The rants of an antsy girl

10/02/2020

Monday

'I should be leaving the city by the 13th. I want double the security and all eyes on my family.' My Dad is saying to Kamaru and Anjola, his two most trusted and longest serving staff.
'So all the security staff should be placed on duty, sir?' Kamaru asks.
'Yes. Around the house. And I want an o' clock vigilance in front of the security cameras.'
'But sir, that will be bad because we are all going to be on a continuous shift. Nobody takes over from anybody. The men will be tired.' Kamaru tries again.
'That is exactly why I have employed them.'
'Phillip!' My mother cuts in, in exasperation. She has on a large headgear and a matching boubou. She is holding a bread on one hand and a knife of butter on the other, temporarily forgotten. Today, she will go to the shop and today, I will meet with Mr Akhere.
'Kamaru, you share the men Into two groups, and alternate the shifts.' She says before my Dad can say a word.
'Nothing bad,' my Dad starts, drinking a glass of orange juice. 'Should come to my family while I'm gone. Anjola, please don't leave my wife or daughter for any reason.' he adds.
'Yes sir.' I can almost smell her guilt off her, she being an accomplice to my sneaking out.
'You may both leave. Meanwhile, Anjola, pack my day suits and two pajamas please. An extra toothbrush too.'
'Are you spending eternity there ni? ' My mother asks.
'What if I am?' He replies snidely.
I brace myself and speak up.
'Can't you not go for this trip, Daddy?'
He shoots me a comically surprised look.
'Why do you keep pushing me not to go? What is your problem?'
'Nothing. Urhm... If.. if it's so important to you Daddy, can't you take a flight?'
'This is why you failed JAMB. Are you so daft to know that there's no airport in Ondo?'
I should have thought of that.
'Stop calling her names. I am equally uneased about this your trip. Give us a break and let us worry.'
He bites into his bread, I tip my glass of juice to my lips.
'I won't stop calling her names.' He starts out of the blue then sits upright on the chair as if to adjust his buttocks. 'My friend, Professor Mettle, he told me that the ratio of poor students and well to do students in Nigerian universities is an average ratio of 9:1 per ten persons. Can you believe that?' Another bite.
'You shouldn't listen to those kinds of things, because they will cause enmity between you and joan.'
'Who cares?' He shouts and chuckles. 'I have a son who is worth ten sons, who will end the tale of poverty in this family and build up the Ofortokun name.'
'Phillip!' my mother scolds.
'I have a daughter who has taken my brain and done wonders with it-'
'Phillip!'
'And you know what Urowoli? I think Joan is the only daughter to take after your kind of brain, so small and hard to get things through.'
I won't cry.
'Phillip Ofortokun! I am done with your insults.' My mother stands and walks of, her bread which is still in its buttering phase, lay on her plate.
I think my Dad has a big head and I want to scream at him. I don't though. I have to persuade him to cancel this trip without telling him about the bombs. I have to earn him and save his life.
'You need to listen to me Daddy. Send one of your boys to go to Ondo. Please.' I sound very earnest and I hope it softens his heart.
He looks hard at me for a while, bites into his bread and sips some juice, then he speaks.
'Let me remind you, Ebiekutan, very soon, JAMB registration will soon start and I will take care of all of that. This is the last time I will do it. Do you think I am pleased with you? With seeing you around when people are making good use of their brains? Until you erase the mark of failure from your forehead, nothing you say to me makes sense.'
He scrapes his chair back and stand, dusting bread crumbs away.
'You should find out what the name Ofortokun means and then, you'll know how much of a disgrace you are. Until then, Good morning.' He ends crisply and walks out of the room, his shoe clicking on the tiles. He begins to shout for my mother who he has offered to drop at the market.
I pack the plates and cups into the kitchen, put the leftovers in the microwave.
Anjola comes in then. She is strange, I realize. Anjola has never married, but she has a son, an accident from her teenage years, a son who is as old as her service in this house.
'You look so sad.' She says and comes to me. I lean on the marble top and fold my hands across my chest.
'I am sad. Tell me Auntie Anjola, how can I stop my Dad from traveling?'
'You can't. Mr Ofortokun is a strong willed man. You can only pray.'
'Why do you all tell me to pray? What is so special about this prayer?'
She looks at me intently and smiles a small smile.
'Come, let me hug you.' I hesitate, then I oblige. Small as she is, her hug is warm, all her hugs are. For a fleeting moment, I remember when we were young, when Anjola would carry us and strap us to her back because my mother wouldn't. My mother had a fashion line then so she was always out for fashion exhibits and shows. I wonder what happened to that business, what made her stop and become a trader.
My mother never knew though that Anjola used to carry us and hug us, because she always thinks Anjola has some insects hiding in her body. I think my mother has just always been jealous that we like Anjola so much than we like her. Once, Anjola knew so much about us that she didn't.
The only thing we three ever agreed on: Myself, Destiny and Laju, was to never let my mother see us hugging Anjola.
I see how much I've drifted from Anjola and I begin to cry into her shoulders, hunched as I was.
'Its okay.' She says softly.
After a few moments, I stop crying and I leave her and sniff. I feel like an over grown baby.
'People who give hugs also need hug, Joan. Of course, I can't ask for a hug from anybody, but when I pray, I get warm hugs that comfort me.'
Seems ridiculous to me. 'You mean, when you cast and bind?'
She laughs.
'Prayer,' she says trying to catch her breath. 'Is not all casting and binding. Prayer is casting your cares on God, and telling him how it's doing you.' I chuckle at the phrase.
'The only reason why people don't like to pray is because of how stressed they feel afterwards. They think it's a ritual, they don't even know God wants to hear their voices.'
'Good morning to you all!' comes Mr Akhere's bored voice. A bead of sweat runs down my spine.
Anjola frowns. 'I don't know who that man thinks he is.' Then she rubs my shoulders affectionately and leaves the kitchen with her arms at akimbo.
I go to him in the small sitting room, the book on which Efosa and I wrote the texts is still lying on the center table. I pick it up quickly, I think he is not looking until he asks what I'm hiding.
'Nothing sir! Good morning sir,' I say quickly and shove the book in between my lesson note.
He locks the door and brings out a past questions text.
'This is Ababio! The great book.'
'I know Ababio!' I snap.
He looks at me coldly and goes back to his warm talk. I want to unlock the door and run away, perhaps, call the security guys to send Mr Akhere away. It strikes me then, I cannot believe I have been so daft and naive. Perhaps Mr Akhere is the texter, I mean, how was he to know that the only room without a camera is this room? The room Anjola asked we use, the room he asked to lock, the room where he robbed me of my sanity. The sinister smile he had on, on the day Anjola asked us to use the room, it seems so real now.
'I want water,' I say. He nods slowly and I dash to the door. I am looking for Anjola. Where has she gone to just now. I check the big sitting room, my Dad's room, my room, my mother's room, Destiny's room, the technical room.
Laundry room.
Dining room.
Lounge.
Kitchen.
'Where is Anjola?' I ask Kamaru.
'I saw her just now, check outside.' I am heading outside, towards the lounge. Today Anjola will sit with me through the lesson.
'Where to?' Mr Akhere emerges in front of me. I bite my toes into the ground. My heart hammers a discordant rhythm inside my chest.
AJ comes out then, he is holding a sausage roll.
'What's going on?' He asks, his voice, doubtful.
Mr Akhere lets off a dramatic sigh.
'She is trying to skip lesson.'
AJ looks doubtful, like his voice sounds, he turns to me.
'Why now?'
I search for answers but luckily Kamaru calls him from the room. He retreats, his blue on black uniform dissolving into the distance.
I want him to stay. Mr Akhere grips my right hand tightly. I have a small wrist, I just noticed.
'Leave me alone! Leave me alone,' I have hiss. I will scream if I can rather than return to the lesson.
'If you scream, I'll kill you.' He says through gritted teeth.
He drags back.
I am going to scream. I will not follow him back to that room. I will do all it takes.
He senses that I am going to scream and he tightens his grip on my wrist and drags me. I hold my grip on the ground, I do not want to budge.
I try in futility to free myself. He shoots me a look that makes my scream stuck in my throat.
I kneel and he yanks me up. I will call for help now. He senses this and shouts.
‘You need to pass JAMB Joan, it's important.’ like he is pleading with me to pass JAMB, like I'm trying to escape.
I start screaming and crying till my voice is hoarse.
The guys come out to ask what is wrong. Mr Akhere tells them I want to skip lesson.
They all lift me up and push me to Mr Akhere.
He closes the door with so much fervour and I know he is livid with anger. I crash into the chairs as he lets me go. Fear clouds my vision in the form of tears.
I kneel and put my palms together, begging.
‘Sir please!’ I beg earnestly in my voiceless voice.
He laughs an unsettling laughter, a uvula laughter. Loosens his belt, ever slowly, ever calculated. I search frantically for my phone. I need to know what time it is, I need to know if it's noon yet, I need to get out of this room.
‘Please, don't even think of banging this door. You know it is futile.’
I have been so foolish, this was a sound proof room. He knows. He lied to Anjola that first day– The noise from her cleaning did nothing.
How come I said nothing? How come I get him ruin me?
No.
I won't allow this.
I run to the door and begin to bang. He drags me back and pushes me into the chairs roughly. My head hits an arm.
His belt is fully loosened.
‘Help!’ I scream.
He slaps me and when I feel my face, it is as if it is no longer there. The slap forces me back, the chair, biting into my back.
Defiance cheered me on.
‘Help!’ A whip. I begin to flail my legs, towards him, kicking the air. He kneels and stills my legs.
‘You are the mystery texter aren't you?!’ I bark. ‘TELL ME!!’
He bound my arms and feet, gags me. I see what I have never seen in his cold eyes before– An animalistic rage, so scary.
I burst into soundless tears, raw and scratchy at the back of my throat. I see my phone where it is, it rings then.
Mr Akhere who is unbuckling his trousers stops, picks it and flings it across the room.
He clenches a fistful of my hair, short as it was. I scream.
How unfortunate that the walls of this room prevent sounds. Whoever designed this place? Cursed be that fellow.
I wrestle to be free, my head screaming with each movement.
He falls over the television that stands beside the centre table, amidst the old settees.
I manage to loose from his grasp. I run to the window and hit the panes desperately, my raspy voice going before my fists.
He drags me from my calves and I slip to the ground and hit my back to the carpeted ground. A rush of dust sifts into the air and then my nostrils.
He kneels beside me and grabs my hair, pulling me to a sit up position. I heave tears.
‘What is this mystery texter you are talking about?’
‘You set this house on fire! You almost killed Zita! You killed Akan,’
He slaps me hard and the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.
He looked genuinely confused.
‘But what do you mean? How could I have set this house on fire when I was in the party?’
He was?
He seems perplexed and distracted, I take this as my chance to escape.
He pushes me back.
I kick and fight, he pushes his weight on me. My screams are a waste.
The last thing I think of is how Anjola and myself had not remembered this room has no cameras and was sound proof. A foolhardy of many years back that presents itself suddenly and taunts me.