mother.
The following weekend the cab driver came to my mother’s shop pretty early. He had arrived before we converted the shop to a bar for the night sales.
My mother who would normally spend time monitoring Tima’s reception towards the customers was engulfed in a series of discussion and rows of laughter with the cab driver.
They seemed like lost friends who had recently gotten back together.
“He’s from my place,” mother mentioned to a nonchalant customer.
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The ambience that day was to admire. I wondered if that was the way things were between my father and mother before leaving her for another woman.
It turned out the cab driver was a lecturer at the polytechnic at Yaba. He runs his cab for the weekends to keep himself busy, also as an additional source of income.
He had been married once but lost his wife to a serious illness with no kids.
He wasn’t going to rush mother into making a hasty decision into marrying him, but would be willing to as soon as she was.
The months to accompany surely changed my mother’s life.
The lecturer did a private marriage ceremony with my mother at Grandma’s house. Even though the family had issues to iron out they all came and supported mother the way they ought to.
A year later mother welcomed a son who was named Ibitayo.
It was a safe and joyful delivery!
We moved from Okesuna to Falomo, Ikoyi with Ibitayo.
I got into the senior secondary school after writing the Junior school certificate Examination.
My uniform changed as did my class. My hair was no longer shaved as it used to be. I had some pimples on my cheek with the dots on my chest appearing to be bigger than they were the previous class.
By this time I was thirteen plus, and in few months I celebrated another birthday.
It was a new experience for me.
In our previous classes we had used different notes for various subjects. It wasn’t so in the senior class as some could use a single note for four different subjects. Students weren’t as dedicated in the senior class as they did in the junior class.
I sometimes copied notes for my classmates in exchange for money. Once students saw how fast I was in copying notes, others engaged me in the same vein and we all got satisfied.
February 14th was approaching and each class made preparations for the exchange of gifts. Those who already had a boyfriend or girlfriend in the school knew they were going to receive gifts from two parties.
“Hi Joan,” Peter called from where he sat.
Peter and I sat on the same row but different seats. His seat was two seats from mine.
“I’d like to have a little chat during break time,” he said with pleas in his eyes.
“Okay,” I answered.
Ever since Peter engaged in a fight with his older brother in the senior class three years ago, our interaction suffered. I avoided him at every given opportunity.
We never got assigned to the same class since JSS1, but I was surprised to see us back in the same class again.
Anxious about what Peter wanted to talk about, I brought out a plain sheet of paper, wrote down a few questions, and passed them to him.
Peter got the paper and folded it into his breast pocket. He later sent back a piece of paper. On it was written, ‘we’ll talk later.’
My eyes were still on him until the mathematics teacher called my attention.
“Joan, where’s your log table?” he asked.
“On my desk,” I answered.
“Use it to answer the question on the board,” he requested.
Immediately after I submitted my answer to him, the bell rang, and my anxiety returned.
Before we stood up to pray, I beckoned on Peter.
“I’m waiting,” I reminded him.
He requested that we step out to the food vendors together after prayers.
We did walk together, perhaps the longest we’ve since had.
“I like you,” he said shyly.
I thought the word came out wrong and waited for him to say it again.
“I like you a whole lot. I’d like you to be my Valentine,” he said boldly.
The latter statement confirmed what Peter knew.
Peter wasn’t the type to cower, not even before a girl he liked.
Peter was as bold as a fierce lion, who knew no animal could challenge him in the jungle.
His confidence had always been based on the fact that his brother graduated as one of the most notorious students.
Also, he had his own clique in SS3, who were dreaded by the teachers.
“Why me?” I asked, puzzled.
“You’re the definition of beauty with brains,” he said.
A lazy man must certainly have the most outlandish appetite, I wondered.
“I see,” I replied calmly.
“Well, I do not know what you’re seeing. All you’ve got to see here is love,” he replied.
“Take your time to reply to me, but remember, Val is around the corner.”
Peter paid for the food I bought and requested that I be given a bottle of drink to digest my food.
Since I left primary school, I hadn’t been close to any friends like I was with Christiana and Job. I tried to hold conversations with classmates, but none complimented my reasoning as they both did.
However, there was a female classmate whose name was Taiwo. She was seen by teachers as the most reserved in the class. She talked less, laughed moderately, and did everything with etiquette.
I realized she could be spoken to and relied on.
After the break was over, I went to where Taiwo was seated with her seat partner, who was a friend of Peter.
“Taiwo, could we please walk down to the bus stop after the school hour?”
“Yes,” she answered like someone who anticipated my question before I even asked.
“Okay, see you then.”
The rest of the day seemed so long that I barely concentrated on what the teachers who came after each period had to say.
I relied on the timekeeper’s bell to tell me what the time was and how long we had to remain in the classroom.
The bell finally rang.
Taiwo didn’t wait for me to remind her of our walk, as she had already taken a stand beside my seat.
“Shall we?” She asked excitedly
“Yes,”
“Bye Joan,” Peter waved as I stepped out with Taiwo.
The first few steps we took were met with silence. We didn’t, but the plants and trees broke the silence as they howled to one another.
“What’s up, Jane?”
“It’s not really something huge. I just need a piece of advice from you.” I said, walking slowly.
“It’s about Peter,” I said.
“What about him?”
“He wants me to be his Val.”
“Did you say Val?” She asked, surprised.
“Yes.”
“I know it’s stupid,” I confessed.
“No, it’s not,” she objected.
“But it is,”
“Who says?”
“Peter is like the best guy in the school you could possibly have. Believe me, you’re going to be envied if you ever give him a chance.”
The word envied sounds appealing to my ears.
For long, I had wanted something beyond academics. I was a good kid, as I knew. But I wanted more.
Peter could just be what I needed.
I needed to hear more, and so I extended our dialogue.
“I’m just fourteen, Taiwo.”
“I’m thirteen, just in case you forgot. And I’ve got a boyfriend.”
At that moment, I saw Taiwo as an outcast who was yet to be identified.
It was as if she knew what was going through my mind.
“There is nothing new under the sun,” she said.
“I wasn’t the first, nor will I be the last.”
Seeing my mother’s shop ahead, I asked, befuddled, “What can I do?”
“I think you already know what to do. What you needed was a surety, and you have that in me.”
“See you tomorrow,” she said as she crossed to the other side of the road.
My mother quit her bar but retained her shop.
Some of my mother’s late customers didn’t stop coming to her shop to patronize her.
Those who stopped switched to Mama Bola’s shop, just as she had long desired.
Uncle Mike, as always, would come and buy beers from Mama Bola and bring them over to our shop to consume.
Mother never stopped him, as she ought, as he was one of her earliest customers who stood with her. Come rain, come sunshine.
While I sat with Uncle Mike, he told me of his time as a student at the secondary school.
“I never knew you went to a school,” I said stunningly.
“Oh!” he exclaimed.
“You think those who go to bars to consume bottles of beer are without senses?”
“My dear, life in itself can be bemusing, so I can’t fault your level of reasoning.”
“May I tell you something?” I asked.
“Why not? I’m as sober as I was before gulping these bottles.
I explained everything that happened at school to Uncle Mike. I told him I didn’t want my mother to hear about it, knowing she would get worried that I’m being distracted.
Uncle Mike promised to keep the discussion our little secret.
Though I wasn’t convinced by the words of a boozer, I was relieved to know he might just forget everything once he became sober.
I bore my heart to him, explaining my fears and how much I wanted nothing to do with Peter.
Uncle Mike surprisingly explained how he had been a notorious student once. He narrated how his own notoriety was with class, not with empty brains.
“Children of these days claiming to be big boys with bird brains,” he remarked.
“My notoriety garnered attention from me because girls were willing to say yes without my asking.”
“I wish you would understand, Joan, but you just can’t.” He said it convincingly.
“Just be the smart girl you’ve always been. And if you ever feel troubled again, I’ll be just here.
“You’ve got it in you,” he said conclusively.
