My big sister came today with a lot of smiles in her face and a big demand for money. You are free to call her Christle.
Anyway, I am starting to wonder if I should get mad at her for holding my money for too long or ask Clag's parents for their son's whereabouts. It is almost a week now and Clag was yet to return my soccer boots.
The other day, after I was done exercising in the morning, I saw Clag's Mum trying to cut the short grasses in their front yard and after moments of desperately trying to get her attention, she only waved a hand at me and went inside. Damn!
This morning, while I was waiting for my big sister to be done with the bathroom, I remembered she was fond of keeping money in her purse and I was so tempted to find her purse and open it.
I will have to thank someone later for ensuring I did not yield to my temptations because my big sister was about leaving the bathroom when I was considering doing it.
I just wished i had the courage to ask my big sister for my money when she came out of the bathroom because I had to wait till dinner to finally get the chance again.
Sarah called Mum's phone in the afternoon and Mum picked up. After about twenty minutes of speaking in hushed tones, Mum gave me her phone and told me to be quick. As I placed the phone on my ear, all I could hear were the sounds of gunshots as if she was in some sort of dangerous scene. Only when I heard her voice did I know she was watching an action packed movie on her TV set.
"Sorry," Sarah started, and I could feel how much she meant it from the sound of her voice.
"What are you sorry about?" I asked her.
"I am sorry about what I said to you," Sarah said.
"What did you say to me that you are sorry about?" I asked.
"It was irresponsible for me to assume you liked me because of the way you spoke to me on the phone."
Was Sarah mad? How could she think I was falling for her?
"I know it is immature for me to be saying such adult things to you but I hope you understand how I feel," she added.
Adult things my ass! The next word that came to my mind was "pedophile". I have seen Mum used it once when she was telling her friends at a dinner party how bad she hated a man who raped a five years old girl.
"Are you a pedophile?" I asked Sarah and she was stunned.
For a minute, I did not hear her say anything other then murmur to someone I couldn't see because I wasn't with her.
"I have to go now Perer. See you soon."
And that was it. Sarah's voice was gone. I figured it was best I try to contact Sarah after an hour and I did. She picked up my call and told me that everything she said was a mistake and that everything she said to me about my Dad was a lie. She hung up. She was gone again.
I have read enough books to know when someone is trying to get away with a crime and in my case, Sarah was doing the same thing but I don't know what she was trying to get away with.
Tonight I was totally jittery from my conversations with Sarah and I made a decision to totally withdraw from her but I didn't have any plans on how to achieve that. Maybe I will ask Mum about that later on.
I went to Clag's house and saw him digging up something in the backyard. I didn't waste much time with him after I collected my soccer boots from him. I just left. I was desperate to get some sleep so I could wake up early in the morning and go to church and then come back home and prepare my things for school.
I guess I was feeling excited that my holiday was finally coming to an end. On the other hand, I was yet to figure out how I will start the new term. It is kind of cool if I decide to start the new term by being alone and avoid making new friends. I didn't really know what to expect on the first day of school but I wasn't bothered either.
Christle came before I went to bed. She dropped two thousand naira notes inside one of my trousers and apologized for taking too long to pay me back. She wished me good luck and told me to be serious for the new term. I knew she was only saying that just so I wouldn't call her a bad sister. After all, she was more unserious than I am.
I hate school! I hate school as much as I hate playing basketball in the rain!I knew what to expect from my first day at school. The bullies, the almost filled school bus with teens around my age talking about their wonderful holidays and the teacher who cared about me. But things were about to change sooner than I thought. It was as if a divine order had been placed in my life and no matter what I tried to do, I can't erase it. Escaping my fate was worse than running away from a drone that has been designed to kill me.I sat down in the only empty seat in my class, which was right in front of my neighbour's son, Clag. After asking a few persons some questions, I discovered that Clag had been promoted to our class. I didn't understand that at first until Clag told me how he had a 95% average last term and the school authority felt it was best he skipped the class he was about to enter and join our final year cl
Everything started to fall apart on the first day of October when Mum came home from visiting some of her friends and tore the wedding portrait of her and Dad. If you were to ask me what I was doing then, well i was sitting on the couch, telling my junior brother, Danny to stop moving his legs in an odd manner. I heard Mum's tears coming from the bedroom her and Dad shared and it was really loud.Dad always said that a man's worth depended on how he took care of matters concerning his family. I didn't know what he meant by that or why he said that but on this day, I knew he had lost total control of his family.It is more than seven days— a week, since I resumed school and began the tedious lifestyle of a desperate teenager trying to cope with the rigorous demands of school life. I am very much aware that I have not written anything lately but I am still lost in thoughts on how I should begin this story or proba
My parents got separated and I was forced to move into my Uncle's house. Uncle Max lives in a different state in Nigeria, close to the state that I used to live in. My journey to Uncle Max’ house was smooth and within a couple of days, I was settled.It was late in the night and the sun had faded away to give the moon an opportunity to shine in the sky when Uncle Max came to my room and woke me up. He was a fair man who was in his early forties. He was single and was yet to start making up any plans for marriage."You need to get ready for school, tomorrow," Uncle Max said, stretching his arms. "I have already found a new school that can fit a person of your standard." He looked round the room at the carelessly flung bags, books and shorts over the chair."What of my elder sister and junior brother? Are they not coming to Enugu?" I asked, grinning."No! They are not coming to Enugu," Uncle Ma
One might start a journey with a footstep, the thrill of an amazing adventure and bearing in mind, whatever he or she may be able to discover at the other end of the road. Life means considerably more than just living and most of the time we get trapped in our daily activities that we forget to realise that our imperfect bodies needs some form of excitement. But Uncle Max did not see life the way I saw it – rather he went to work, came back from work, ate, sleep and then repeat. With a new smile on his face every morning, he always joked about his boss calling him a loner. Something I was not unfamiliar with. A loner is a man who is alone. A man who enjoys avoiding the company of others. As off as it may sound, Uncle Max was a loner. A staunch man who had learnt to see spending time alone in his room as pleasure, oblivious to the fact that he was damaging himself.I formed a faint smile on my face as i thought of the night before, when Uncle Max had a remarkable o
By dawn, Dad, Mum, Christle, Danny and some relatives were already waiting for Uncle Max and I in Dad's apartment in Port-Harcourt. Before a large bowl filled with garden eggs was passed round the gathering, we had washed our hands in a common basin as a sign of unity before inviting God to ensure that the rest of our days go well. Everyone was smiling, including Dad and Mum who were divorced or better still, who felt they were divorced. Legally, it takes usually about four to six months before a divorce is finalized but my parents were resistant on any conversation that ended with them getting back together. Dad proudly told everyone in his workplace that he was a single man if anyone had the boldness to bring up the question of his marriage. On the other hand, Mum had pulled off the ring Dad gave to her when he proposed to her, from her index finger and told me the last time I saw her that she was divorced and married to the man that she was living with even though the man was yet
I dont like when the scorching sun hits my dark skin but there is nothing I can do about it anyway. The heat was a battering ram. I basked in it anyway not minding how hot it grew. The sky was tossing huge balls of sweat, the size of broken buttons forcefully pulled off from shirts. I could feel the rain coming. The soft drizzle hitting my skin like the sound of jazz music soothing my eardrums, like a distorted massage from a beautiful masseuse. The rain had the ability to drown the heat and put me away from the misery I felt as I walked alone to school, but it was as insignificant as following the advice of Uncle Max to stop at the bungalow owned by my classmate's parents. Goodness was a year older. Unlike Clag, he was a nerdy teen who liked to socialize.Being under the heat of the sun and waiting for the rain to fall is like holding a ladybug, the flutter of its shell-like front wings like a small tidal wave— smaller and safer than the tsunami that hit Lituya B
I and Goodness got to school when the school prefect rang the school bell and the assembly was about to begin. Taking Uncle Max's advice was the best thing I did this morning after a long time of avoiding Goodness' house. Listening to Goodness talk about his life in Warri, a boisterous city in Delta State, Nigeria was the start of an epic friendship. A friendship I am hoping would last for a long period of time.The morning assembly was brief. Unlike my former school in Port-Harcourt, my new school did not like wasting time in forcing students to form lines and coordinating some few elects to lead the rest students in hymns before announcing whatever changes the school had made or were making.About three teachers were waiting at the of the school as soon as the time was a minute past eight. According to school policies, it was not right for a student to enter the school premises after the time had passed eight. The prefect given the post to ensure that all the student
Miss Bisi worried about Uncle Max so did I. She did not know how best to approach the situation and tell him how she felt about the way he treated her. She was hoping that after the night that he had rejected her, he would return to his right senses and dial her number, but he seemed keener to spend his free time alone rather than spend it with a woman who was showing him affections he was not used to. In the meantime, although she was afraid of putting all her efforts on Uncle Max, some things were quite different about Uncle Max, at least not in a way that reduced her chances with him. It helped her to know that Uncle Max could still love her one day and probably even ask for her consent to marry him. Miss Bisi was getting older every day and as she marked her thirtieth birthday, she knew she would be expecting a reminder from her mother to get married as soon as possible. There was also another woman who usually paid Uncle Max a