==THE ADVENTURES OF SPAIN== SEASON 2,EPISODE 3 When it was time for ifeoma to leave,I really can’t recall how much I gave her but I’m very sure it was not more than five hundred naira. I know what you guys may be thinking. Nah, I’m not stingy; far from it. To be candid, I always felt ashamed when I’m about to squeeze those denominations into her hands. The truth is, I gave according to what I have. If I had more I would’ve given her more but I’m only a student who lives off his parents. Unlike some other students, my allowance was not fixed neither was it steady. It was also not near comfortable. It was only enough to keep me breathing. Sometimes, I would receive four thousand naira for a month. Other times I received a bank credit alert of five hundred naira (lol, smh). I survived on it and also from a freelancer computer repair work I did for cyber cafés within Agbani. . Things had nose-dived after my dad had an accident in 2007 (same year I gained admission). Nobody believed he would make it out alive – at least not after he went under the knife for the fifth time which happened to be a live surgery (performed without administering anaesthetic injection). His stomach was literally being cut while he was fully awake and conscious. The accident affected his spinal cord and so the doctors had to tread carefully in order not to further complicate the fragile situation which could mean a permanent paralysis. He actually was passing urine through the help of a “caretaker” (a piped bag link to the bladder via the stomach). Before the fifth corrective surgery, the anaesthetist had advised against administering the injection unless if we want him paralysed and so he had to be belted on the surgery bed while the doctors performed the operation. My dad wailed like a baby. The whole hospital ward was agog with his cries. Imagine being chained to a bed while your stomach is cut open, hands going in and out, some internal parts continuously being cut and subsequently stitches with needle. . He had the accident at Portharcourt where he had gone on a business trip. He was carried to a private hospital where he stayed for two weeks and had two surgeries. Later he was transferred to a hospital in Aba and from there to Owerri where he went through the knife thrice. All these surgeries where accompanied with mind shattering bills that run into millions of naira and not inclusive of the normal hospital “bed” bill. Friends and relatives deserted us. My mum was left to carry the burden of both the surgery and my admission process. I even suggested dropping out until the family recovers financially but the “woman of faith” urged me on. For two years, my dad was incapacitated but I thank God he is back to life now (hail, hearty and shinning like nothing happened). I believe you now understand why I must be prudent in my spending especially as it concerned relationships. I always compensated the little monies I gave out with planned fasts and marathon trekking (skipping meals and trekking home from school) until I’m sure that the money has been fully compensated for. That was the situation then. . Life continued as usual with the ladies taking turn to visit me. Nasa made sure to come travel down whenever she felt the itch underneath. Blessing (the ugly girl) was the normal side chick that I only called on when the desirables were not available. Commy kept in touch on the phone. We spoke almost every night on the “Mtn Xtra Cool” free midnight calls that lasted from 12:30am to 4:30am. She had graduated from being in love to obsession. A little quarrel between us is enough to make her go on serious hunger strike that I will have to be called by the elder sister to plead with her to eat. It was that bad! The time for me to go on the compulsory six months students industrial work experience scheme (I.T) was fast approaching. It was to start by June. Uche came back from school in the evening of a certain day. He had gone to visit one of our friends (Jude) who lived closer to school. He was beaming with smiles when he walked in. I thought maybe he had his stomach filled at Jude’s house. . “Guy, dis wan you dey shine teeth for me e be like say Jude do Christmas for you today,” I inquired. Jude is from Mbaise and naturally endowed with wisdom. He’s so crafty that we had to collectively enthrone him as the “Brain Box” of the department. While you’re talking or dealing with Jude on level one, his brain is already processing activities to execute at level six. I’ve never seen such a tricky and cunning individual to this day. “Nna, forget Jude matter. You no go believe say upon all the time wey I kill for there this guy no gree carry food comot for me. The guy man gat to stay hungry until now wey I comot there just to make sure I no eat. But that one no be wetin dey totori me. Ol’ boy e get one chikala wey I see for Jude area. The babe make sense sha but na bush meat. Na me and am just dey talk since. I even press the bobbi small, chai…” Uche happily narrated while I kept processing the information in an attempt to place a face on this mystery girl. It’s usual for students to have one funny tag on the locals of the host community. In the case of ESUT, we call the girls “bush meat”. . “Guy, abeg you fit describe this girl wey you dey talk so? Where she dey live and how she look like,” I requested. “The girl na average height, round face, she no too get bobbi sha but she fine… I dey see her sometimes for inside school wey she dey sell…” “…mpataka,” I completed the statement before Uche could. Mpataka is an Igbo term for Tapioca. I knew the girl in question. She normally sells tapioca with coconut in front of our faculty sometimes. “Exactly!” Uche screamed still flashing his teeth with joy. “Guy, forget am… I know that girl. Just forget am. Shey you no enter am abi?” I asked looking very serious. “Nooo, I no enter am. Na only bobbi I press small. Wetin happen why you wan make I leave am?” He replied. The smile had vanished from his face. “Guy, I don hear many things about that girl. Dem talk say she dey flirt with students. Okay, reason am, how you wan date girl wey dey sell for inside school. This same school wey you and I know say boys eyes dey red. Many for don enter am siiiiince,” I made sure I stressed the last word. All these were mere assumptions but I made it look like they were facts. I may have seen the girl in one or two occasions discussing with male students but it might actually have been strictly business. Or they may be asking her out which she also might have declined but the thought of a beautiful young girl in the midst of hungry lions is enough to get me into hasty conclusions. . Uche saw the seriousness with which I asserted my claims and had no choice but to believe me. He was conspicuously unhappy with the development but nevertheless thanked me for saving him from impeding danger. I, on my own, had done what I did to protect him. I never had a hidden intention. Not even the tiniest. He made a decision to call off whatever plans he had for the girl. He never wanted to take her serious anyways. He just wanted to ‘draw her oil’ like my brother Money Soldier would say. Over the following days I made sure I teased him with the word ‘mpataka’ whenever we joked. Sometimes, I would whisper into his ears “mpataka is waiting for you in front of the faculty” which would see him go into hiding in one of the classrooms. I made him restless. While walking within the school premises I would tell him I just saw ‘mapataka’ and it looked like she was looking for him. I teased him a lot. This continued until one day – a day the story changed. I had gone to Jude’s house to get a copy of a handout from him and when I was ushered into his room my eyes fell on ‘mpataka’ innocently seated on the rug watching a Nollywood movie.
Posted on: Wed, 22 Oct 2014 13:10:33 +0000
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