𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗮 𝗕𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝘀 ✔️ (UNEDITED)

Part Fifty-seven (Closure)

Part Fifty-seven

Honestly, I didn't want to give this title to this chapter but I rarely had another choice.

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Deborah's POV

‘So what was Nnenna's score, do you know?’ I said, in a phone conversation with Johnson Anyanwu.

‘No, I don't know. You know how that girl dey be nau, or this one you're asking is she not your friend anymore?’ he retorted.

‘Mtcheeww!’ I hissed loud enough. ‘if you don't know just say, no need to come and be doing oversabi.’

‘Okay oo Madam, I don't know.’ he admitted.
I don't know what pushed me to ask Johnson about Nnenna's JAMB score, when I suspected that he also might not have an idea. Nnenna was secretive to that point.

‘Okay, no problem. Take care and see you at the graduation party!’

‘Yeah, it's going to be a shutdown. See you there.’ he disconnected the call.

I laid back down on my bed, flat on my stomach and reminisced back to the days I used to wear the school's juniors' uniform, and worried about how difficult writing WAEC and NECO examinations would be. Back then, I got the opportunity to see some past questions and to be honest, they terrified me. But as I got closer to that stage, I realized that it wasn't as almighty as students sounded. Now, I was past that stage of my life and set to begin another.

Two days ago I checked my JAMB result. 203 was the total score of the four subjects I registered to write. It was good enough to gain me admission into the university, but I wanted to go to a polytechnic college. I applied for both Computer science and Mass communication in the same college, either one I was given, would help pave a way to my dream to work in a media/newsroom.

When I was a kid, it was my dream to become a writer when I was older. Now that I've reached that level of my life, I've become more realistic to know that most dreams are not empowered to become reality in a country such as Nigeria. It seemed things were always turning for the worst in this country. It doesn't mean I can't continue writing, the solution though was to have writing as a side job, whilst I have another occupation which paid well.

With my eyes closed tight and thoughts so far away, I hated it when someone disturbed or distracted me during such moment. Which was exactly what my mom did right now.

“Deborah!!” she called my name for the second time.

“Yes ma!” I said, loud enough for her to hear because if she called the third time without getting a reply from me, it would be the end of my matter today.

African mothers and their palava, they can't let someone drink water and keep cup. Especially if that someone was their first daughter.

I quickly exited for the living room, where I heard the sound of her voice.

“Maami, you called me?”

“Come and take this money,” she pushed her prim eyeglasses up and down the bridge of her nose. “Go and buy your graduation outfits, since you said you wanted to buy them with your friends.”

I scanned the room slowly until my eyes fell on the notes of money on the table mom was reading on. Stunned for words, I just stared at her without moving. This could be a prank on me, cause mother has never let me go shopping for myself, on my own. Whenever dad gave her the money, she always instructed that I got dressed without letting me know what I was dressed for.

When Chidinma, Somto, Wunmi and Peace, decided to shop for their outfits on their own, I liked the idea and desired to join them. Knowing my mother, that was just a wishful thinking. Well, I decided to try my luck by telling her about it anyway. I was surprised to hear she approved of my request.