After we were done with the kitchen, she called us into her living room to watch television.
Her sitting room was marvelous with colourful couches made of nylon like material nothing like the old cloth coated mostly torn chairs in our sitting room.
She scrolled through the DSTV stations and finally put a foreign series for kids titled “HOME ALONE” we laughed as we watched it. While she sat on the longer couch feeding her baby.
The movie was already half way when we heard a knock on the door, it was be mama, I whispered to obinna.
He looked at me with a slightly frowned face, as if he doesn’t want to leave. Mrs. Amala got up and headed for the door. I could hear her exchanging a welcome greeting with someone, so I took a peep through the window and say mama.
Then i knew it was time to go. I called on obinna and we headed towards mama. She thanked Mrs. Amala as we bid her farewell.
As we left, I wished I could go back and finish the movie we were seeing. On getting home Ada was already unpacking the bag they came back from market with. Obinna headed straight for the bathroom, while I sat with Ada gossiping with her on how our stay at Mrs. Amala’s house was. While she told me on how interesting and frustrating going to the market was.
the stress, pushing, noise, and the most annoying part was getting to see all those wonderful clothes and shoes and not getting any. But the end she was happy mama took her along for the first time. She has always wanted to experience that before she turns 16 next year.
Unpacking took much time because they bought a lot of things and I could only imagine how they both carried all those bags on their own. But Ada had told me that mama paid a barrow man to help carry the bag to where they boarded a “KEKE NA PEPE” which brought them home.
They bought lot of food stuffs and books for next term schooling and some material for uniforms, bags, stocking, and sandals. It was fun unpacking as mama shared the school materials amongst us.
She took Ada and Obinna’s measurement for the new uniform. While I cheerfully packet my own properties in the new school bag, wondering if papa actually paid for all these or mama borrowed the money to buy them. But who cares what matter is that I have them now and no taking them back. We all sat in the room writing our name on the books before dinner.
September 12th was the general resumption day after the holidays. All nurseries, primary and both secondary schools resumes that day. Ada would be entering SS 1 while obinna would enter JSS 3 and I, JSS 1.
I had written my common entrance and has gained admission into new era secondary school, it was a mixed school and different from where Ada and Obinna schools but not very far away.
I was very happy I would be entering secondary school.
Had always admired the jumpsuit, white stripped stockings and well polished shoes commonly called cotina in school around the east.
It are being worn by most secondary school students and how neatly ironed their uniforms usually are every morning as they go to school. It has always dreamt of when I would be like them with lots of anxiety and courage, at times; I would beg ada to tell me stories of secondary school at night.
she would say that its senior gist and I have no business knowing them.On the day of resumption mama woke us up very early to prepare for school, Ada and obinna were to go on their own to their respective schools, while mama took me to mine. To help in the registrations, getting of school uniforms, some text books which were to be provided by the school, location of my class room, acquiring a very good locker and chair for me.
On getting there, lots of people where already present, students both old and new and parents who also came to help their newly admitted children in settling down just like mama. The old students where all lined up in the assembling ground waiting for the assembling to commence.
Assemblies on resumption days are normally long because of the long speeches, welcome notes and advises accompanied with instructions been given to the students.
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Visible Essence
Non-FictionVivian Benjamin you are a rare gem. I don't know what is keeping you back but keep fighting honey you will win one day. this story is dedicated to my sister and every Nigerian out there. we can't kill ourselves ooo but we will keep pushing because w...