When a national strike shuts Nigerian public universities and millions of students return home, where is Joy's brother?
Joy has two parts of the day she never thought could change. Mornings, when She and her flat neighbor Faith would turn the apartm...
Mom and I have met Mrs. Ifeoma many times, but never in the comforts of her house. Dad tells me to make friends with my secondary classmates because that is how he has his current job. His desire for me to have people to rely on in the future has not brought me closer to Mrs. Ifeoma's son.
We get closer to our location, and the drive becomes smooth. The leaves on the trees are greener. No rubbish is on the grounds, and the trees seemed to narrow more on us. I do not see an estate but a lonely compound with two heavy black gates at the end when we arrive at the given address. It became hard to tell that there was a house with so many trees.
"Mom, how do you know which one is hers?" I point at our choices while she parks the car at the one on the right.
"Let us try the one on the left," She responds.
"Okay," I say in the same spot when her body faces me.
"Are you not the one we are trying to help? Go and knock," Mom tells me.
I push the car door open. A camera zooms on my face when I knock on the gate.
The iron gates move away to reveal a young guy around my age behind it.
My lips start to form a grin as I notice he is handsome too.
"An automatic remote, cool," I chatter with him.
He's in black and oversized clothes, with a durag on his head. His eyes linger on the zobo stain on my shirt before resting on my face.
"Hi, so are you looking for anyone? Or?" He asks me.
"I am here to see a lawyer."
"Oh, yes. Ifeoma lives over there. I will tell her son," He points at the opposite gate.
"Thank you."
My mom leaves the car and joins us.
"Thank you, dear," She waves at him.
"No worries, ma'am," He smiles. The other gate rolls away to reveal a cream-coloured house.
Mom drives us into Mrs. Ifeoma's compound when we enter the car.
I can't believe it - a mansion has been in those bushes all this while. Next to it is a swimming pool on the left and a parking lot with only one more spot left on the right. Inside the house, I spot a living room the size of our living room and kitchen. Brian is there also.
He is on a chair attached to the roof by a chain. I watch him use his finger to streamline the texts in his Bible before he notices us. He returns to his studying.
A white rug is across the room like feathers underneath my feet. We pull off our shoes at the front door entrance. Brian's mom is biting a sandwich while on the couch and gestures to us.
"Do you want toast?" She beams.
"No thanks. We ate before coming," Mom rubs her stomach and sits next to dad's boss. I do the same.
"Don't be like that. You know I do not like people refusing things I give them."
"Ma?" I raise my hand.
"Yes, honey?" Her eyes are on the flat-screen television in front of us.
"I thought you would be at work."
"Oh, I will get there soon." Mrs. Ifeoma changes the channels until she stops at a familiar soap opera channel.
"I am coming," Mrs. Ifeoma leaves, and mom yanks my hand. "She is not a lawyer like your father. She can afford to go to work at any time."
If she can go to the office anytime, she should also be able to give my dad a better job also? I thought about this as my mom asked Mrs. Ifeoma to convince him, telling her about the admission.
"Is she that good in accounting?" Mrs. Ifeoma's eyes glisten.
"Yes, oo. That is my daughter. She is not only excellent in accounting but in mathematics. As I was saying..."
Brian's mom is no longer listening as she stares at me. "I wish my son was like that too."
I keep quiet.
"The thing is that final high school examinations are around the corner. Brian's grades in his subjects have remained stable, except in mathematics. I do not know what is bothering him. None of his lesson teachers has been able to help him, and it could be the stress of his classes."
Brian holds a plain expression as he stares at his mom.
Mom sighs. "I see, anyway – "
"I have listened to all you said. I will talk to your husband, Spencer. All I want from you is to allow your daughter to teach Brian mathematics?" Mrs. Ifeoma asks my mom.
We both stare at one another before turning back to her. We did not come for this.
"We came for – "
"I want to see if Brian learns better when a peer teaches him. These lesson teachers are not doing anything." Mrs. Ifeoma shares her concern with us.
We all turn to Brian.
He glares back at us. I focus on his fair skin shining like the morning sun under the chandelier light.
"Joy will understand more if she teaches someone else, and she would get paid a lot. It is not that I am saying you don't have money." Mrs. Ifeoma continues.
"No, I understand, but how long will it be?" Mom shifts on the soft couch.
"If she can help him improve by the end of the month, then till when his WAEC starts in May. I will also try to convince your dad of the admission. Joy, what do you think?"
"Whatever my parents agree on is fine with me,"
"No, Joy, it is your choice. What do you think?" They wait.
"Whatever my parents say," I repeat myself.
"I will talk to my husband, but I cannot promise anything." Mom's eyes are on her hands.
It is like there will be round two of arguments tonight.
"Honey, what do you think?" Mrs. Ifeoma looks at her son.
"Sure." Brian dips his hand into his pocket and leaves. I look away.
Oh Lord, we did not come for this.
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