Since my last post, I have been gathering momentum to come back but life had other plans. Before the year ends, I would like to share with you a little something I worked on this year. I have a free short story called Troubled Horizon on
. But I wanted to put out another collection of short stories like I did the Quilt and decided to merge them with the free story. It is a far smaller collection which I hope when printed will be cheap enough for lovers of my work to grab off me in a jiffy. While the proofreading and editing stage is taking longer than planned, I do want you to have a sneak peek of one of the stories in the New compilation which is also titled Troubled Horizon.
Today the story I will be sharing with you is from my Brittle Paper 2017 December entry that didn't make the list or winners. Someone said it was because the story was a bit sad. Although I have revised the submission to what is below, it is important that we acknowledge the fact that not everyone has a Merry Christmas. Some people lose loved ones during the season, others are so broke they can only afford a meal. A few are too sick to celebrate and poverty has a grip on so many that celebrating is a challenge. These are realities faced by Nigerians which should not be ignored by literature in a bid to change the narrative of how Africans celebrate Christmas. For the African Narrative to be complete, it must be full of robust stories showing the good, the bad and the ugly. That way we correct the danger of the single story held by the West about us.
Enough talk. Here is my story and I'd like to hear your feedback in the comment section or on the social media platform where you followed the link to this blog.
17-year-old Ese stood in the doorway, gazing at the rays of light streaming through the window onto the neatly made bed. In the beam were dust particles; she knew she should change the sheets, but she dared not. It had been a week since someone had used the bed and she didn’t want to forget that.
Ese sighed and moved into the room. She fished through the pockets of the clothes in her father’s cupboard and found a wad of 20 naira notes in one of his trouser pockets.
This should do, she thought to herself. Then she meandered out of the house to get some breakfast items for herself and her siblings.
The day was still young. Though the sun was up, it wasn’t scorching, and the harmattan breeze was refreshing. She walked leisurely to the kiosk built into the fence of her neighbour’s house to buy what she needed. The stroll afforded her time to think. Christmas was the next day, and she still hadn’t heard from her father. She had last heard from him three days ago.
“Hey Ese, are you coming to watch our knock-out war tonight?” Ohioma interrupted her thoughts.
She had not noticed when he walked up to her. She had been waiting for Mama Kess to appear by the kiosk window and sell to her through its protective window bars. Before she could respond, Mama Kess appeared.
“Good morning ma,” they both chorused.
“Good morning my children, what do you want?”
“I want to buy six packets of knock-outs ma,” Ohioma said.
“And you?” asked Mama Kess.
“A loaf of sliced bread, three eggs, a tin of milk and 20 naira’s worth of Lipton, please.”
Mama Kess turned around and ransacked her shelves for the items needed.
“So are you coming?” Ohioma resumed.
“It depends. You know my Dad doesn’t like us being out during ‘watch-night’. Besides, it will be hard to keep an eye on my younger ones while you guys are going all out in a knock-out war.”
“Well, sometimes you need to bend the rules. Live a little,” Ohioma said, turning his back to Mama Kess’ window, a broad carefree smile etched on his face. “Give the little ones some cartoons then join us to have some fun. We will beat them Oghenero’s gang tonight. They dared us! There is no going back. It’s our street versus theirs, and the war is taking place over there.” He pointed at the main road that connected both streets.
“Won’t it cause trouble for road users?” Ese asked as Mama Kess tapped him and gave him his ammunition before collecting her money.
“Nope. Most parents will be indoors preparing for Christmas. The streets are ours tonight!”
Ese paid Mama Kess and collected her goods. Ohioma followed her as she headed home.
“So what say ye? You know we need the girls to cheer us on and sing our victory song. The ‘Okponyo’ go too sweet.” Ohioma chuckled.
“And what makes you think you will win?”
“Oh we know we will. We are getting mercenaries from other streets to help us ambush them.”
“Hmmm, seems you’ve got it all figured out. Anyway, as I said, if I can, I will try to be around. No promises.”
“Okay. See you later,” Ohioma said and rushed off to his house where his elder brother was impatiently waiting for him at the door.
Ese shook her head. A smile played across her lips until the sight of her house reminded her of her predicament.
Daddy promised to be home three days ago. What could have kept him? Lord, please let him be alright.
Losing a mother was hard. The idea of losing a father barely a year later was devastating. But no, Ese refused to allow herself to think of such things.
What was her mother fond of telling her? “Ese, as you think, you become. What you declare as your reality with your mouth and in your mind will become your reality in life.” She wondered what thoughts her mother had in her last moments before the car exploded after the accident. Had those thoughts become her reality?
Eyewitnesses had claimed her mother had died instantly during the accident. They claim she was trying to avoid a pothole near the Market when a vehicle appeared in her line of sight. Although she did her best to avoid running into the family of four driving towards her, her car somersaulted three times before bursting into flames. It happened in the blink of an eye. It had been so fast that there was nothing anyone could do about it. All they got was a call on their house phone from a stranger.
Ese opened the door with the house keys in her hand and heard the TV. Her younger ones were up and watching Christmas-themed cartoons on Cartoon Network.
“Ochuko, Doro, have you brushed your teeth?”
They shook their heads.
“Oya, before I count to five, go into the bathroom and brush your teeth or else I will turn off the TV. One…”
She didn’t need to tell them twice; they knew she always carried out her threats. So they ran out to comply immediately. She went into the kitchen, made their breakfast and served them. When they were through, she ordered them to take their baths and dress up. She laid their favourite outfits on the bed for them to wear. That way, they would look ready for a celebration if they decided to go outside to play.
As soon as they were done getting dressed, the power went out.
“Awww,” they groaned, “they have taken the light.”
“Aunty Ese, can we go over to Maro’s place to play?” Ochuko, her younger brother, asked.
“Yes, you can. But promise me, no ‘long-throat’ when you get there. If your friends don’t offer you a snack or a meal, don’t beg them or cry for it. Say your sister said you should leave now and just come home. You hear me?”
“Yes Aunty Ese,” they chorused and ran out of the house excited.
With both of them out of the house, Ese could now focus on herself and also battle those scary thoughts that kept running through her mind.
The house was empty. The money she found would not be enough to get them the ingredients she needed to make party Jollof rice or fried rice. What was she to do? The last thing she wanted to do was blow all the money at once on a one-day celebration.
What would we eat tomorrow or the days after if daddy didn’t show up?
Every time the phone rang, she prayed it was her father, not a stranger calling to give them bad news. Her relief was palpable every time it turned out to be a friend or a relative calling to wish them Merry Christmas.
The day seemed to crawl.
***
By this time typically, the family would be out shopping. Even with her mother’s death last year, her dad had tried to keep the tradition. He took them out to Kingsway supermarket to buy as many food items as possible.
The cold air conditioning in the place usually made up for the hassle of the car park. They would stroll through the aisles with their cart, window shopping the items their parents would never get them, like the pretty toys. Then they’d buy household favourites like a bucket of Ice cream, baked beans, hot dogs and big bottles of fruit juice. For clothes, they would go to the Main market downtown and walk through busy, dusty streets to the areas where the clothes merchants were.
Cries of, “Pretty girl, come, I have something for you”, “Oga wetin una dey find? I get am. Come”, “Fine, Fine, cloth here. Fine, fine cloth here”, “Cheap fine cloth dey, come and buy", and lots more would fill the air. Some traders would go as far as pulling one of them by the hand towards their shop.
During such market visits, their Father was fond of saying, “Stick close.”
Ese feared getting lost; the fear of not having any familiar face around or to depend on frightened her and compelled her to obey.
***
It was that same fear of being alone that she felt now that her dad had not shown up as planned. She couldn’t bear the thought of life without him, especially when death had already snatched their mother away.
She looked at the time; it was now 3 pm. Time for her siblings to eat lunch and have their siesta. She went to the neighbour’s house to get them.
“Oh sorry dear, your siblings fell asleep already. Let them rest; we will send them home when they wake up.” Maro’s mum said.
“They are supposed to come home for lunch before they sleep,” Ese protested.
“Don’t worry dear; they ate lunch with my kids. They are in good hands. Why not take time off and enjoy yourself? I’m sure your dad will be home before you know it.”
“Okay, thank you ma.”
Ese left and walked around her neighbourhood for a while. They lived at the father’s company’s housing estate. She saw the Ereoyakas decorating the pine tree outside their house with tinsel and Christmas lights. As she walked further down, the smell of fried chicken wafted through the air from the Talabi’s kitchen window.
When the heat from the sun became unbearable, she headed back home. Besides, seeing how others were preparing for this year’s Christmas celebration caused an ache in her heart.
“Think positive, Ese,” she told herself, “I’ve got to get my mind off this worrying. It’s not doing me any good.”
The cheers of children from different houses signalled that the electricity was back on. She smiled to herself as she hatched a plan to watch romantic Christmas movies to while away the time and quickened her pace. When she got home, she went to count the money in the house to ensure it was enough for any impending hard time.
While watching the movie, she fell asleep. It felt like a few minutes rest because, in her sleep, she could still hear the doorbell ring. She grudgingly rose up and went to answer it. Her friend May was at the door.
“Hi, I come bearing gifts,” she chirped cheerfully, “were you sleeping? You look awful.”
“Yeah, I was. Come in.”
Ese walked into the parlour leaving May to take off her slippers and close the door.
“Here, this is for you.” May handed her a nylon bag with a cooler and a small wrapped present.
Ese opened the present to see a handmade cardboard frame with a broken glass. The picture of an actor she had a crush on had been cello-taped to the glass. It was an innovation they had both come up with one day while playing adventure seekers around their school premises.
They created their local frame with pictures torn out of old magazine issues and abandoned broken glass. Ese came up with the concepts of what to put in it while May penned down any words they came up with. It also proved to be the start of a lucrative business for them both. They usually sold it to fellow schoolmates who used the frames to declare their love for their crushes. They had never thought to keep one for themselves, so it was quite sweet of May to gift it to Ese.
“This is so nice, thanks May. What’s this?” Ese brought out the cooler.
“I told my mom that your dad was late in returning from his business trip and she decided to send over some emergency Christmas food. It’s just in case he doesn’t show up in time with Christmas groceries or for you to do any Christmas shopping. Hey, have you guys heard from him since?”
“No oh. I have been so worried all morning trying to keep it all together. But I am scared May. What if he never comes back. He said he’d be back days ago and he is still not here.” Ese’s voice broke. She took a deep breath before she could continue. “Today is Christmas Eve, and my dad has not returned. I don’t know what to do, May. I’ve lost a mother, I can’t bear to lose my father too.” Ese sobbed, releasing all the tears she had held inside since morning.
May hugged Ese and let her cry it out.
“Don’t think such thoughts Ese. That’s fear talking. Let’s choose to believe that your Dad is all right. He will come home.”
After Ese had calmed down, May asked, “So what are you watching?”
“I don’t know I slept off. I’m sure the film I was watching has ended, and this is a new one.”
“And where are Ochuko and Doro?”
“They went to play with my neighbour’s children and fell asleep there.”
“I have an idea. Why not come with me? My church is having a night of hymns and carols. It’s starting at 5 pm, if we go now, we can make it in time. Your siblings are at your neighbour’s, so this is the best time to enjoy yourself. Let’s go. There will even be fireworks. It’ll be fun. It’ll take your mind off things. Come on.”
“Okay. Let me change into something better and inform the neighbours, so they don’t send my brother and sister home while I am gone.”
The service was just as fun as May said it would be. As the choir sang hymns in orchestra style, the harmonies seeped into her mind, causing her to be more relaxed. She told herself, I am going to stop worrying and trust that God is in control.
So she whispered a prayer, “Lord, by faith I choose to believe my Father is fine and he will come back home to us this night. Help me to stop worrying and just enjoy this Christmas Eve or what is left of it now. I thank you for I receive the answers to my prayer now, in Jesus name, Amen.”
And from that moment on, she enjoyed her time at the service and felt her spirits lift. When she got back, the street wars had started. With barely any street lights or lights from moving vehicles, the sparks from the knock-out wars were like stars exploding close to the earth. She watched and cheered for Ohioma’s team. He was right, their victory was guaranteed. They used video game tactics to outwit their competitors.
The night was getting quite dark and she felt a bit tired. She left as they sang their victory song to pick up her siblings from their neighbour. When they got to their house, they saw their dad’s car in the driveway. They all squealed and raced home.
“Daddy, Daddy,” cried the younger ones.
Their father flung the door wide open and embraced his children, “Oh, I’ve missed you so,” he said. “Sorry for giving you a fright Ese, I know you worry a lot like your mother.”
“It’s okay daddy; I am just glad you are back. Christmas wouldn’t be the same without you.”
She pressed herself closer to her father as tears of joy slipped down her face. This was what she had prayed for in the service, and now, she had the best Christmas gift she could ever desire. Her family together for Christmas.
“So, I brought home some frozen chicken and a crate of drinks,” dad said.
“Yeah!” they all squealed. A little something was better than nothing right?
May’s mother’s excellent Nigerian party jollof rice would go well with the chicken and drinks to suffice for a grand Christmas meal, Ese thought.
“It might not be much but it’s the least I could do not to make Christmas a total disaster,” their father chuckled. “Oh and I got you these little trinkets for Christmas presents,” he added, bringing out a nylon bag of goodies he had hidden away behind him.
Christmas seemed to be shaping up nicely now. There was nothing a big piece of chicken wouldn’t solve.
The end.
Thanks for your time and happy new year in advance. See you in 2019!
