What is this screeching noise I am hearing?
I’m finding it so difficult to open my eyes. It feels like “evostic” gum was
used to seal my eye lids together and to make the matter worse I realized my jaw
is dropped open.
Oh!
I must have slept off without even one
sentence in my book.
“So this is what writers go through” I
sighed.
“No matter how long this is going to take i
mu-“
“Hello young woman”...
I pondered for a semi-second.
That voice sounds so firm, manly and full
of seduction I could drip drop in one second.
I looked up.
Indeed my life is worthless and shameful.
This Joyful old-man really just pointed
that out.
Biko! Whatever happened to all the young
boys of my age that they have decided to punish this old man to come and set
the “P”?
“Woman!” He raised his tone
“I’m not your age mate” I raised my voice.
“Go and toast all the oldies of your age
not me.” I shunned.
He laughed and walked away.
Can you imagine? Am I not worth fighting
for?
Or why did he walk away like that? Don’t
people form again? Na wa o
Day after day I feel ashamed but I know
that I’m gonna live large.
I had completed my book when I realized
it’s been thirteen weeks since I last saw papa.
“Tufia! I will never return. Love paku oku”
That man just can’t be my father!
He is my hell on earth, my cold-fire, my
heartache and my pain.
But because he remains the first and true
love of mama I will go check on him for mama’s sake.
I walked for about half a mile. I didn’t
realise I had gone that far away from home. Very unlike my street, every where seemed
lonely. How could it possibly feel this way.
“The ruffians of this town live here.
Brought up and bred here in Onitcha Mmili how could this place be so down?” I
said to myself
I got to my doorstep...
I have played “mini mini mani mo father has
a donkey...” about five times until I braved to knock.
So I knocked.
“knock, knock”
“Onye nor ebe ahu, Ogini gicho?” (who is
there, what do you want?)
“O mu wa Papa” I said so calmly
“Nwaayi” Papa muttered!
I raced like never before. I was beside papa
in less than two seconds, I knelt beside him and I wept.
I wept till I was soaked.
Maybe I should wish death for Papa and kill
myself as well.
I screamed!!! Papa why???
Papa encountered a robbery attack and broke
his legs. I would have loved this sight three months ago but...
I sobbed.
For the first time papa called me his
daughter. It the first time I love him.
“Papa, papa I have lost you” I wailed.
I heard some footsteps...
“Ogini ne me” (what is happening) I asked myself.
Before I could get to the door, lo and
behold, that joyful old-man must have followed me.
“please let me help you” the oldie said
I couldn’t even refuse
“Please Sir I’m at your mercy anything you
can do for me I will appreciate.”
He placed a phone call and spoke in
something that sounds like Arabic.
“Please Sir! Please. Don’t sell me”
“I will help you” He smiled.
Then this oldie and I laughed and cracked
funny jokes together while some doctors were cleaning up Papa.
“What is your name?” I asked
“Mr. Alfred, please”
“oh!. Nice to meet you Mr. Alfred Please”
“Please?” He repeated as he burst in
laughter.
I am confused.
“Oh dear please is not my name it is simple
courtesy.” He addressed
I returned the laugh as we continued our
discussion.
Mr. Alfred happens to be a writer and a
publisher of which he took my book along with him to Italy to be published. He
said he has studied me for weeks and loved my passion while writing.
I had no phone and no money to send a letter
and it’s been sixteen weeks since I saw Mr Alfred.
But I’m yet still happy. Papa is getting
better.
After nineteen weeks Mr. Alfred came back.
He didn’t have to knock to come in not
because he lacked manners but that the rain had blown down the door.
In his hand was an inviting well designed
and colourful book.
I stretched my hands out to get it
“Adaobi this is not a gift, you own it”
“Say it again Sir”
“Ada you made this book”
I danced etigi and threw some alanta’s in
the air.
He stretched out his hands with a white
paper well cut into a rectangular shape and said
“This also is yours”
I looked at that paper thoroughly and
spotted some letters that interprets some large figures.
I was running mad in my head.
I had seen a hundred and fifty thousand U.S
Dollars.
And then he said “Let me get you dressed,
we have dinner tonight”
Before my very eyes I was transformed into
a damsel! My stunning look can’t be bought but admired.
“You
remind me of Ezinne and I’m so proud of you” Papa whispered.
I smiled.
In my heart of hearts I would have based
him slaps. Sigh
THE END.
