A Loner's Journey Through Lemonade Making

Chapter 22|

If I said I was shocked to know Uncle Blessing had concubines, that would be telling a lie from the pit of hell.
Nobody, not even Aunty Mariah who had only been with us for a few months, was surprised. It was something we all knew, yet tried to discourage ourselves from believing was true.

Aunt Nelo was angry. She kept pacing and talking about how she could beat Mary into coma if she came to the house again. Aunty Oma simply clapped and laughed, giving the impression that she was somehow shocked to know her husband was unfaithful to her.

As all that was none of my business, I didn't let it bother me or stop me from reading doggedly for my exams which started in the beginning of the eleventh week and ended that Friday. In that one week, Mary still came to visit from time to time. I assumed the only reason Aunty Oma was cool with her coming around was because she'd told us her story, how she lost her parents and joined the dating app where she met Uncle Blessing to find money bags. Apparently, he'd wrote in his bio that he needed a young girl to take out and have fun with because his wife was rarely available. Aunty Oma was home most times. She only went to her bakery when her expertise was really needed or whenever she had to do major things. And other times, she partied with the Island Wives, her 'friends'. Mary knew she wasn't the only side chick, but as long as she cashed cheques and shopped regularly, she couldn't care. After all, she wasn't married to him and would never marry such a man.

Those were my thoughts this Monday morning as I took spoon after spoon of my custard. I was present bodily but absent minded. It was two days to the debate and a week to the end of the term. I was beyond excited to start counting down to the day I wore my skirt to school, but when I thought about the exams I would have to write to get there, I became dispirited.

That's true, I thought, sitting up and dropping my spoon. I counted each exam with my fingers. BECE, Placement exams, my bi-weekly tests and end of the term exams.

Ugh.

I finished my breakfast, washed up, collected my lunch from the kitchen and left.

I wasn't able to go to class once I got to school because assembly had already started. So when I went after assembly, I dropped my bag, greeted my friends and went to the music room, which was where we had our rehearsals.

Leilah was seated among the seniors, reading her notes while the seniors took turns giving their points. The junior boys were playing with pens and touching musical instruments—quite typical. Their girls sat in a circle, plaiting the loose ends of their cornrows. I took my seat and started looking through my note.

Mr Muiz and Mrs Enenche, one of the Literature teachers came a few minutes later and we rehearsed for an hour. I'd gotten significantly better at public speaking and was more comfortable talking to others. Leilah was way better but I wasn't jealous of her anymore. Different strokes for different folks.

We'd been told to type our points out and copy it on a flash drive so it could be printed for us. I didn't own one, so I'd asked Muna to lend me hers.
I collected the sheets from Mr Muiz and was going to Mrs Enenche to staple them when a senior bumped into me.

"Argh!" I groaned as I stood up from the floor and began picking the pieces of paper up.

"I'm so sorry." he apologized, shooting one of his mates a death glare. He picked the rest up for me and I got them stapled.

I left angrily, hissing at their childishness.

☆☆☆☆☆

We didn't have classes anymore because exams were over, so all we did was play and talk all day.

Safia and Munachi were talking about this show called Say Yes To The Dress. Ibidun was talking to Lolu who weirdly, had come to her to have a conversation. I on the other hand, was finishing the last chapter of yet another book I'd gotten from the library, Why You Act The Way You Do. I was determined to take my self-discovery journey seriously. I'd been reading books and articles and assigning temperaments to my friends. I was yet to assign one to Safia because she was incomprehensible and complex in my opinion. Her facial expressions were difficult to interpret most times and she never gave too much personal information away whenever she spoke. Something told me there was a lot to her that no-one really knew and I was determined to find it out.