Chapter 3

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Okay, so here are the next two chapters of the story. I know I said I would write the next three but I’ve been writing and typing for five hours now and I’m quite tired. I’ll post the next chapter tomorrow, I promise. I’d also like to dedicate these two chapters to Kokoprincess and Speakerboxx76 for being my first ever fans and for my first comment. And thanks to the rest of you for your comments, I really appreciate it.

 

Also, I’d like to state that West Oxfordshire Academy is a real school (I think) but the characters are purely fictional, so no harm to anyone. Thanks for reading J

 ‘Planner – check’

‘Pencil case – check’

‘Books – check’

‘Lunch box – check’

‘Bag – check’

Iris finished checking for all her requirements before skipping over to the mirror to check on her uniform and see if everything was indeed intact. She was so excited, she could burst. Reminiscing over her weekend, she realised that everything in England was way different from Nigeria.

The people here acted very differently, as she observed from the car window during the ride from London to Oxford. She could see boys being the typical rowdy teenagers, shouting at each other or even tackling themselves playfully, girls were normally seated outside restaurants or cafes, trying to get the attention of good looking boys or giggling among themselves. To say she was amazed would have been an understatement. Mama would have never let her venture outside on her own because of the dangers that lurked in the village with a girl her age walking around without a guide or an elderly person to accompany her. Even when the village boys shouted, they were usually in a brawl fighting over a keg of palm wine, ogogoro or a girl and the outcome was usually bloody. It seemed as if everyone in Oxford took their safety none too seriously, or perhaps it was way safer here than back home.

Another aspect of Oxford which took her breadth away was the historical buildings and the ancient feel of the city. Iris loved history and she knew that she would love studying this place.

‘Is this how everything is?’, she asked turning to her aunt.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘This place, the people, the buildings. They all look so refreshing!’

Agnes chuckled at her niece’s naivety, ‘well, it’s very much different from the village back home, my dear. Everything’s well organised and the youth make up most of the town. That’s why I knew you’d love it here.’

‘Well, it looks nice. And feels safe too’, Iris replied, smiling dreamily as she stared out the window and resumed her people-watching.

‘It may be different from Nigeria but nowhere is safe.  Don’t forget that’.

Iris could not help but shudder at her aunt’s eerie tone. Her suspicions were confirmed when she looked at her aunt and noticed her worried face. Yes, the woman was hiding something. ‘Is anything the matter, aunty?’

Agnes jumped in surprise before turning briefly to her niece, a smile on her face, ‘Of course everything is fine. Why would you say that? Anyway, I’m very happy you’re here! I promised your mother that I’ll take care of you and I’m going to start doing that tomorrow’

‘What’s happening tomorrow?’

‘We’re going shopping!’, Agnes replied in a cheery voice which made Iris laugh at her aunt’s childishness. ‘I’m not sure about shopping. I’ve never really done that before.’

‘I wouldn’t expect that seeing as you have lived in a village all your life. But don’t worry, leave it all to me. We’ll get you measured for your uniforms, get your school bags, stationery...’

Iris again droned off realising her aunt was babbling as usual. However, one word brought her firmly back to earth. ‘Make-up? What? Why would I need make-up?’

‘For you to look better, silly. Not that you don’t look good already. It’s what young girls like you do these days so you may need to put on some.’

‘Erm, I’m not sure about that’. ‘Why not? It’ll make you look good and it’s not like you’ll be piling it on your face. Don’t worry, I won’t let you go that far’, Agnes replied, throwing a wink at Iris.

‘But mama said...’ ‘Do not worry about your mother. I’ll look after you. Besides, I’m sure looking better will guarantee you a better suitor than that village boy they want you to marry’

Iris managed a thin smile but didn’t say anything. She knew that her aunt despised the idea of an arranged marriage, which the family was forcing on Iris.

They later arrived at 1p.m (as Iris had taken an overnight flight) and she was amazed at what she saw. Agnes had clearly done well for herself, judging from the semi-detached house in front of her. The interior was also quite spacious as well; there was a lovely spacious kitchen, living room and a bathroom between the kitchen and corridor. There were three bedrooms upstairs with another bathroom and a garden in the backyard.

Agnes smiled at her niece’s awe-struck face; ‘Yes. This is the result of five long years of hard work but I can now say that it’s all mine’, she said with pride.

After an hour of settling in and Iris getting more shocked at the fact that she had a walk-in closet in her room, they both decided to go shopping. However, she soon realised that her aunt was relentless as she kept buying clothes, make-up, shoes, jewelleries and whatnot. Iris tried to stop her aunt from buying too many items but the elder woman swatted her away saying something along the lines of ‘saving up for this moment’ and ‘not letting any of the money go to waste’. They returned home at 7pm, after which Iris ate her dinner and prepared herself for her first ever night on her very comfortable bed. Before closing her eyes, she remembered something that had bothered her during the ride to Oxford. When Aunt Agnes smiles, she does so with her entire face. And at that time when she smiled to reassure her niece, the smile did not reach her eyes.

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