Nina

Chapter 1

The sky was darkened, a storm threatening, I was headed home with my chauffeur behind the wheels of a black Mercedes car. Musa was a bit chatty to ease my growing tension, but I was in no mood for a conversation. Outside, the rains had started to pour down heavily, making the roads slippery and more dangerous.

Suddenly, black hooded men approached the car. My palms became sweaty and my heart beat raced in anxiety. I wondered what they wanted.

They shouted in huff voices, one of them said to Musa who was visibly trembling, "Oga, come out!!". I sat stiffly on the leather seat with fear coursing through me. Musa shouted run, "Nina runnn!!!!".

Brinnng!! Brinnng!!
I woke in a haze, shaking from my strange nightmare, my night gown soaked with sweat.

I staggered up and slammed the alarm off.
"Oh talking mushrooms!", I muttered beneath my breath. It's another long day. Grudgingly, I went to the bathroom to get prepared for the day ahead. When I was finished, I got dressed in the Luther College uniform of a Cobalt blue long sleeved shirt and gray, fitted skirts; which I constantly tugged at to ensure they were below knee length. I stepped in front of the full sized mirror to knot the school tie; I had never fancied ties. I thought it as instrument of restriction like a leash is to a dog. And I was no dog!!

After the dress up, I headed downstairs. I found my father, sitting at the table. He was engrossed in the day's copy of the Punch Newspaper he was reading. I greeted him good morning.

"Good morning, Nina, how are you?"

"I'm alright, dad."

Just then, Betty walked in with my breakfast of hot quaker oats. She was the house maid. The young woman was in her mid-twenties, a typical indigene of eastern Nigeria who always pronounced the consonants "r" as "l" and vice-versa like she did now when she said, "Nina, your bleakfast is leady".

I found it rather amusing. And when I didn't care less of it, I corrected her. Irrespective of her vocal deficiency, she was really beautiful. Averaging 5 ft, so you could not clearly distinguish if she was tall or short. Her skin color was a mix of fair and darkness. Once I asked her why she was that way and her reply was thus;

"God didn't know whether to make me dark or to make me fair, so he made me both."

"How did you know?" , I asked.

"I just do", was all she replied.

She was no dummy but she was not that intellectual capacitated though. However, her charisma more than made up for that. Plus the fact that she was an excellent cook.

I watched her leave the room. Her hips moving up and down in fluid motion. She had large buttocks. Sometimes, when no one's looking, I measure mine to see if it is that big.

My eyes move to see if my father was looking at Betty or caught me looking at Betty. He was not. Instead, the wad of paper on his right hand had reduced with the left increasing, indicating that he was almost finished with the newspaper.

I let my mind wander again. I wondered if my father would have admired my mother the way I admired Betty had she been alive. My mother passed away eleven years ago in room 53 of Silvia hospital at Ikeja. She was sick, really sick and had been for awhile before she died.

I recall few memories of her while she was alive. And the much I know of her were stories my dad would tell me. I was barely 6 years old.

***
He sat me down one day to tell me about her. I listened intently and let my imagination create a picture of this lovely mother of mine I never got to know

"Your mother was such a wonderful person, but she was ill. Life was very tough for us back then. I was amongst the list of people lost their jobs when my former place of work, Crypton Bank was bought over by Arion Bank. And I was only a bank officer. Your mother was a grade level 5 civil worker in the ministry of finance. What income she earned from her work place we proportioned to take care of ourselves and you. She loved you dearly."

Tears were welling up in his eyes. He dipped his hands into his pockets, brought out a white handkerchief with which he used to wipe his eyes. He then looked at me, smiled and continued his narrative.

You were not the first born as you may have supposed yourself to be. You would have had an elder brother. But he was a still born. Your mother wept bitterly, I did my best to console her. When she started displaying the symptoms of her illness, I took her to the hospital for a check up.

Her friend did it for a lesser fee because of their friendship, and more because we didn't have any money. When the tests results came out, it was confirmed that your mother had a cancer in her cervix. I asked what could be done about it. She explained her situation to me.

"Mr George, may I see you in the office?", Doctor Rita asked as she walked into the hospital room that day.

"Of course doctor". I replied worriedly, standing up from your mother's side and following her to the office.

At the office she continued talking.

"Sir, your wife has a case of cancer of the cervix."

"Ahn!!!" I exclaimed, "how?"

"Somehow she got exposed to the Human Papillomavirus, or if you prefer, HPV. It is the most common cause of most cases Of Cervical cancer. On a normal basis, the body's immune system is meant to fight against the disease. But in your wife's case, the cancer is spreading away from her cervix to other parts of her body, we refer to it as invasive cancer", she explained.

"Hmm", I sighed, "Madam, I no dey understand all these things wey  you don talk."

"Sir, what I am trying to say is that your wife has a serious injury on her cervix and it needs to be removed as quickly as possible."

"Okay, how do we remove it and how much would that cost?"

"We'd have to run a radical trachelectomy, a surgical operation of her cervix and currently there's no hospital in the nation that can handle your wife's case, like I said, the cancer's already spreading. So we'd transfer her to a hospital in India."

"Ehn doctor I have heard you but you still haven't told me the cost."

"Sir, the treatment should be around $700 non inclusive of other costs. But just budget a thousand dollars."

I sighed heavily stood up and left.

There was no way I could have raise such an amount of money. I didn't even have a job. I applied for loans but was denied because of the fact that I didn't have any property that could be used as collateral. Relatives refused to help. The church tried to render assistance but it was futile.

And so your mother died. She made me promise her that I'd take excellent care you. Now emotional, he pressed forward to me and swallowed me in his big arms, rubbing his palms on my hack.
***

I was drawn back to reality by the fact that I had barely eaten my oats and time had gone while I was lost in thoughts. My dad folded the paper neatly and laid it on the table. He shot a worried glance at me, raising his right eyebrow, he asked.

"Not hungry?"

"No." I replied, "I'd just have myself some slices of bread."

"Alright dear, just hasten up a bit so you don't be late for your first day at your new school.*

"I really don't know why I am changing schools, dad."

"Nina, we've talked about this. Well, for one, the school is a good school with quality teachers and a high standard of education. Not to mention their successes in the past WAEC, which you'd be registering in a few months."

I just sighed to end the conversation and avoid getting late for this good school with high quality teachers.

"Now, get going", he put in, "Musa has been waiting for you."