The rants of an antsy girl

27/01/2020

Monday

The new home tutor comes to early in the morning, a few minutes before my Dad leaves for work. It is a chilly morning but my Dad keeps complaining about my sweater.
'You look irresponsible! You are about to meet your home tutor, and this is what you wear?'
'He is not the president na,' I grumble beneath my breath.
'What?'
'Nothing.'
'You must learn manners, before I marry you off and you shame the Ofortokun name.'
We walk from the dining room into the sitting room, there is a long narrow lounge in front of the sitting room, immediately after the front door and there are several depressing metal chairs, the type they use in banks that run along the side of the lounge. There is also an air conditioner that never seems to stop working, along with long fluorescent lamps. When I was younger, when my life was beautiful, when I had not failed any JAMB, I used to imagine people sitting on the chairs and I walking in from the front door, I imagine them rising up quickly in respect and hailing me.
I hear it in my head now, 'Great Joan!'. I was such a stupid little girl then, who had not tasted the jam of JAMB.
'He is waiting at the lounge sir,' Anjola says. She is the maid. She cleans and does the washing. Unlike Zita, we get along with her and sometimes when my parents are not in, we assist her.
She's winking at me now and gesturing to the sour look on my Dad's face. I stifle a laugh.
The home teacher is a handsome fellow from far, but when I get closer I see how distasteful he is to the eyes, it's so bad, it leaves an almost real taste of bile in my mouth
His brows are very dark and bushy, closely set on his forehead. He has huge teeth that push out of his poor lips and his complexion is a dirty shade of dark brown.
The most upsetting of all is how his dark hair is sprinkled about his head in tight small coils. It reminds me of goat dung.
'Good morning sir.' He greets as we enter into the lounge. He is too eager and I am guessing it's either to please my unpleasable father or the cold.
'You are Akhere I guess?'
'Yes... Yes sir.'
'This is my daughter, Joan.'
'She's... A bit older than I expected.'
I eye him, it is a bit of problem, but I do it anyway.
My father clears his throat before he speaks. 'Yes. She is going to take her third JAMB.'
When my Dad leaves, Anjola makes us use the smaller sitting room where the old curtains and sofas are. The room that smells like an old library.
The teacher has a funny walk.
He says he will teach the four subjects for my JAMB and also, he will give me exercises then finally, a mock JAMB.
'Also, there will be rules.'
'Rules?'
'Of course.' he answers distractedly. He is looking around the room which is the smallest in the house and most unattractive, given all the old chairs and curtains and that hideous pregnant back television that sits at the centre of the room, amidst the old chairs.
He looks odd sitting on one of the sofas, his legs are too long and his back is stooped, his eyes have no warmth. I shudder.
'Write.' he says to me.
I take out my jotter and pen from my sweater.
'Is this what you intend to use for our classes?'
'Yes.'
'Rule one: No stupid notepads. Do I look like a joke to you?' his sounds angry
'No. It's just a notepad and if you don't want me to use it, you can just say, "don't use it" and I will do exactly just that. No need to make it a rule.'
'Rule two: Don't be rude to me. I have special punishments for rude students.'
I look at him in disbelief.
'You are in my house.'
'True, but you have failed JAMB twice. Believe or not, I am the only tutor who will agree to teach an old woman like you in preparation of JAMB.'
'But I'm just twenty...'
'Rule three: No arguing because I am the teacher.' He interjects obnoxiously. I am surprisingly not annoyed but instead amused by his boldness. He has just come, that too into the house of a wealthy man,to tutor the wealthy man's daughter and he's giving rules? Such effrontery.
'Am I supposed to write down these rules?'
'Yes! Rule four: Don't talk when I don't say you should talk. I told you before, I have special punishments, and I have little patience,' He pinches his hand in the air. 'Very little.'
Everytime he talks, he lets out a spray of spittle on my book and my body. When it is finally time for him to leave, he asks to speak with Anjola.
'I need a favour, sister'
'Go on.' Anjola says briskly. She is as urgent as the vibe her petite stature gives off, like a bird, always wanting to be in some other place other than the present. She even speaks fast, like something is chasing her words from inside her.
'From tomorrow, we'll like to shut the door to the room. The noise from your cleaning disturbs.'
'Does it?' she asks me. I make to talk but Akhere interferes.
'Yes. We had to manage today.'
Since when do strangers shut people down in their own house?
'I will reduce it then, no locking of any doors.'
'You think I will take advantage of her?' he chuckles. When Anjola does not answer, he goes on with his talking.
'Please. I noticed that Joan needs a quieter place to study.'
'I will tell oga.' Anjola says in a tone of finality.
'I don't like his eyes.' She says after her has gone out the door. 'and his talk too. He thinks he's important.'
'I don't like him at all!' I say and stomp off.
'Is good. Iron hand will doing it. Her brain will sharpen.' Zita says behind me.
'I heard that o!'

...

When I enter a bus to my mother's shop, I get another text. It is from the same private number that texted yesterday.

The fool will no longer be called honourable. Give honour to whom it is due.

I dial the number as soon as I alight from the bus. I don't care if it is part of a scam plan, all that is important is that I don't like it.
'Who are you and why are you texting me?' I ask as the person picks on the fourth ring.
The call goes on for a minute and the person does not answer me.
'Won't you talk? Are you dumb? Who is this?' I keep saying till I get to my mother's shop.
'The way you are barking at your phone, someone will soon whisk you away to Uselu psychiatric. I will deny you then. Why are you embarrassing yourself?'
'Good afternoon ma.' I say dumping my bag on the floor as I enter. I still have my phone pressed into my right ear.
'Hello? Hello!' I shout, then give up in frustration. My mother is sitting on a wooden stool, wearing her reading glasses. She is wearing a blue print peplon gown with short arms. I am shocked, mainly because she can wear something this beautiful and also because I have just noticed it. She leaves for the shop early everyday, before I wake up. I don't know why though, we barely have customers.
'Wow. You're looking sweet.'
She smiles, stands up from her chair and turns around, flaunting her dress. My mother enjoys flattery.
'Thank you.' Then she sits and looks at me with all seriousness.
'Why were you shouting into your phone on the road? This place is market o, they will hijack your phone and that's the end o. I always tell you.'
'I know, but it's this person that keeps sending me strange SMS.'
'Let me see,' then she says, 'This is a Bible verse na, Don't you know? Proverbs chapter something verse something.'
'You don't even know it.' I tease.
But unease still fills me, who could be sending this kind of message? I already deleted the last one, I would have shown it to my mother.
'Later, you will check those materials I have bought to celebrate my birthday. What you will do now is to help me calculate all our expenses for the birthday.'
'Our?'
'eh ehn na. Is it only me that will spend? Your father will have to send me fat cheques because this birthday will not be like last year's, when I had to use my own money and your father had the more guests. God forbid!'
By the time we are done, she goes out to look for some other things to buy. Efosa speaks up suddenly from his mother's shop.
'I don't believe I can be so easily forgotten.'
'Oh,' I say in mock sympathy. 'Sorry, Forget me not.'
He laughs and we start talking about random things, about the time he fell into his neighbour's water tank.
Soon enough, I forget the text.