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"you women always making noise in the library! you want to steal my books, eh? you want to steal my books?"
baba Rodney's library was a shed but it didn't look like a shed.
it was more like metallic shafts balancing together with stuffed dampened books
inside, a large wooden plank used to cover them from the rain.
"We weren't stealing books, now. nor were we making
noise" Peninnah complained, hugging her plastic bag of borrowed textbooks.
the old man didn't look convinced. there were only three tables
in his library and 12 chairs. he'll be able to hear us from a mile away.
"out! out of my library!"
"Sir, we need-"
baba Rodney pulled out his cane. it was one of the sticks from
the market. that never breaks.
he swung it around us, hitting us occasionally on the buttocks.
"ah!"
"baba! stop!"
"no, not there!"
"ow!"
we were soon shooed out of his minute library.
"don't you ever come back!"
we didn't need telling twice. we ran off of the street his library sat on. Peninnah placed a sweating hand on her knees. she looked at me with despise.
"what are you looking at me for?"
"It was all your fault! screaming because a red ant bit
you. red ants are everywhere! now you got us kicked out for life!" she
panted.
"maybe we should go home" I muttered, fanning my face
with my hand.
Peninnah gave me a side-glance.
" and who's going to give you a piggyback? I'm not walking
home. that's for sure"
I turned my head from left to right. there was a yellow dusty
van in the horizon jumping over the pot-holes of the village.
"there! a trotro! we can take that home!"
Peninnah kissed her teeth.
"I no dey give you money. you go get money, we hop on
trotro."
I felt deep into my pockets. 200 naira lay soundly in the
depths.
I waved at the trotro wildly with my arms.
as soon as it arrived, it jigged on the spot on a sunken
pothole.
a voice groaned in the trotro.
"There is no more space now"
the driver nodded. he was a skinny thing. tall and lanky. his
eyes were sunken in like he was starved for a few days.
"There is no more room. wait for another one".
I pulled the 200 nairas from my pocket
"you sure?" I asked as I waved it in front of him. his hungry eyes followed the stash of money. I knew he needed it and he knew I
wanted the ride.
he grabbed the money.
"in you get"
Peninnah and I jumped onto the bus. it was crowded and smelt
like feet, my aunt's feet. not a ride you'll pay 200 nairas for.
I squeezed between an overweight woman and an old lady. they
fanned their faces with pieces of paper. I felt choked up and faint but it
wasn't the lack of oxygen. a sickly sweet scent squeezed past the air of our
noses. the fanning from the women began to stop. they were all swaying with
drowsiness in their eyes. all of the passengers fell under the spell of
tiredness.
I glared at everyone in alarm. what was going on? why is
everyone sleeping at the same time? why am I not sleeping?
I lifted myself up to see the driver. he was looking through
the concave glass of the car. he gave an inhumane smile that stretched the wrinkles
from his face.
He grabbed his phone.
?I've got them all? he laughed. ?your idea is working! They all thought it was normal transport!?
His laugh made me shiver. I made sure I didn't make any noise. I scrambled around my pockets for my phone.
Great, I thought, in the time of need I leave my phone at home.
I turned to look out of the window. Clouds of gnarled branches stroked the trotro with their fingers. My spirit felt like jumping out of my skin as the road became bumpier and the forest became more evident.
Where was he taking us? I thought.
The door of the trotro slid open. At the door stood a boy. His face was smear with chalk on his cheeks and he was wearing nothing but a red cloak around his waist. In his chapped hand was a fan-made from goat fur. It was stained with blood and looked rather dirty
My eyes widened.
I was at a juju camp! They were going to sacrifice us for money!
I wanted to scream but I knew it was a rubbish idea. The forest was fathomless and the fog wrapped around us like a cloak. I was trapped. I couldn't go anywhere even if I tried.
?out!? the boy commanded, his free hand on his waist.
The passengers strolled out, dreamily. My friend Peninnah was with them. She had a grin of content on her face as if nothing was happening at all.
?you, out!?
The boy pointed his finger at me.
?don't think I can't see you!?
I walked out of the van, knowing it was the end for me.
They thrust us into a cell. It was a cell with bars anyone could squeeze through, but it was armed with other juju men. I stood at the back, biting my nails in fear. It was like a shop, come and go, but this time you never went back home. I turned my head every time they swung the axe. I watched Peninnah as she was pushed to the ground and?
Swing!
Tears spilled from my eyes. I sobbed, heavily until rasping gasps were left.
?stop making that terrible noise!? one juju man screamed.
A cold hand grabbed me. That's when I knew I was next. The juju boy pushed me to the ground. Panic took over. A series of thoughts ran through my head as the juju chief lifted his axe.
A picture of my mother crying out to god stopped in my head. I was never religious. I never went to church or participated in the lord's baptism. Tears fell onto my cheeks. Now, I had wished I had.
?God, Jesus, please help me!? I whispered, my voice shook in fear.
A blinding light broke from the heavens. The juju man cried out in pain and fell to the ground, unmoving. The axe he held swung towards the juju boy who fell in a heap of blood.
I hastened onto my feet and ran.
The remaining juju men became suddenly alert.
?did you see where she went??
?where'd she go??
?if we run now we'll catch her!?
My legs thrust forward getting caught in my skirts as I tripped in the mud. In the distance, I saw an old man in a rocking chair. I ran towards him. I fell at his feet.
?please?juju men?chasing? I stammered as I tried to catch my breath.
The old man pointed to the other side of the forest, his finger looked bright and shining.
I got up again in a hurry and ran into the other side of the forest.
crack!
were they here?
My head swiveled around. The rocking chair was empty. I stared at it in disbelief. How could a man disappear like that? An old one for that matter. I thought.
? just you wait, i'll tear that girl for making us run from limb to limb?
The voice rang through the forest.it echoed against the trees. they were here!
I started to run again but this time - faster.
"Mrs Masha,Mrs Masha, why do you always do this to the kid?.Have you no respect for this place. Let the boy go outside,he has already caused us too much trouble for the day. Look over there everyone is starting to leave." the librarian said.
"I told you yesterday not to bring him back again, but here you are", she added. Looking disapprovingly at Peter,she narrowed her eyes.
" A little spoilt aren't yaa" Mama's boy, disturbing our peace this early in the morning. You are lucky I am not your mother," she mused.
I dragged Peter away as the librarian was now starting to make a scene. What had started as Peter winning about wanting to borrow the same book he had always borrowed had now turned into a somewhat sermon. The people in the library were no longer leaving but had turned their attention to us. It was as if we were starring in some television show. Everyone waiting for something more scandalous to happen.
Not wanting any more drama,and deciding to head home. I dragged Peter to the exit and was signing out the books I had selected. Peter forcefully pulled his hand away and ran back the to the section of the library we had left, screaming.
"You are not my mom,You are not my mom. I hate you. I don't love you," Peter screamed as he ran.
"Peter come back here,"I said trying to sound a bit firm.
My voice however was the opposite of firm,that I knew very well.
Jonathan had never failed to tease me about my voice. In the early days of dating he would say that it was what he liked most about me. Whenever I screamed and shouted at him,he would look at me directly in the eyes and try really hard not to laugh.
When I had calmed down he would pull me close and kiss me softly. He would apologise for laughing and tell me my voice was too cute for shouting at anyone.
Somehow we would then resolve our issues,and he would joke about having a baby girl who looked exactly like me.
" You killed my father,"Peter screamed on.
Tears started rolling down my eyes as memories of Jonathan flooded my mind.
I could almost smell the roses as I walked inside the garden. It was a fairytale themed wedding and everything about it felt surreal. The dress I wore looked like it had little flower petals ,hand sewn together and it made me feel like a fairytale itself.
The sun shone in ways that made everything feel sweet,from the little cupcakes put alongside dragonflies. I spotted little girls dressed like fairies walking about the garden spreading glitter or throwing flower petals in the air.
Jonathan was beaming, he walked halfway from where he was standing and took my hand. Everyone had a little laugh about it.
We lived together for a year and I told Jonathan that I did not want to have children of my own. He was very supportive but his family not so much.
They said that I was a witch. When I was not at home they came with a pastor and sprinkled holy water. Jonathan simply did nothing. He let his family do whatever they felt was right. After a while,it all stopped. They stopped calling me a witch and bringing pastors to my house behind my back.
Even Jonathan changed,he was more loving,more involved. One evening, I got home and the house was in total darkness. He prepared a good meal and we ate it in candlelight. He took me outside and he lite a fire. That is when he convinced me that we needed to adopt a child.
The following month we adopted Peter,it took us lesser time than we thought.
Peter did not take very well to me. However Jonathan seemed not to have any trouble with the boy.
I used to lie awake many nights wondering if I had done the right thing. In my heart there was no doubt that I loved Peter but there was always something missing. There was always a little gap between us. I am sure Peter felt it too.
I could not fully accept him into my life. I isolated myself a little and let Jonathan do most of taking care of the child. However with time he grew on me.
With time as well i started being afraid, my deepest fear was that one day he was going to grow up and leave. Loving him was a great joy. I watched him dress up for school,and when he came back home. He would focus intensely on his books as he scribbled something His brow was always knit in a knot. At night I would peak inside his room as he slept peacefully.
In the library now, I could not do anything much as he broke down in sobs. Screaming and kicking. I wanted to tell him that it was going to be alright but Jonathan had left us without any warning. I myself was not sure if I would not leave him just as his parents had in a car accident
I was in the library trying to look up Peter's family tree. It was important that I knew that if I too was to die,there was someone who would take care of my little boy. My family believed in ancestors,and wanted nothing to do with Peter. It had something to do with if Peter died,he spirit would haunt our family and bring them bad luck.
Peter was just a little boy who needed love and the orphanage was not a place for someone like him. He was too small and fragile and needed a mother's love.
As much as I was afraid of not being a good mother I knew I had to try. With Jonathan gone I knew it was not going to be easy and it felt as if it was me against the world. Peter also being against me but if we are not called to love what other call is worthwhile in life.
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