In the Loving Arms of Servitude

29. Intervention

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Before the bell rings for break period, Mrs. Obi says, "Uju... meet me in the staff room after the class."

"Okay ma." Uju replies, nodding feebly.
Uju usually does not talk much in class, but she always participates actively. Today however, she looked quite taciturn and distracted throughout the entire class. Mrs. Obi fears that something may have gone awry. She has only known Uju for a short while, but she is very sure that Uju is a resilient girl and that a mere fever could not have debilitated her morale so dreadfully, that her pale face would be this frightening. She looks so dismal and weak. To be honest, she almost looks like a walking corpse. The darkened bags under her eyes are much deeper than usual. And the paleness of her caramel skin is nearly tending towards grey. Mrs. Obi cannot help but feel quite concerned.

Then the bell finally rings and she exits the class.

"Uju, I hope you are feeling better now?" Stella asks in deep concern, as Uju prepares to leave. Uju responds warmly, "Yes, I am. Thank you, Stella."

"No problem." Stella replies and then whispers a bit, "Bayo was so worried about you yesterday. Don't tell him I told you." Then they both chuckle at each other.
Bayo and Uju have not spoken since the beginning of today. He was assigned a new seat on Monday. Mrs. Obi moved him to the back of the class and brought Monica, a chronic talkative forward, so as to properly keep an eye on her. At the moment, Bayo is uprightly seated behind his desk, trying to finish up his notes. And while Uju slowly walks out of the classroom, he subtly follows her movement with his curious eyes until she finally exits, afterwhich he continues writing.

Upon entering the staff room, Uju becomes a bit dazed by how busy the place is. It is a large open hall with four arched sections and several office desks arranged in an organized grid; one for each teacher. It has four doors and several large windows which are generously admitting the sun's luminous rays in through their slightly tint glass louvres. The first section is the most serene of all. Most of the teachers here are middle aged staff, who are either asleep, busy with grading work or writing their lesson notes. The second section on the other hand, is not as calm as the first. But there is still much more decorum in here than the third. The third section of the staff room is where it all happens; discussion, laughing, eating, lounging, making jokes, debates etc. All the teachers here are still very young and vibrant. It is also the place where students who misbehave in class are paraded on a sort of 'walk of shame'. Many students dread this public disgrace in front of all the teachers much more than any other punishment. All the scoffing, eyeing and remarks of disapproval can be quite demoralizing. But for students like Uju, who are known to be of good behaviour, a trip to the staff room is like a walk on the red carpet. As she heads toward the fourth section of the staff room, she keeps on exchanging pleasantries with many of the teachers she is friends with along the way. Upon reaching there, she sights Mr. Olaye first. He is sitting on his desk discussing jocularly with Mr. Phillip, the Agricultural Science teacher. Then she turns toward the left and spots Mrs. Obi's desk at the far end, close to the window. But just as she tries to subtly evade Mr. Olaye, he sights her and calls out loudly,"Uju, the brilliant girl!!! How do you do?"

And it begins.

"Good morning, sir! I'm doing fine, thank you." she replies, increasing her pace a bit. But Mr. Olaye continues, with a beaming smile on his face,
"And please before you go... tell me... What are the three 'C's???"
Uju sighs in frustration. The three 'C's represent the three qualities of an upright person that Mr. Olaye recites to them in class everyday, before he begins his lessons. It is his mantra and apparently theirs now, as well. So although she just feels like bashing her head into the wall right now, she takes a lofty stance, breathes in and recites the response in her best British accent, "The three 'C's are; Candour, Clemency and Fortitude... Although the last one isn't a 'C'. It's an 'F'...!... for failure. That is, if you don't abide by them."
Afterwards, Mr. Olaye bursts into profuse laughter, tapping Mr. Phillip's shoulder continually. Then he gestures at Uju, as though expecting a laugh from her as well. And she obliges him by also bursting into laughter, but in low tunes. Although it is abundantly obvious that Mr. Phillip has absolutely no idea what just transpired, he joins them in their prolonged twitter, during which time Uju exits.

"Good morning, ma." she greets, upon reaching Mrs. Obi's desk.

"Good morning Uju. How are you?" Mrs. Obi responds.

"I'm fine, ma." she replies.
Then sighing a bit, Mrs. Obi removes her glasses and closes the textbook in front of her, "... Uju, I am aware that you fell ill a few days ago. And... I received information from your aunt that you have recovered... is that correct?"

"Yes, ma. I am feeling okay now." Uju replies.

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Obi asks again.

"Yes, ma. I'm alright." she replies.

"Then how come you still look terribly pale?..." asks Mrs. Obi "...Look at your eyes... Look at your face! And in class today, you were so distracted. Is there something going on?" she inquires warmly, although with a sharp seriousness in her eyes.

Uju then tries to broaden her face into a smile, in order to hide her pain. But instead, a surge of emotion begins to permeate her entire being. And almost immediately, she starts to blurt out an uncontrollable series of heavy gasps and bitter tears, "There... #gasps... There's nothing, ma. #gasps... I... #sniffs #sniffs... I'm fine... #gasps."
Uju tightly covers her mouth with both her palms, in a futile attempt to contain her sorrow.

Upon witnessing this outburst of sheer anguish, Mrs. Obi quickly brings out a clean white handkerchief from her purse and hands it to Uju. Thereafter, she looks around to see if anyone else noticed what just happened. But luckily, only a few teachers are in the fourth compartment and none seems to have taken notice. Therefore, she stands up from her chair and goes to comfort Uju, hugging her firmly, "It's alright, dear... calm down. Please, wipe your tears. Don't worry. Everything will be fine. Come. Let's go to a private place and talk."
Uju nods in reply, still attempting to wipe her sorely dismal face. She can barely even utter a word. All she does is gasp while even more tears gush out and Mrs. Obi slowly guides her out of the staff room. But on their way out, Mrs. Obi stops and says to her in a low tone, "But Uju... I have one condition. You have to tell me everything. I am aware of your kind of personality. And I know it will not be very easy for you... But please...You have to promise to tell me absolutely everything. That is the only way I can help."
After hearing this, Uju gasps again and nods in reply.

Thereafter, they both move towards the sealed staircase of the staff room, where no one will be able to hear their conversation. And here, Uju tells Mrs. Obi her entire story, starting with her life before Lagos. In deep pain and frustration, she simply pours out everything; her grandmother's horrible death; her weeks of slavery and utter sorrow at the hands of Obiageli; her initial joy, when she first arrived Amara's house; her life within the house and her devotion to their family; then her vile rape by Femi.

While Uju narrates her heartrending story, Mrs. Obi becomes so overwhelmed by immense emotion and sorrow that she is unable to help weeping bitterly herself. She had initially hoped fervently that she wouldn't cry and that for Uju's sake, she would remain strong. But the story of Uju's suffering is just too much for her to bear. 'How on earth can I help this girl?' she wonders.
They both sit on the staircase for hours talking, contemplating and weeping tortuously in each other's arms; like a desolate mother and child. Mrs. Obi noticed that during most of Uju's ordeal, she sorely lacked motherly love; motherly comfort; that warm embrace that makes a child feel at home; feel secure; feel loved. Ever since Nne's death, Uju has not had that until now.

At a point, they both start to cry so helplessly, that it is almost difficult to tell exactly who is consoling who. But one thing is certain. This conversation is uplifting both their spirits in ways that they never imagined possible. The immense comfort it is bringing Uju alone is unparalleled. And the amount of elucidation it brings Mrs. Obi on the trials of life is worth more than all the gold in the world.

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