UPWARD MOVEMENT

‘Oh my’, I sighed.

‘What?’ Bidemi asked. She repeated the question twice but gave up when she did not get any answer.

It had become a routine. I mean the sighs. The reason for them was what I could not place. All I know was that for sure, I yearned for fulfillment and that with every passing day this fulfillment seems to elude me.

My phone began to ring. At first I did not recognize its ‘omoge mi’ ringtone but Bidemi’s continued stare made me eventually pick the phone. I picked up the phone but not the call. The caller ID told me that it was Nkechi on the line. I did not feel like talking to her. I could tell how the conversation will go. Nkechi was a success story; married to a loving, caring and rich man who had a fantastic consulting outfit and adored her, Nkechi had two kids, a girl and a boy, just as she always dreamed of in school. Picking up her call was a reminder of how hard it has been it has been for me since I lost my job two years back. It would also remind me of Shadrack’s disappearance and the consequential loss of my five months pregnancy the year before. In totality, it reminded me of how much of a failure I had been.

‘You should have picked the call, Asia’, Bidemi said, breaking into my thoughts. It seems to be her forte these days but I was grateful. Bidemi would never express her opinion in a condescending manner or chide me for being out of a job at my age. Even throughout Shadrack’s episode, she would never condemn. This is in spite of the fact that she never liked Shadrack all trough the period we dated.

‘There is something that is just not set about him, Asia, he is just not that set’. She would say.

Bidemi grew up with us. I mean in my family home. Her mother was my mother’s little sister. Her dad, she never knew, he never saw her. He was on training when she was born. He died in a plane crash on his way back. When her mum remarried after her sixth birthday, she decided to leave her with my mum who did not mind as I being the last was already in my third year in a secondary boarding school.

‘She is calling again pick up the call. You may never know’, Bidemi added again

 I called her my shadow when she was like this. Good thing was that at times like this she was mostly right, sorry, always right. As she was with Shadrack so she was with Nkechi. I was right too. I mean my intuition about the reason for Nkechi’s call was right. She was calling to invite me to her daughter’s birthday in the coming week- end. She had planned to do a joint celebration with her tenth year wedding anniversary.

I had my reservations as I dressed up for the party that Saturday but Bidemi did not give me any room to exercise them. She practically dressed me up   and walked me to the party. It was not until I had gotten into the compound that she returned home.

Nkechi’s party changed my world. It was at the party that I met Bode who was looking for an on-the-ground partner to run his carpentry/furniture business. At first I thought it was not feminine but the thought of learning something masculine intrigued me. By the next week, work started as Bode was in a hurry to travel back to his Brazil base.

I was on the job when Nosa walked in to request for the furnishing of his company. From taking measurements and trying to meet specifications to a few lunch dates, we went further to becoming man and wife.

***************************

Finally I found fulfillment so we named our baby Oghogho.

I thank God for his faithfulness and for those who coped with me in my time of depression, particularly Bidemi.

MY HOME Coming

MY HOME Coming*

I turned the traveling bag inside out and replaced it on the bed.  I took out the first bit of clothing
and began to fold them into the bag.  I stole a glance at Sunuola; he was sitting at a small corner of the
bed with a novel in his hand.  I turned my attention to my packing and began to put more clothes into the
bag.

The bag was soon full.  I zipped the bag and brought out another. placing the bag on the bed, I began to put my books in it.  As I did that I could not help imagining how home was going to be like when I get there.  My brothers, Clayton and Simon and my five-year-old sister Onome will all be there.  I don’t
know about Mum and Dad but I know Aunty Ogor will be there.  I could see them all jumping around me in my mind’s eye.  I could see Clayton and Simon asking how school was and Onome asking for her chocolates.  I pictured Aunty Ogor asking me to come quickly and eat so that I can put on weight before the holiday ends.  I could also see Mum and Dad hugging me to show how proud they were of me.

            “So when are you coming back?” Sunuola asked, braking into my thoughts.

            “Aaah” I replied, “I’ve not gone yet and you want to know when I will be back”

I resumed my packing and continued to dream about home.  Home was every thing to me- care, protection, love and security.  Mum and Dad have always been there for me from childhood to this very moment.  Clayton and Simon were twins, two years younger than me but they were great pals.  Onome, the girl was really young, twelve years younger than the twins but she was fun to be with. And Aunty Ogor; she was quite older than us.  She is Mum’s younger sister, she will soon be getting married but her love for us I know will never be in doubt.

I turned my attention to Sunuola.  He was still with the novel but I doubted his reading it.  He seemed to know that I was looking at him because he turned and whispered “home”. 

Aloud he said, “that word is beautiful, isn’t it?”

Ignoring the question I asked, “Sunu, when are you really going home?” 

Instead of answering my question he got up, pulled out a stick of cigarette, picked up his lighter and went outside with an “excuse me”.

He came back about ten minutes later and sat down on his bed.                          
            “What was it you said “, he asked smiling.
   

I looked at him for sometime before asking if there was anything wrong with my wanting to know when he will be going home. 

He was quiet for a while before giving me his answer, “nope, nothing’s wrong if there
is a home”.
            “There will always be a home”; I answered mildly.
            “Tell me about your home again” He asked.
           

It wasn’t until that question that I realized how little I knew about Sunuola’s life at home.  In fact I knew next to nothing.
           

 I decided to say something else “seems like you should do the telling”.
   

He looked at me and said, “Edafe, don’t you get it, there is no home”.

I knew Sunuola’s facial expression was really doing a lot to mask whatever he was feeling and although my home kept calling I really wanted to know what was down with my friend so I went to his bed and sat by his side.
           

 “I’m all ears,” I said.
          

With all seriousness he said, “You really want to hear?”

“Come on Sunu, I should know what and how you feel about this” I replied.

As if meditating on my words Sunuola bowed his head and raised it after some time.

“Yes you should” he said and began his pathetic little story from day one. 

He had been born of a teenage mother and an unknown father.  His own mother who happened to be a love child wasn’t so loved by either of her own parents so she laced her whole world around her only child.  Unfortunately, death snatch her away when Sunuola was just twelve and as if she had known
what her son’s fate will be all her life time saving  had been put towards Sunuola’s education.  What she
had not taken care of was a roof over her son’s head.  So every holiday, darling Sunuola had to leave school for any of dear Mum’s relative who was willing to let him stay in his/her house in exchange for his
services.  Though he was well paid for whatever services he rendered, he still did not have a home.

I looked up to my friend when he was done. I dint know what else to say to him. As if reading my thoughts, Sunuola urged me to finish my packing. I was very eager to do that. As soon as I was done, I went to the park in search of a cab. I was lucky to get one soon considering the fact that every student seem to be in a rush to get home. I said my good bye to Sunu and asked him to feel free to check on me during to break. He did not promise to do that but wished me the best of the holiday.

Three hours later I was knocking on the door of our three bedroom bungalow.

           “ I hope it’s Edafe”, I heard Clayton say.

           “I’m sure its him”, Simon added, opening the door at the same time.

As soon as the twins realized it was me, they jumped on me trying to hug me and lift my bags at the same time. I could feel little Onome tugging me, trying to see if she could get me to carry her. In the midst of all these I heard Aunty Ogor shouting, “You people should let him settle and eat so that he can at least gain some weight befor he returns to school again”.

I smiled to myself. I was truly home and I wished Sunuola would someday feel the same way about home

*This piece came from my achieves. Names have been changed