Hope for Christmas

🎅1--DEAFNESS🎅

And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus." ~ Philippians 4:19

ILEN

Blinded by tears and deafened by the noise of the school children, Ilen walked out of the school gate with her handbag and a sack that housed her textbooks and other teaching materials that had been useful for the past twelve years she taught at Lansteph College. She had started teaching there two years after her youth service in Jigawa. The first year and six months she spent in a rundown private school in Ajegunle. Students barely sat during classes not for lackv of tranquillity , but lack of good chairs and desks. Even teachers brought their own chalk from home.

Frustrated, Ilen resigned and spent the next six months searching tirelessly for a job. Lansteph was the answer to her prayers. She remembered the ecstasy with which she had called her parents to tell them that their daughter was now working in a big private school. A school that the paint did not peel off the walls, the desks and chairs were sturdy. Along the line, a staff bus had been purchased.

Her parents, retired academics wondered what kind of name Lansteph was. Ilen had defended the name. It was a combination of Lancelot and Stephanie. Her parents were surprised by how prickly she was over matters that were concerned with her workplace and her bosses but Ilen felt she was on the right track. They paid her well, she had job security. They employed her when they could have easily employed a masters' degree holder. Ilen had deliberately left out the fact that they were extremely short staffed.

Now, it was all over.

Ilen left Lansteph without as much as a last glance. Some of her colleagues commended her for resigning. How could she- a mother, an adult be asked to apologise on her knees to a child merely fourteen years old simply because she asked the girl to kneel? Others reprimanded her and tagged her as foolish . It did not matter whether they supported her or not. What had been done had been done. All Ilen could think of as she trekked home on the buzzing Lagos road was her daughters. A lot had changed for them this year and just at the end, it had gotten much worse than any of them had inagined.

Ilen had buried her father, her now estranged husband, Patrick had walked out on her and their daughters then he taunted her with calls and text messages to inform her of the pleasant life he was having without her and her girls and the way he saud girls , with a sneer lihe her children were an abomination always set Ilen on edge. Patrick called when his new woman got pregnant, hr called again when they moved into a new house to have space for the baby.  He called when she gave birth.  It was a boy. A son. His son. A hundred versions of Ilen's girls were not worth a version of his son.

Ilen bit her lip every time he called. She balled her fingers into fists for every second of his speeches. She could not block him. He sent money regularly for her daughters because he did not want his conscience to be burdened should her girls starve to death. Ilen cried after each call and yelled at her daughters each time they brought him up or misbehaved. When Angel did not sweep the house properly last week, Ilen yelled  at her "Do you think Patrick would come and sweep it for you? Does he live here?"
When Gabriella failed her test, Ilen asked her "Are you waiting for Patrick to come and remind you to study?"
Then she would always laugh sardonically. Her daughters were scared  of the woman she was becoming. She could feel their childlike trust of her dissipating.

The sun had joined forces with Lansteph to punish Ilen . It was sizzling hot and she was parched but refrained from purchasing water from the girls and women that hawked water and drinks in plastic bowls. There was water in the house, no need to waste money.

It was a little over an hour before she got to their two bedroom flat in a three storey building on a lively street in Falomo.
"Happy new month o" The wonan that sold akara and fried yam opposite her building greeted. Ilen responded with a stiff nod and smile. There was nothing happy about the month. Lansteph did not bother paying her November salary. When she entered the flat, there was dust everywhere.  Harmattan was close if not already here. Ilen quenched her thirst then began wiping the dust off surfaces.  Her phone rang.  Glancing at it, she hissed wondering what Patrick wanted. She picked albeit grudgingly.