The rants of an antsy girl

12/02/2020

Wednesday

Being overwhelmed is expected, especially since someone is out to kill my Dad. It is different story however when being in this room is eerily uncomfortable. Like something bad has happened here that I cannot really remember.
It is strange because I seem to have forgotten most of what happened on Monday, I can only see flashes and hear my own cries, so real and so scary. I can hear Mr Akhere's voice.
I know he did something bad, but I cannot remember what. But I feel as if, if I do remember, I may not tell. I remember remembering what happened on Monday, yesterday, but it is strange, I cannot remember, there are so many gaps.
I remember something has led to my injuries but I don't know if it is really a fall. It seems a lie and a truth all the same. The confusion is enough to kill me, but for this strange text with it's poorly constructed sentences.
Also, another thing that stops me from worrying on why I cannot remember Monday is hiding Efosa and keeping him hidden- it is the only reason I can swallow my fears and stay in this room.
I don't know why I feel weird in it.
It is three a.m and since my mother's anointing church, the one we attend when she feels good about life, are against coffee. For some strange reason, they have resorted to calling it The devil's drink of the last days because according to them; it pollutes your body which is God's temple, and robs you if sleep, hence causing you to miss the Divine revelation of God concerning his sheep. I still don't know why we go there at all, my mother is not dedicated, she just likes to stay and have some church gossip to hear and talk about, and mostly to awe the poorer women with her lavish clothes.
For this sake, we don't have any coffee at home, In it's stead, we have lots and lots of kegs of palmwine and pawpaw juice.
We go for pawpaw juice because Efosa doesn't take palmwine in large quantities, plus we need to keep drinking to stay awake.
Body throbbing mercilessly, I go to and fro the kitchen, fetching jugs and jugs of pawpaw juice, I cannot stand it's taste but I don't know how much glasses I have had. Sooner or later, I will drown from too much juice.
So far, we have been able to deduct from the texter's stupid cryptic text that he wants rolls of money, specifically notes with two heads, one thousand naira notes, which for a strange reason, he tags as duo heads of literate illiterates.
Chai!
Poor heads of Dr Clement Isong and Alhaji Aliyu Mai-bornu. I don't even know who they are in history, I may have heard it in school, but I don't pay much attention in class. The texter though, seems to know enough about them to call them literate illiterates.
He must have thought hard enough to come up with such a bogus text.
Currently, Efosa is whispering furtively to my battered phone- a terribly cracked screen and malfunctioning one, trying to talk to Google assistant, trying to search: A bag of unmistakable elegance, with a mark of approval as it's logo.
Pointless, I'll say. Google assistant hardly even understands my accent. Once I said;
'Google, who developed the crypto currency exchange and the block chain?'
It translated, 'Who danger looped crypto currency exchange and then blocked shane.'
I was so frustrated. I still am.
Suddenly I'm thinking of Destiny and I am trying to remember how he looks like, how he relates with us, what he likes and doesn't and it makes sense suddenly.
The texter happened to have hidden those bombs, in Destiny's room and had asked me to specifically check his box.
I cannot remember what box it was, I feel hazy and confused. How come I don't remember. I only have memory blanks in exams, not in real life.
'What box was it?'
'What?' Efosa yawned. Apparently, my phone had dismembered his brain's sharpness.
'The-' On a second thought, going to the room, even though I want to unsee those horrors, seems reasonable. I haven't smelled Destiny's room since that day.
'Wait here and don't move. If anybody knocks, don't open. It my be my dad doing his night walk.' He doesn't trust the security or even himself to sleep soundly and throughout the night these days.
He nods and reclines on the chair, his battered slippers still on.
'Is that Nike?' I ask.
'Yeeees. Aba made.' He groans.
I clap my hands in elation, no need to see those terrifying bombs! That are still surreal by the way.
'A Nike bag!'
He sits up, wide awake, though his eyelids still droop.
'Yes. I never reasoned it. A Nike duffle bag. Does Nike deal in bags?'
'Well yes, I think so. They should, I mean why not, they make slippers and shoes so they-'
'Okay I understand. The problem now is getting a Nike bag. Even people that sell Aba made are not awake, like we ought. Instead of drinking pawpaw juice.'
Destiny!
'I'll have to still leave you eventually, My brother is obsessed with Nike. He should have one.'
When I get to the room, a bag, perfectly fitting description is waiting on his shelf. I am about to take it and leave before my eye can catch a glimpse of the bombs, but curiosity catches me on the throat and drags me to the wardrobe robe.
I check the shoebox and the walls, they are free, no bombs.
'What?' I trail.
I leave as fast as I can and run to the small, soundproof sitting room.
'Now what?' I say, as I lock the door behind me. Efosa rouses, and rubs his eyes miserably. Poor Efosa. God forbid someone, especially my father, comes to know of his sleep over. It is stupid on my part, on both our parts to even think of solving this mystery over the night.
For a moment I am scared, but it passes.
'Even your whisper is loud!' He complains, stretching his neck.
'What do with the bag?' I urge and plop down beside him.
'According to the text,' Efosa says wearily, opening my pathetic phone. I really feel a stab of guilt dragging him here to help me with what absolutely has no business with him. Capitalizing on his frequent inability to refuse someone of his kindness. I suppress it, saving my Dad's head is more important to me.
'Crammed neatly into a bag of unmistakable elegance. He says to cram the bag neatly with one thousand naira notes. In other words, fill it with crisp nairas.'
I feel a surge of disgust and anger rolled into one.
'Who does this buffoon think he his?' Efosa only sends me a blank look of tiredness.
'I think the important thing now is HOW to fill this bag with money.' He says at last.
Ever since I discovered that my Dad's save is money, I made a vague mental plan, one that I will not tell Efosa. He is steel when it comes to righting a wrong with another wrong. Even getting him to convince his mother to let him off for the night, and even convincing himself had been painfully tasking- series of disjointed, annoying reasons on why what should happened how.
Of course, I will lie to Efosa. He thinks my parents feed me money because of the Ofortokun fortune but I can use that to my advantage and make him believe that I am some kind of multi-millionaire, and I have heavy wads in my bank. Easy, believable.
Now he has bought it. He thinks I'm a very loving daughter who loves her daddy.
I don't love my Dad, I just don't want him dead.
What I will infact do, is to get a hold of my mother's iPad, transfer some certain amount to my account and erase every trace. By the time she finds out, it will be a question of how rapid her age is coming on her that she do easily forgets things.
I don't feel it is the right thing to do, but at least, it is for the right source.
When it is six, Efosa goes into my room to wash his face and I lurk in the hallway, waiting for the right time to steal away my mother's iPad. I don't really know her schedule but I gather that she is preparing for her bath which is taking too long. I cannot understand why she doesn't just throw a towel on and walk into the bathroom. Instead, she goes about looking for the right toothpaste for the day. If I am guests right, today being Wednesday, is Sensodyn day because she will visit one of her market friends who sells icy cold drinks.
If my mother's life was dependent on her ability to be unpredictable, she would be long dead.
Once her bathroom door clicks shut, I go in and avoid the camera at all cost, I try my best but my clumsy movement, caused by the numbing pains, may have caused a part of me to show In the camera.
I find my trophy laying innocent on her bedside drawer. Unlike my dad's room, my mother's is a chaotic blend of different colors, not undermining the unbalanced effect of her carelessly kept things.
Mothers should be the orderly ones but my Dad is the orderly one.
I grab the iPad and switch it on, one great thing about my Mother is the fact that she doesn't believe in passwords and pincodes for her devices.
I am sure my mother never foresaw the possibility of me stealing her money when she readily gave me her bank pin. She is boring, her pin is just four zeros, even small children can guess that.
I check her account balance first, it's feedback is dizzying- so many zeros. It is a pity that I don't know how many figures make up a million and a billion.
Perhaps this is one of the edge my righteous sister, Laju has over me. Knowing numbers, having a big brain.
I think for a short moment, how much money would fill up the bag? Two hundred thousand? I doubt.
I go for seven hundred and fifty thousand. I don't know why, by seven hundred and fifty thousand naira sounds like the kind of amount my mother would withdraw at once.
When I get the debit alert, her balance doesn't seem to have shaken a bit.
I wonder if it's the shop, but I am not all that stupid, some days, we count give pieces of two hundred naira notes as overall sales for the day.
This shouldn't bother me now, by the way, if my mother steps her foot from her bathroom, I would not be able to explain or lie.
Tears pour out of my swollen eye. It seems to have reduced a bit.
I clear up any trace of mischief from the iPad and proceed to leave when my Dad pops in talking, he isn't looking.
'I can't find my singlet, Urowoli,' He is saying.
Better to speak up before getting caught.
'Good morning, Daddy.' I say, following it up with the most nervous kind of laugh.
'Wow, Ebiekutan, I can see you are stronger. How are you?' he seems unusually warm. Maybe it is his early morning programming. He doesn't even sound curt and sarcastic, in short, he looks weird in his pajamas, without his suits.
'Fine sir.'
'Where is your mother?'
I nod towards the bathroom.
'I am looking for my singlet.' He sounds baffled.
Suddenly, I remember his singlet, the one I had used to wrap the door diclofenac bottle.
'But you have lots of identical singlets?'
'Yes but I want this one. I cannot wait for Anjola to resume. I need that singlet.'
'She must have taken it to the wrong room by mistake-'
'Well let's go to your room to check,'
'But-' Oh no. Efosa.
'Urowoli! Find my singlet when you come out. If I start looking, I don't know if I will get lost.' then he cackles to his own weird joke.
I go before him became I don't know if Efosa is still in the bathroom. I cannot understand why he is so interested in coming to my room.
He gets a call and stops Midway, I hurry, hoping I am not too obvious, and go into the room, Efosa is sitting calmly on my bed, scrolling through his minuscule phone.
'Efosa! Quick!' I whisper harshly.
'What?' he asks puzzedly, his voice, stress strained.
I grit my teeth. 'My Dad!'
It takes some seconds before it registers. He begins to scramble around. I point towards the bathroom but he is too uncoordinated to understand why I am flailing my arms in that direction.
I alternate between looking at my Dad and directing Efosa. My Dad is still talking, taking slow, measured steps towards my room.
Efosa is pulling the window open, by now none of thinks about the cameras in the room, or that someday somebody would see this helpless drama.
I dash to my bed and try to find the singlet. Where had I dropped it? Why can't I remember.
'-Yes, I will get it to you before noon, I am current at my house, and will not be out until nine-'
'Hurry now! Polish toucher head!' He is annoyed but he is too busy shoving himself through the sliding glass. For a moment, I think it his impossible, but nothing is impossible with windows especially when they are not burglary proof.
Stupid but useful in this situation.
'Efosa! If my dad catches you, I'll kill you!'
'I'm going! I'm going! Calm down.'
He manages to get his legs and trunk through when my Dad enters. His head, and his eyes fixed on the arriving figure.
For a split moment, their eyes seem to lock but it is only my imagination, Efosa slips out in the last moment and my Dad groans.
'Forget it, I'll just wear another singlet.' He says and leaves.
Such effrontery! Spurring me for no particular reason.
Efosa hisses my name harshly. I see he is still clinging to the window sill on one hand, grunting.
'I can't jump down. It's too high.'
He has too. 'You have to. I'm coming downstairs to wait for you.'
'But, I can't jump down. Pull me up please.'
Despite his swagger, he's scared of height? I cannot believe this.
'I've gone downstairs o,' I say and leave the room.
I manage to sneak him out and he leaves me in anger. I cannot believe he is angry I made him jump, that is the most sensible thing I've done all morning.
Despite his anger, he promises to send me anything he figures out from the rest of the text. At least, he cannot leave me in this alone.
As soon as he is far off, a Keke marwa pulls up. A young girl emerges, her lithe caramel skin is glowing in the morning night, her wine coloured braids, framing her face and dancing slightly to the cooling air of the morning.
Timothy, one of the guys manning the gate pops out out the small gate house.
'Joan madam?' he starts, then he spots her walking in.
Her, Laju.

...

Irritated by the questions Laju has been asking me, I sulk into Lesson with Mr Akhere. He makes to lock the door but I protest by asking my Dad directly, insisting that the noise would not distract me.
For some reason, I feel too ashamed to look into his cold eyes. Maybe it has something to do with Monday.
When he finally leaves, I get a text from Efosa. I am lucky I have these injuries and pain, I can avoid going to the shop and that can give me time to crack the remainder of the text, withdraw the money- and cram it into the bag, and deliver it.
Except, I have a nagging feeling that after all I do, my dad would still be someone's suya.
I shrug it off. I will find away to ensure the bombs are removed.
I decide to take another bath before stressing my eyes over the battered phone.
The lounge door opens and Laju comes in, she had followed my mother out but why was she back so soon? Had it taken do short a time to figure out my theft. My insides melt with fear.
I will certainly be disowned if this is traced back to me.
'Mommy left her purse.' she says as though she read my mind.
I let out a small sigh of relief.
I let the water sting my wounds, sending an aftermath feeling of fulfillment.
I am soaping my body when I hear Laju gasp, too loudly to be ignored.
'What?' I shout above the sound of water.
She doesn't answer, instead she opens the door and shoots me the most disgusted look.
'You thieving fool! Are you trying to dupe our parents?!'
'What... What are you talking about.' I pray earnestly that the sounds of my furious heart is just in my ears, only my ears.
'You liar! Don't you lie to me! Today, we will see who doesn't know what who is talking about.' She waves my cracked screen phone in front of me.
Icy fingers grip my neck and my stomach churns with different variations of fear. I want to tear, but it seems the banks are dried. The only thing I can do is stay numb.
Stay numb and not think of what she might have seen.
I swallow frozen saliva and my breath catches in my chest.
I hope, or better still, I wish.
I wish for clarity.
When I step out of the bathroom, Laju is gone but my phone lay on the edge of the bed.

Efosa:
Frm my deductions, d site is most prob at Ikpoba, near d river. Where, I don't know exactly. We hv to b dere b4 7 dis evening. Bring d cash along. Meet me @ textile mill junction. Latest by 4. Efosa.

AccessBank
Credit
Amt:NGN750,558.64
Desc: UROWOLI OFORTOKUN/USSD NIP transfer from 0
Time:12/02/2020 @06:32:29
Avail Bal:NGN750,558.64
Total Bal:NGN 750,558.64

This is the end of it all. Freely, tears run down my eyes, wildly, as if they had been in a cage for long.