The First Time

BRING HIM HOME!

     "Hei! Nwa a Mara mma oo. This girl you too fine. Abeg, give me your number make I call you to relate small naa," the okada man prattled as he dipped his hands into his pocket to retrieve his bundle of money, batting his eyes seductively.
      "Abeg give me my change. I don't have time for these useless talks," Nneoma replied indignantly. But the okada man ignored her rebuffs.
         "Na crime for me to chyke fine girl like you? Na because say I no carry jeep? Nawa for girls of nowadays ooo. Everything is money, money," he chanted looking pitiful.
         "Haaaa! Oga take am easy, who talk money now? Give me my change jare, I no get your time," she snatched the money from his hands turning to leave without further ado. The ruffled, bearded, dark okada man kept shouting, "lekwa ukwu ooo," as he licked his lips hungrily, watching her enter the house. This was not the first time Nneoma had this kind of encounter with commercial cyclists fondly called Okada men in Nigeria. Sometimes, she felt slighted and insulted by their amorous advances. How could they, after scrutinizing her from head to toe, think she would stoop so low as to give them her number, let alone succumb to their lustful advances. What do they have to offer? Being an excellent fresh graduate of the outstanding University of Nigeria, Nsukka (UNN), what business had she with Okada men? God forbid! She almost shouted as she stepped into her parents' sitting room.
    "Nneoma, is that you? What are you forbidding?" Mrs Chigozie Ezegwu sat on her cushion peeping curiously at her daughter.
   "Is it not these bike men, always trying to hang their clothes where their hands cannot reach," she said, dropping her handbag blearily on the other chair, her buttocks following suit.
     "I understand what you mean my dear. Don't mind them," her beautiful, fair skinned, classic mother, dressed in her red flowery home attire gown and lying down on the long sofa, said giving her a riveted look.
     "Ehe, how did it go, Are you finally through with your clearance? And when did they say your call-up letter will come out?" She asked, as she turned down the volume of the television she was watching so that she could listen to the details clearly.
     "Mummy, can you imagine the these people told me to go and wear affidavit for the one year teller I lost? I mean, couldn't they just look for the duplicate and save me the stress and the money? Five hundred naira, Mummy. Just imagine! What a system! I must leave this country whatever it takes." Nneoma's voice shook with anger.
Since 8'oclock in the morning she left to complete her school fees  clearance, she had not tasted water and then, it was almost 5pm and she was so hungry she could swallow a horse.
      "Take it easy. It's the system. Things will be better." Her mum encouraged.
     "That is what we have always have been told since we were children. Things will be better, things will be better! When will they get better? Okay, take this clearance of a thing, for example, one has to stand in the queue for hours just to append a signature. Nigeria claims she has attained high growth in Information and Communication Technologies, why can't we do these things online then? Imagine, after students had retrieved invoices and paid school fees online, the school will still request bank tellers. For what? People can forge these things these days. And what is the fate of those students who have lost all their bank tellers?"
    "Will they swear for each of the four years?" Her baffled mum supplied, sitting up to stare at her daughter in stupefaction.
     "Yes! And that is a sum of two thousand, five hundred naira including that of the acceptance fee teller. That is not all! They also told us to pay four thousand naira before collecting our call-up letter?"
     "Are you serious? When did that one start?"
    "Mummy, it's the in- thing now, the system is really in a huge mess. Things really have to improve, if not, we will all be dead before the next ten years," Nneoma spoke with fire burning passion evident in the fierce tone of her voice.
     "You see, if only you had married Kenneth when he came for your hand, you would have been an Australian by now, and you would have saved yourself and us this stress!" She said in regret, looking at Nneoma petulantly.
       "Mum, pls don't start. How did you expect me to marry at the age of eighteen, when I was in first year? Since he could not wait for me, he was not meant for me," she defended herself for the hundredth time suddenly feeling awful.
      "Don't tell me that nonsense. What about ifeoma and Nkechi your friends? They are married with children. Nneoma, when will you be ready to get married? What about Ben, the businessman who came yesterday to seek your hand in marriage that you rudely rejected? Nneoma, what is wrong with you?" Mrs Ezeugwu sounded very resentful, gazing at her perplexed daughter seated next to her. She wasn't done yet.
"How many suitors have you had this year? Seven? Eight? Or is it over ten men? Rich men for that matter and you've refused all of them, all because of that useless poor boy, Emeka. I have told you countless times, that boy will never marry you. He is still a student for Christ's sake and he is too young," she raged.
      "He is not a student. He just graduated like me. He will soon find a job.....," she wanted to defend her boyfriend but her mother cut short her words.
      "Soon find a job, my foot! Wait are you still dating him?" She asked, examining her daughter for signs of truth.
     "Oh you are still going out with him after I told you to break up with him? Look, Nneoma, your father and I can no longer tolerate this stubbornness. We are giving you three months from now to choose a man and bring home to us; if not....," she threatened, and not finding her daughter's love choice funny anymore.
    "But mummy, it's not fair. How can I get a husband before three months?" Nneoma, surprised and disturbed by her mother's outburst, asked.
    "I am not joking. Go and ask your father upstairs. How old are you, Nneoma? Twenty-three years! You have graduated, what are you waiting for? Tell me, are you waiting till you are thirty years before you settle down? God forbid! Not in this house not my own daughter!" She raked up strongly with desperate eyes.
     "If you don't choose a man by then, we will help you out, since you don't know what you want," she concluded, picking up the remote control and increasing the volume of the television.
    "But mummy...." She cried.
     "Go and boil beans for dinner," her mother interrupted. "Call Chinemerem to help you and don't forget what I said. By December, I am expected to start sending invitation cards. Nkem o ga-adi iche bikonu? Will my own be different?" She asked rhetorically, fixing her gaze back on the TV, paying no heed to whatever protest Nneoma had to make. Nneoma sat there, motionless, staring at her mother as though she was seeing her for the first time. Was this her mother? Her sweet, solicitous, kind hearted mother who made sure she never lacked anything in school? What had come over her and what kind of iniquitous blackmail was this?
   Nneoma was sure her father would never consent to this madness. After all, he was the person that advised her against marrying Kennett, reminding her that marriage should be the last thing on her mind at such a tender age. And against her mother's will, she had disconnected every contact she had with Ken, who had gone ahead to marry someone else and they had traveled back together to Australia after their wedding. Well, too bad Ken was such in haste to get married. She wasn't ready and he was too desperate, it was as simple as that.
   She took the stairs in this as she ran to the balcony in search of her Dad. She found him reading a newspaper.
"Nneoma, you are back. How did the clearance go?" He removed his glasses to regard her.
  "Fine, Dad. Mummy just told me something, and I want to know  if you're aware" she said anxiously, praying her Dad would be oblivious of the coercion.
  "Oh! Women! She couldn't even wait for you to freshen up before telling you. Get a side-stool and come over here and sit," he motioned, dropping his newspaper at a corner.
As Nneoma went to get a chair, she felt a sense of foreboding that everything her mother told her was true.
   "You know, ever since you were born, you have never lacked anything. Your mother and I have done everything possible to make sure you are comfortable, so that you won't be misled by any man. All these things are all because we love you and want the best for you. Do you understand?" He asked her.
   "Yes sir," she was excepting the worst.
    "And as your father and a man who has experience, I want you to consider getting, at least, engaged before you go for camp, that is, three months from now. I know the kind of temptation young girls like you go through during the service year and I don't want you to experience that. I want you to be secure before travelling to a no-man's- land. Do you understand?"
     "Yes sir," she replied obediently.
     "So then, I think it's best for you to pick a man amongst the many asking to be your husband. A woman is like a perishable product in the market; the longer it stays without purchase, the less valuable it gets. You are a beautiful girl and you may think that because of your beauty, you can marry at any age you like but I must tel you this. Every woman has a prime time. Beauty fades with time and it is at this time, when you feel the most beautiful, that you will get the best husband," he cleared his throat, then continued, "Therefore, I believe that this moment or your life is the time for you to get seriously engaged. Take this period of three months you are in the house to make your choice. I would want you to do your marriage introduction before you go for camp," he said the words slowly but impactfully.
     "But Dad, three months is too short. We are talking about a life partner here," she objected.
      "I know, but did you know that I married your mother a month after we met?" He disclosed cheerfully.
    "Are you serious?" Nneoma was taken aback by that disclosure. The love that her parents shared was too strong to have been built in a month.
   "Completely serious. I knew she  was my wife the first time I saw her. It usually happens that way. You always know the one," he answered, his eyes looking as if his thoughts were far away
      " I want the same thing for you Nneoma. Look at your elder sister, she is happily settled in her husband house. I don't want any of my children to stay beyond 23 years before getting married, do you know why?"
        "Why? She asked anxiously, his words penetrating into her system.
   "Because early marriage is good. You have your kids in time and grow old with them. Look at your mum and me, looking as fresh as newly wedded couple, even after having the six of you. Don't you want that?"
   "I do, Daddy. It is just that I'm confused."
   "You don't need to be confused. Pray to God and tell him what you want. He will your grant you your heart desires. Then consider all these men around to know which one matches up to your expectations. Don't forget, you have three months to do that, " he said with finality, placing his glasses back on his eyes.
       "Yes Daddy. Thank you," she said, heading for her room.
   "Chinemerem! Chinemerem!"  She called her younger sister as she entered the room.
  "Yes sister!" Chinemerem answered from the library, running to meet her.
  "Good evening. You are back," she asked, smiling sheepishly.
   "No. I'm not back, it's my spirit," Nneoma answered sarcastically.
   "Okay, spirit, welcome, how did it go?" Chinemerem asked, still smiling deviously, bouncing on top of the bed, hands akimbo with two round eyes fixed on Nneoma.
    "Ask the gods, okpo. I'm hungry, what did you people cook this afternoon?" Her tonel was moody and angry.
    "Abeg don't transfer your aggression to me," she laughed, bending down to hold Nneoma tightly on the waist, her face on Nneoma's tummy.
    " I will be your chief bridesmaid ooo. I will be your chief bridesmaid ooo," Chinemerem sang as she  pulled her elder sister side to side friskily.
    "Stop it this idiot, I will be your own chief bridesmaid, olodo," Nneoma spoke disconcertedly, squeezing Chinemerem's hands free from her waist.
   "Mummy said your wedding will be held in December, five months from now. I will be your wedding planner. Let's make a list of  the number of Asoebi's you will have," she continued pulling her, ignoring her remonstrations.
  "Bia nwa a, I will beat you oh. You no longer have respect for your elders. Leave me alone now!" She yelled authoritatively.
  "Shout all you want, all I know is that your friend charity will not be in your bridal train oooh. She is too snobbish, I don't like her," Chinemerem joked, now jerking Nneoma up and down.
   " I will kill somebody here oo" Nneoma shouted, dragging an iron hanger from the wardrobe to hit Chinemerem's hand but before it landed on her, Chinemerem ducked, giggling hysterically on the bed.
  "Idiot, Nneoma's lips twitched in a corner, her hormones overpowering her brain.
   "You must laugh today oo" Chinemerem said determinedly, standing up to tickle her sister who grudgingly let out a thunderous laughter.
   "Okay, okay, you've won. I'm no longer angry. But wait ooo, which Asoebi are you talking about? Did you dash me any husband?" She asked scornfully, pulling off her clothes to go and have her bath.
   "I will dash you one if you don't bring one for us in three months' time."
Nneoma's smile turned into a frown again.
   "So you know everything"
     "I heard everything. Should I feel pity for you? I think they are right," she pointed out, suddenly getting serious too.
   "Right my foot! See who is talking. What do you know about marriage?"
   "I didn't say I know anything but what are you waiting for? You are a graduate!" She clearly supported their parents.
   "Don't worry, very soon, you will graduate and you will feel what it's like to be in this kind of situation."
   "Really, then I can't wait. Tell those men to start coming for me now ooo," she threw her hands in the air, dancing and twisting her tiny waist and legs.
   "You are sick! Please go get me my food before I faint here. I'm so tired," Nneoma winked at her, showing that she was pleading and not commanding her.
   "Ehe and mummy told me to tell you to cook beans for dinner," Nneoma added innocently as she walked to the bathroom door.
   "It's a lie, Nneoma. This is what you do everyday but I have caught you today. I heard when she was telling you to cook it. She only said I could help. Let's go and ask her."
  "Oh! Okay! Oya, please help me and Cook today, I'll Cook tomorrow," completely beaten Nneoma pleaded, pressing her two hands together in demonstration.
  "I will hold you on that promise. Let me go before mummy starts shouting," Chinemerem said as she hopped away to the kitchen.
  "I did not make a promise ooo, nwa! I said 'maybe'. You don't know your elders abi," she closed the door and listened as Chinemerem murmumed away.
Chinemerem was not only a sister to Nneoma, but also her best friend. Among all of her siblings they were the closest. Anyone who didn't know them, would think they hated each other when they larked around but at a deeper look, one would clearly notice that their manner of communication was the bedrock of their sisterhood.
Sometimes too, people thought they were twins, even though she was older than Chinemerem by three years. They wore the same clothes as they were almost the same size. Nneoma was shorter and slimmer because Chinemerem took after their mother's tall and huge figure in contrast to their father's, which was average and lanky.
  Nneoma could not understand why she loved Chinemerem that much, as against the way she felt about Ifebuche, the eldest child. She had never felt close to Ifebuche and was yet to develop a connection with her. She had only paid one visit to her since she got married, and that was the time she gave birth. It was either because of the autocratic way Ifebuche treated her when they were little or the six years gap between them.
Ifebuche neither allowed her to touch her belongings nor to enter her room without permission. She bullied her around and always yelled at every little thing she did. Ifebuche treated her like a mother than a sister, although that motherly love was missing.
  Anyway, that could never be compared to how close she and Chinemerem were. They barely quarreled; they understood each other perfectly, despite the age gap, Nneoma mused as she splashed the cold water on her body. The water felt very refreshing and seemed to drain her worries away. She had a lot on her mind, like how she was supposed to break up with Emeka, the guy she begun to date in her first year at school. They had met at the school library when she went to collect her library card. He had caught sight of her standing in the long queue and motioned her to come and stand in front of him and during that period of waiting, they kicked off a conversation that made them know they were in the same class. Afterwards, he had accompanied her to her hostel and from there, they started an innocent and platonic relationship. Emeka knew much about her; her dreams and ambitions in life, her favorite colors and foods, her most interesting moments and her challenges academically, and some other things her parents would never know about her.
  Throughout their four years in school, he pulled her through difficult times and rejoiced with her whenever good tidings came her way; like when she had a carryover in Dr Obumselu's course. Instead of condemning and criticizing her, he had encouraged her, reminding her of how cruel the lecturer was. He had tutored her and when she re-wrote it, she had a B. He was her rock, her solid foundation and he loved her. He had never pushed her for sex; he even helped her to preserve her virginity till date.
  But her parents were right. She would never be able to marry him. She wanted him to grow, mature and not revolve his  world around her. They were the same age and he had good potentials. His future was shinning bright, especially after emerging the best graduating student with a first class degree in the department, Economics.
   If she waited for him, she would tie him down. He would be too much in a hurry to grow up, to please her, and when they were married for probably five years, he would grow to resent and hate her, for suppressing his attitude.
  Besides, she had never for once imagined herself in a sexual bond with him. She knew that sometimes, she felt something for him; heart racing and knee weakening, especially when he told her sweet things but there was something missing. Her heart lacked something. She could not place her fingers on them but she knew she didn't want to spend the rest of her life wondering what that thing was. It was time to seek out that adventure.
  Imagine! For four years, she had never shared a kiss with Emeka, she had never felt the urge. Once he had attempted to do it, she had resisted, telling him she was not ready for that. It was too sad because he was the only one she had ever dated in her 23 years of life. She had broken up with him several times but it only lasted not more than an hour. He always came crawling back.
  Another reason she thought her parents were right was that sometimes she felt ashamed of him, standing with him and talking with him in public. He was tall, fair and handsome but when they initially kicked off the relationship, she always denied that they were dating until people began to see them everywhere together. They were even awarded, "The Best Couple" on their final year dinner night. She wasn't always happy when people called her his girlfriend, except when they talked about his intelligence.
   Moreover, Emeka bragged a lot. He was never mellow about his excellent performances. He always blew his trumpet at every given opportunity. At such moments, she would always feel like melting away so no one would know she was his girlfriend.
  Her problem was how to break up with him. Sending him a text or calling him would be so childish. She had to do it maturely, face-to-face. She started to feel little pains in her head as she poured the last drop of water on her body. She gathered her toiletries, tied her towel and stepped out of the bathroom to behold her mother sitting on her bed.
  "Nneoma, come and sit down," her mum patted the next space to her.
   Not again! Nneoma screamed inwardly, hadn't she had enough for the day?
Drying her body slowly, she dutifully sat next to her mum, who was giving her an apprehensive look.
  "Don't be angry at the way I spoke to you earlier. I was just annoyed over your adamant refusal to see reasons with us," she explained.
   "Don't worry mum, I understand. I will think over what you have told me. Let's pray everything will go as planned," she stated blankly at the door.
  "It's not about praying Nneoma. It's about doing everything you can to get a good man for yourself," she said, turning her back to retrieve some books.
"Take these books. Read them carefully; they will help you to decide who to love. Don't worry about a thing, God will take care of you," she smiled broadly, holding Nneoma close to  her.
"Thank you ma. I will read them," she smiled back.
  "That's my girl. Now rest a bit. Your sister is almost done with the cooking. Come and join us later," she said and left.
  Nneoma stared at the three books in front of her. Relationship books! She suddenly felt trapped, like she was suffocating in a burning house. Did she need to read these three bulky books to make a choice of life partner in three months! Lord help her! She felt like she was going on a war zone of 3,000 warriors and that those three books contained secrets on how she would single handedly defeat all of them.
  Her head had begun to spin now, so she decided to wear her night gown and take a nap before she fell into a deep sleep, abandoning the food Chinemerem had set on the table and oblivious of the incessant buzzing of her cell phone.