MEMOIRS OF A YOUNG NIGERIAN GIRL

Chronicles of Osas V

It was finally time for the long holidays. Everyone was happy and smiling. Everywhere was in a bustle. Student matrons were out front greeting and welcoming parents, school mothers and fathers accompanied their school children to meet their parents all for a token of appreciation.

I stayed at a corner of the school field alongside Osas waiting for our parents to arrive. Osas was anxious. I could feel it, it was obvious. Osas anxiety was slowly dragging her into dysphoria. She was dysphoric, I was desperate.

After our meeting with the school Counsellor, we followed her up every two days to hear of any new development. We earnestly prayed not to have any face to face encounter with the nosy receptionist whilst visiting the office, but seeing her was inevitable. For the first two times we went to her office, we came out with drooping shoulders. Three days before the long holidays, we went back to see the counsellor hoping and begging God for any Good news, and there was.

The counsellor told us that our request has been successfully processed and the school has accepted to follow it up together with the appropriate agency. We were both grinning from ear to ear like children who were given candy.

“But there is a problem", she said.

I and Osas looked at each other.

But not to worry, the counsellor continued, It's a minor problem, she said.

Ok ma, we nodded.

She cleared her throat and continued. We called your mum, in as much she was so reluctant to answer the work phone from her secretary, she said she was not aware of this going on in her home. She said putting stress on the "SO".

Osas scoffed.

Even at that I will do my best and remember I'm giving you both especially Osas a benefit of doubt. She chipped in and rested her back on her almost worn out swivel chair. Your holidays is in three days right, and to that effect I am going to drop my personal number and that of the agency's emergency number. You are liable to call me at any time, I will listen to you. But for the agency's number, call in times of emergency and quick aid.

“Thank you ma", we both said.

“I'm happy I could be of help", she replied.

We both left the office with mixed feelings. Fast forward to our vacation day, we were still at the school field when the driver assigned by her mum to pick Osas from school arrived. The man sighting Osas alighted from the black sedan car and approached her. When the driver got to my view of vision, I could tell he was standing at a height of 5 ft 3 with well trimmed hair and beards , all suited up and probably an accommodating character.

When he came closer to us, he smiled and greeted us in pidgin(vernacular English used in Nigeria)

“Small madam, good afternoon oo."

“Oga kelvin, good afternoon". Osas replied.

“Small madam, na your friend be this", he asked, referring to me.

Yes, oga kelvin, Osas said looking at me. So treat her with the same respect you give me. Now, that's a healthy boss and employee relationship, I noted.

“Ehen, small madam, big madam say wen I reach, make I call am".

My mum wants to speak to me, Osas said pointing her hands to herself.

“Yes, she wan follow you talk". Oga kelvin replied.

Why, Osas asked.

“Na dat one I no know", he scratched his hair like he was looking for answers before he replied.

Ok, you call her let me speak to her.

Oga kelvin searched his pocket frantically and brought out his phone. He dialled her mum's number and it rang for a while until a lady which I assumed was her mum's secretary picked up.

Hello, Mr kelvin, do give me a minute so I can pass the phone to my boss. She spoke in a polished manner.

There was silence at the other end of the phone until a sweet calm voice took over.

“Hello my indispensable daughter".
Osas was taken by surprise. I was pretty sure she wasn't used to her mum calling her sweet names. She continued, “I'm sure Mr kelvin is right there with you. I loaded the credit card with enough money, get whatever you want and suit yourself till I'm back”.

Ok mum, Osas said rolling her eyes.

Someone from your school called and was talking bla bla. I have told you to leave my husband out of your shenanigans. We will trash this when we are both home.

Osas ended the call and rolled her eyes.

Although I heard every word said by her mum, I didn't say a word. I noticed Mr kelvin gave small madam distance. Maybe it was the scope of his work that entails ‘hear no evil', whatever that was, it was professional and I commend him for that.

It was time for Osas leave. We said our goodbyes, I gave her my phone number and told her to call me when she gets home or when she needs someone to talk to.
The sky turned grey and I knew the clouds was going to rain its content very soon.
I waited for my dad to arrive and upon seeing him driving in with his old model Volvo, my heart was gladdened. I missed my dad for real.

I and my brother packed our luggages into the car trunk and we left almost immediately. We had just left the school gate when the rain started. The rain splattered on the car windows, drawing diagonal lines on the surface of the windscreen and the wiper blades doing their works in return. I always have the habit of not winding up the glasses fully because I always find joyous peace when little droplets of rain touch my skin. You can call that a fetish of mine.

* Pidgin is a vernacular English spoken in Nigeria. The words in italics are considered pidgin words*.
Thank you.