Life Before a Storm (A Nigerian Story) COMPLETED

Chapter 1

Kpoi kpoi kpoi kpoi, was the sound of a pestle hitting hard.

Mama watched as I wholeheartedly pounded fufu in a large mortar.

"Drop some water let it be fluffy." She said to me.

Beads of sweat coated my face, neck and arms and I let it flow as I did not want to use my fufu stained hands to touch my face.

I hated the musky smell that emanated from the white, soft swallow but I never complained with fear that mama may slap my face. Or Papa would deny me from seeing the ekpo (masquerade) dance festival that was to come up in few weeks.

I come from a small rural area where everybody knows everybody. We were poor but privileged to have two square meals per day.

I was the oldest of three children. Papa was a primary school teacher that earned little that meant nothing. He had little education and few friends.

One of those friends of his was Pa Essien who was a more elderly man. On most occasions he always tells Papa; "have more children. Children are a man's wealth."

This irritated me but I kept mute because younger people were never allowed to speak in the presence of the elderly unless if summoned.
So I silently prayed that Papa never falls under Pa Essien's influence to have children from another woman as this would hurt mama deeply therefore putting the family in a mess.

But I was thankful for Papa as I had also heard him say times without number to his friends that he values the little he has.
Pa Essien had seven children. One of his daughters Idara, being my best friend since childhood.

Mama on the other hand had no education but she was a woman of manifold wisdom. I had seen many women come to her to seek wise words on what to do to keep their home or concerning other matters.

I was not left out. Mama had dragged my ears severally and sat me down to speak sense into my head. These words, she kept repeating; "Stay away from boys. If your belly becomes swollen you will live with the stigma for life."

I finished pounding the fufu. I started plucking and slicing the leaves and watched her as she blew air into the fire, adjusted the firewood and threw chunks of wood into the fire. The fire glowed fiercely.

I could perceive the aroma of stock fish and smoked fish from the blackened pot of soup. I was assisting her to cook edikang-ikong soup with cocoyam fufu.

Some black and brown feathered chickens were walking around, scratching the ground seeking worms from wet soil to devour. Our goats had gone out in search of green grass. Children were outside running helter skelter playing and laughing.

"Give me my thing! Give me my thing!" That was Nsikak, the youngest of my siblings crying and struggling a small play object with our neighbor's child.

"Ima-Obong, bring the plates." Mama said.

Food was ready. I rushed into our thatched house to bring bowls for soup. It was dinner time. I notified Papa and I called Emem my sister and Nsikak my brother. We all sat down on a mat on the ground.

"Let us pray. Father we thank you for this food...." Papa went on.

He had always made us to understand that God is to be acknowledged in all we do. We ate quietly.

I could sense something was bothering Papa as he was unusualy quiet. This was unlike him. He would either commend mama for the good soup or he would bring up an interesting topic for discussion with mama.

I observed as a lump of fufu slide down his throat. His face was stern. We finished eating and Emem packed away the dishes for washing.

"Ima-obong. Eka Ima. I need both of you to come sit with me. There's something I would like to get off my chest." Papa said.

My heart skipped. The last time papa made this exact statement was to inform us of the death of my beloved uncle, his brother. Mama sat beside him while I sat opposite them. Night was fast approaching.

"Ima, I will no longer be able to afford your school fees from next season. And you may not be able to further your education like we planned."

Those words hit my torso harder than a stray bullet. It was my dream to become a medical doctor. That dream was about to die down. I thought. I saw tears well up in mama's eyes.
She blinked and wiped them away with her worn-out, wrinkled wrapper.

Bubbles of words chocked my throat and I fought hard to keep those insane words from wriggling its way out. I looked at papa, his head was hung.

"The headmaster gave me a letter of release. Me and a few others. His excuse was that he would not be able to pay us anymore. He won't risk the school shutting down due to lack of funds." He shrugged.

"We can only hope that there will be better days ahead." He concluded.

"Yes Papa." I said almost unheard as I was too lost for words.

"Ima mi (my love), come." Mama said as she gave me a hug so tight my shoulders felt numb.

It was bad enough that my two younger siblings could not attend school, now I will have to stay at home with them.
That night, I cried myself to sleep.

🤩😎🤩😎🤩😎🤩😎🤩😎🤩😎🤩😎

Hi readers, kindly proceed to the next chapter, and the next, and the next.

This first chapter may seem boring but I promise you the next chapters are the real bomb. 😋😋😋

Please leave some comments, I would love to hear from you. And I beg you in the name of God, do vote.

God bless! 😅

©Maryamada Kasi
2020