DAYS OF THE ANTS

CHAPTER ONE: THE BEGINNINGS

Lagos, Nigeria.

***

Again

It was a cold dark night without moonlight, in the remote town of Epe where electrical power was temporarily disabled and the swaying branches of significantly big mango and cashew trees, being blown with non-rhythmic movement by the wind from side to side, were the reasons behind the broken potential silence in the squarely fenced compound of the Ibehs.  The street was dark and quiet, but figures of people could be seen, few blocks away where families were able to afford petrol for their generators.  Mr Daniel, a family friend of the Ibehs pulled his car over in front of their residence, turned off the ignition and alighted in such a hurry to reach the main entrance almost in a flash. "yes, who is it?"came an answer from a female voice after Mr Daniel had knocked the wine painted metal door with signs of rust visible at the bottom right angle . "Its I," came the reply and recognizing his voice, the woman unlatches the metallic lock to open the door: This is Mrs Helen Ibeh, the wife of Mr John Ibeh and the mother of their only child Charles. "welcome Sir, please come in," she ushered him. "Oh no no no no no, that would not be necessary for i'm running seriously late and my wife would kill me. Just came by to drop this letter which i collected from the post office yesterday on my way back from work, it's for Charles and I'm truly sorry it could not be delivered sooner."  Mrs Helen's stomach became filled with excitement as she heard the word 'letter': Her son Charles applied for ten different scholarship examinations and four letters had so far been received, all with disappointing news that he did not succeed. The prospect of six more to come gave the family hope that there is a chance to find one that points their only child on a journey to greatness and this feeling always brought an atmosphere of excitement. "Thank you so much Mr Daniel, we are really grateful," appreciated Mrs Helen. Mr Daniel , already retreating to his car, "Its alright, say hi to John for me." Mrs Helen couldn't wait to hand it over  her son and was about to tear it open when a not so glad voice speaks from behind, " Doesn't it say, Confidential?" Charles, although a good boy, neither liked his letters nor news that he could have had first hand relayed to him by someone else. He moves in and snatches the document from his mom and sat on a stool to reveal it's contents. His mother followed anxiously and couldn't wait to hear what it said. Mr John who had been in the shower comes out and asks, "what is all that commotion i hear about a letter, common boy, tear it out." He told his son as his uneasiness was way more than his wife's and son's whose heartbeat rate had by now increased since retrieving the envelope. Charles knew it was either he's got it or he hasn't and the fear of being disappointed the fifth time made his heart pound so hard that one who sat close to him would think it was the reciprocating action of a piston in an engine without sufficient oil to have it lubricated. The letter was from the University of Exeter in the United Kingdom and tearing off the flap of the enclosed envelop, his hands trembled and the sound of his pounding heart became more audible. Mr and Mrs Ibeh's hearts were not relaxed either, the combined pounding of their hearts formed a uniform rhythm that it could make a music beat with an all bass core. The title  was enough to tell the whole story and with one flash of summoned courage, he carefully unwrapped the paper layer by layer until he could see some words he could mutter. His parents watched to see their son's expression, and the tears which rolled down his cheeks gave a clear picture and marked disappointment for them who could only do nothing but console a sad weeping Charles. He had failed the fifth time.

***

Weird

  The Ibeh's home was filled with silence that night. Not that it was unusual for a family of three, but another dashed expectation made every member retire to bed earlier than before, as each lay quietly in thoughts mostly about how much hope and a sense of fulfillment getting that scholarship would have  presented.
   
    Mr Ibeh was a pensioner whose entitled payments were not forthcoming. He had worked as a civil servant all his life, and attempts to get another job to sustain his family had proved a hard nut to crack. He lives of working as a computer hardware technician for interested neighbors -- which was what he actually did as a civil servant -- but customers were scarce and life was difficult. His wife was both a seamstress and school teacher who carried most of the family burden, although she never complained, she sometimes wished her husband was still financially capable. They could hardly pay their son's fees who was studying Computer Science at Livingstone College -- a college in their neighborhood -- so the prospect of a scholarship was his only real foreseen chance to acquire quality University education.