Glowing Splints: The Struggles of a Pre-teen
Hello Teens,This is a part of the first chapter of a short story that I wrote about a year ago. I'll be posting parts of this story every day for you all to read. Enjoy!
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“It’s nine
o’clock!” Jide screamed as he realized that it was a school day and not a
Saturday. He leaped from his bed and fled to his parents’ room. “Mummy! Mummy!”
No response. He then barged in to find the bed neatly made and he was
immediately immersed in the feeling of loneliness and emptiness. “So Mummy has
developed a new strategy for getting me to wake up on time? But how could she
leave without me? Even Nene?” he wondered. His sister, Nene, had always been on his side;
she hardly ever went anywhere without him.
What would be going on in
school now? Would Miss Lilian notice my absence?
These questions flooded his mind as he came to accept the reality that he would
be staying home that day while his mates were at school. He had never missed a
single school day for as long as he could remember.
To get his mind free from all these worries, Jide
decided to treat himself to akara and
a steamy bowl of pap. He sat down at a corner in their moderately furnished
living room. As he ate, he stared into space observing every detail; from the
television set on the stand, to the dense green curtains, to a matching green
rug, to the portrait of his mother on her wedding day. Some details that he
noticed in his living room almost had him believing that it was his first time
there. He stood up, gently walking towards the portrait of his mother with a
lot of thoughts flying through his mind. As he stared at this portrait, he
broke a tear with the words “When would all this be over, Mummy?” It was as he
stood there feeling frozen, he went into retrospection. Remembering the
bruises, the scars, the scalds, the cuts, and the aggrieved hearts, he
subconsciously clenched his fists. Why
was all this going on, and so fast?
“To think that Mum does not sleep because of your
brutality. That I can’t do anything about it makes me even angrier” he thought
aloud. He was interrupted by the clanging of keys close to entrance door.
“Daddy!” Jide screamed as he saw his father standing
in the doorway beaming with such a smug as he was flanked by two young ladies
who Jide had never seen before. Jide took his time to observe these ladies’
skimpy dresses that seemed to be squeezing the life out of them. Their dresses
were so tight that they stratified the walls of their stomachs into layers of
fatty flesh and was almost throwing their breasts out. Who are these people? He thought. Immediately, their identity came
to his mind. Prostitutes. Rage
immediately surged through his being, he felt so angry that he began to feel
indestructible.
Mr Okafor, not knowing what to say to get himself out
of the situation, attempted turning the tables. “What are you doing here at
this hour? Isn’t today supposed to be a school day? So you planned to stay at
home to spy on your own father, this useless child?” Mr Okafor still felt
uneasy. He did not know how to explain the situation to his only son. Of
course, he had no explanations.
“Dad, is this what you do
when mum is out to work? For how long dad?” Facing the ladies, “For how long
have you been seeing my father? Did you know he was married?” After saying
these words, Jide broke into tears. The tears were an overflow of the hatred and
anger he now felt towards his father. “A..a..after all these things you do, you
still have the guts to beat mummy up whenever you suspect that she is with
another man, when you are the devil yourself.” Jide said these words in between
tears. Knowing that his father may soon hit him, he ran out of the house
immediately not knowing where he was headed. He knew he just had to leave.
“I’m home!” Mum was back
from work.
“Jide, how did you enjoy your day at home
alone? I hope you’d learn this time.” She was still speaking as she got herself
settled in a couch in the living room. “Jide since when did you start ignoring
your mother? Have you added that to your collection as well?” Noticing the
strange echoing of her voice in the room, she got worried.
“Jide!” she yelled. Still, no response. “Jide!
Where are you?”
“Your son should be out
with those his friends that are as useless as him.” Mr David said as he
strolled out of his room to the verandah to get some air. He had his wrapper
tied loosely around his waist. “Traditional
Igbo man”, Mummy usually told her friends when they dropped a comment about
Mr David’s frequency of wearing nothing but a wrapper around his loins whenever
he stayed at home.
“Is that what you can say?
So you can’t even conceal your hatred for your son even at a time of distress
such as this? David Okafor, you surprise me every day.”
“Woman, so you even dare
to call me by my name in such a tone, and with such a straight face? I’ll teach
you today that wives are supposed to be submissive to their husbands.” Mr
Okafor grabs his wife by her wrist, drawing her to him so suddenly in such a
way that one may think it’s a tango dance step. He then leaves the outline of
his fingers on his wife’s face, sending her spinning across the living room. At
this point, Nene rushes into the living room thinking a glassware had
shattered, unaware that it was the interaction between her mother’s cheek and
her father’s hand that had caused the ‘explosion’. Mr David makes for his wife
to continue from where he left off until he is interrupted by a calm,
anger-sated voice: “Daddy please stop it now.” Jide kept a blank face as he
said these words. “I’m begging, please leave Mummy alone.”
Mrs Okafor was shocked by
her son’s newly-found boldness. She looked at her husband, shocked that he had
not yet pounced on Jide for his tone. Nene gaped as she stared at her brother
and her father go head-to-head. Mr Okafor quickly let go of his wife’s hand and
went out of the house. It was not surprising as Mr Okafor is known to go to a
bar close to the house to take a few shots of whisky whenever he gets into a
bad mood despite the reprimanding from his wife.
“Why are you just standing
there? Aren’t you supposed to explain to me why you’re coming back by this time
after skipping school today?”
“I love you, Mum.” As Jide
said these words, he gently strolled into his room. Mrs Okafor was left
standing alone. She was shocked for some reason: Jide had never called her
‘mum’ before, Jide had never been able to stand up to his father, Jide had
never walked out on her before, he had never been so nonchalant about having to
miss school, Mr Okafor had never tolerated any potential insult or stain on his
ego as he just did. What was going on?
Tired of guessing reasons
why what was happening was happening, Mrs Okafor stood up from the floor to go
tend to the swelling on her cheek.”
On Saturday mornings, the
Okafors clean up the compound and treat themselves to a heavy breakfast. Today
was no different.
“Nene!”
“Yes Mummy!” Nene replied
as she ran to meet her mother. Nene is the thirteen-year-old sister to Jide.
She just finished 8th grade at Champs High School. She is a little
bit plump, average-heighted, and overly abundant in her female resources.
“What on earth could you
be doing inside the house when we are out here working our guts out?” Mrs
Okafor said as she busied herself with the weeds that were trying to slip out
of her grip.
“I’m sorry Mum, I’m here
now” Nene said feeling ashamed.
“You can take it up from
that corner, pluck the weeds out from the roots so that they’d take a longer
time to grow back. Get cracking!”
As they continue their chores,
suddenly, “Mummy, Pastor Thomas is here!”
“Nene you do not have to
stretch your vocal chords so early this morning. How have you been?”
“Pastor, I’m okay just
that I’m finding it difficult adjusting to the life of a 9th
grader”, Nene said with such a smug as she ‘killed two birds with one stone’.
She got to answer Pastor Thomas’ question as well as inform him that she was in
9th grade.
“Oh, I see! You’re now a
big girl eh? I have something that may…”
“Pastor please help me
pray for my brother. He has not been himself since the day he came back after
the curfew and he was scolded by mum.” Nene said almost lachrymose.
“Oh I will, my child. Let
me say hello to your mother, okay?” Pastor walked away, but towards Mrs Okafor.
“Madam. Good Morning!” He seemed
to have jerked her from her thoughts.
“Ah! Good morning Pastor.
I hope all is well with you?” She genuflected as she spoke these words.
“Eucharia, everything is okay with me, but
is everything okay with you? I’ve been getting reports about your son. What’s
going on in this sanctified household?”
“Pastor, I am as confused
as anyone else. Sometimes I even feel that Jide and my husband know something
that they have decided to conceal from me.”
“I hope you put him in
your prayers as is required of you at such times as this.”
“Of course, I pray every
day that whatever it is that they may be hiding would be made known to me so
that true joy can be restored to my home.”
“Eucharia, I pray that you
are granted those desires. I will pray for him as well. Well, I have to be
going now as I have to prepare for a midday fellowship with the youth.” Pastor
Thomas said as he made his way to the gate.
“Okay. Have a nice day. We
may come around later to see you this evening.” Glancing over to Nene, “Are we
going to need to write a letter for you to do things properly? You missed that
spot.”
“Mum...” Nene murmured
something unintelligible.
Looking at the clock, “It’s five
o’clock” Jide said still dragging himself out of sleep. He always did that:
training himself on how to read the time from a watch or a clock. He started it
after he was derided by his classmates when he could not say what the time was
when he was asked by their teacher.
“Oh. I see that Mr. Sleep has
finally decided to grace us with his presence at our humble kitchen this
morning” Mrs Okafor said sarcastically as Jide walked into the kitchen yawning.
“Mummy, Good morning.”
“Good morning, my son. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes I did, Mum” Jide started.
“Good morning Nene.” Jide greeted
“Jii, good morning” Nene replied
her brother.
“Now, go get ready for school,
let’s try to leave before six thirty today” Mrs Okafor said still busy with the
jollof rice she was preparing to put in Jide and Nene’s lunchboxes.
Jide walked out of the kitchen
sleepily, until he bumped into something muscular at the door. It was his
father. Mr Okafor appears in a silk red pajamas that reveals his protruding
tummy and his well-rounded Igbo-man buttocks. Mrs Okafor always said that his
overly large belly was the price he was paying for all the beer he takes.
“Jide, since when did you start
waking up before me?” Mr Okafor said with a tone that revealed his nervousness.
Jide did not say a word, he simply
continued heading towards the bathroom. Mrs. Okafor’s eyes met with Nene’s with
their jaws dropped. That had never happened before. Jide always greeted his
father. What is going on here? Mrs.
Okafor thought.
Turning to his wife, “So you
prefer to make your children’s lunch to preparing breakfast for your own
husband?”
“Good morning, mine” Mrs. Okafor
greeted, ignoring her husband earlier comment.
“I have a meeting this morning,
and I need to be at the office early. So please, hurry up the breakfast” Mr
Okafor said as he walked out of the kitchen.
“When would this stop? When would
I have my husband back? I can’t even remember when last we had a heart-to-heart
conversation.” Mrs. Okafor told her friend that came visiting some time ago.
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