To Sink into the Deep

Same Price

Author's Note

Some context for this story, the Nigerian Naira at the moment is at a rate of 361 Nigerian Naira to one United States Dollar, the official bank rate and 520 Naira to one USD on the black market. Please take some time out to pray for my nation.

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Amaka put her crumpled 200 naira note on the table as the others put their own notes of varying states of cleanliness on either sides of the textbook depending on who they thought would score the next goal. Only Amaka's money was on the left side of the textbook; she had bet on the underdog. As she and the fifteen boys clustered around the small dorm radio, her eye was still being kept on the (thankfully) digital clock on the wall.

14:52

Good. Thirty-eight minutes left till they had to act like good students. If any teacher caught them gambling at the corner of the boys' hostel, they would all be punished; more so for Amaka. A female day student in the boys' hostel when extra-curricular activities were going on was not exactly prefect material. But where else would she find a group of (mostly) safe, semi-rich teenagers so invested in soccer they'd bet.

14:56

'Come on', Amaka whispered under her breath. 'Just score a goal for mama so I can take all this cash.'

14:58

Thirty two more minutes boys. Amaka thought feeling like her thoughts could somehow reach the team half-way across the world. I need just one goal. I've got to sprint to Shoprite. Thank you Lord for the store that's close to my school and also my house. Oh and I'm sorry for disobeying school rules. Pleases forgive me, You know why I'm doing it and also please let no teacher catch me.

15:07

'Lord please let my boys score a goal.'

About two seconds later, the commentator's voice rose higher and higher and Amaka held her breath and moved with everybody else closer and closer to the radio even as the back of her mind told her not to subject herself to the stench. She would still know the result. Yet, she inched closer as she felt the tension thicken and then snap leaving in its place great relief and an unladylike yell from Amaka.

Without wasting time, she snatched up all the money on the table, stuffing it all into her bag all the while cackling with glee.

15:11

The time was good, the surroundings looked clear, everything was looking up. Well not everything but enough for happiness to hop around Amaka's insides. Ignoring the calls of "Amaks, leave something for the boys!" which, as Amaka expected, soon turned to "Greedy ----", she passed through the backdoor of the hostel then double checked to make sure the money was secure in her bag.

After deciding to count her money at the mall (pros: AC and safety, cons: less chance of getting her money if any was missing), she made her way to the store.

Once there, she counted her money: 3,500 naira, excluding her own 200 naira. Amaka did not know where the crisp 500 naira note had come from so she prayed over it. The stories she heard of strange money were more than enough. She put the money in a special section of her bag where she hid money for herself and herself alone. The sections earlier occupant, a 200 naira note she had saved for this occasion when she found out about it, joined the 500 naira.

Amaka stood there for a while, eyes closed, savouring the sensation of the sweat drying off her uniform. What she wanted at that moment, was for someone to keep her in a room with air conditioning like this, give her unlimited food, Wi-Fi and a laptop so she could live the way she always dreamed of: a life without management. But the thought of going home to garri and win-the-war soups got her moving again. The money would be better spent in her mom's hands but Amaka wanted Indomie noodles, although more out of practicality that favorability. The noodles were easy to cook and a carton would last a week in her house.

Unfamiliar with the shop but unwilling to ask for help, it took Amaka a while to find a carton. She peered at the cost. ₦1,300. Okay enough. Now, she just had to come up with a way to get the change into her parents' hands. The noodles were easy to explain away: she could say one of those companies that randomly visit public schools and hand out things while smiling for cameras had come again.

Amaka got in line at the cashier's behind a man who was buying apples. As she pondered how she would get home safe and sound with the carton, she heard the cashier say the price of the apples.

"It is one thousand, three hundred naira, sir."

Amaka felt a weight within her, a weight of impatience and anger and sadness as the man brought out the money from a wallet possibly filled with ten times more than the price he was paying. The effortlessness and indifference with which he brought out the money made Amaka feel like throwing her carton of noodles at the man while screaming incoherently after which she'd just jump into that oh-so-far-away future where everything would be alright. The need for that future filled her with an aching intensity that stayed with her as she paid for her next week's meal, shouldered it and walked back home.

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This story began as a response to the screenshot of the article in the external link. The - lets just say - ignorance of the article and the response to the backlash prompted me to write this story and some more may follow.

Glossary: Amaka means beautiful. This beauty is not just appearance but in a general sense, the overall awesomeness of a person. Common full forms of the name are 'Chiamaka' meaning 'God is beautiful' or 'Nneamaka' meaning 'Mother is beautiful'.

Garri is cassava flakes sometimes prepared with hot water so as to make it mouldable and eaten with native soups.

Win-the- war soup is native soups with only the basic ingredients. This was done during the Civil War to save things like meat and fish for the soldiers. 

Public schools in Nigeria are usually governement founded and are seen as places where not so well off people school. The only reason for this is how little the government cares about the schools now as opposed to when my parents where in school and going to a government school meant that you were smart.

If there is anything else that needs clarification or something you want to discuss, you can always PM me or leave a message on my message board.

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- KC