Tara: A Baker's Adventure

004

"TISE!" I POKED MY HEAD out of my room door and shouted my sister's name in disbelief. "Why am I seeing my clothes on your WhatsApp status? Why are you selling my clothes?"

"I needed money!" she yelled back from her room which was just opposite mine.

"And the smartest thing that came to your mind was to sell my clothes?" I was thrown off by her audacity, and I felt my eyebrows furrow in confusion on their own accord. "Come out of your room, I'm talking to you. Are you thinking at all?"

The door to Tise's room opened shortly after and I was met with a bleak expression which only sparked my irritation. "Sister Tara, it would take you forever to send me money if I asked," she said, leaning against her doorframe.

"This is one of the many problems I have with you. This senseless entitlement you have to the things I own."

"It's not entitlement," she shrugged. "I just thought whatever you have is mine."

"Who told you that? Besides, that is exactly what entitlement means," I rolled my eyes. "You took my clothes, Tise. You took my clothes, took pictures of them and uploaded them online for people to buy. Does that sound right to you?"

"I don't see you wear those particular ones again," 

"And so, what? Did I ask you?" I couldn't understand it. "If you wanted to be charitable so bad, what happened to your clothes?"

She was quiet now, her teeth biting her lower lip and she looked like she was contemplating what to say to me next. 

"Do you seriously not see what the problem here is?" I spoke up again in the same manner I would speak to a 5 year-old who had just been caught stealing. 

"I'm sorry," I couldn't tell if she said it to fulfil all righteousness or if she really meant it. One could never tell with her. "I should have asked you."

"What do you even need the money for?" I leaned back against my doorframe, crossing my arms, but Tise's face brightened up in a smile. "For capital. I want to start  a business."

"Why not ask your daddy?" I asked, wondering what that had to do with me. Tise had a better relationship with our father.  She had him wrapped around his finger and was usually able to get him to do anything she wanted. I wasn't sure if it was due to the fact that she was the last child or if it was because she was what one would refer to as a "miracle child".  After suffering from two miscarriages, Mommy got pregnant again but fell into preterm labour. Born only thirty-five weeks into pregnancy, Tise's lungs and brain hadn't been fully developed. The projections from the doctor was that she would most likely be blind with developmental delays if she were to live. The celebration which was held on her first birthday was one that could only be imagined. Tise had been strong and healthy even till now. 

"Because it's easier to get things from daddy when he's around," she shrugged. "When he goes on these business trips, he forgets things a lot. I would have to wait four working days."

"Then ask your mother."

"I would, but Mommy will first ask me too many questions," it was her turn to roll her eyes.

"Wait— ", I almost burst out laughing, "— you're actually serious about starting a business."

Although it wasn't entirely bad, I thought it was quite pitiful that many Nigerian students were business owners and online vendors just because they knew that a job wasn't guaranteed for them after the university. It was why I ended up as a baker, afterall, and some days, I could only imagine what it would have been like if the story was different. Or was it ASUU that wouldn't stop striking until students reached the age they had originally planned to get married and have kids? Of course it only made sense to go into entrepreneurship in order to begin earning some money.