Chapter 2: Old Memories, New Wahala

My mama, voice dey shake, continue: "To fit reach your level, I stop to dodge class. I dey wake by two every morning to cook for my mama and prepare her medicine..."

As my mama dey read that line, my mind flash back to those mornings. I dey pound yam for kitchen, boil water, help mama drink her medicine. That time, sleep no dey my eye, but I just dey pray make she get better.

The class teacher face change, something no dey add up. I notice small worry for her eye, like say she dey remember something from past.

She cut in, "Wait, which kind cooking and medicine?" She dey try understand the story, her tone don drop small.

My mama wipe her tears, talk, "Aunty, when he small, I dey sick for bed one year. His papa dey work site, so he dey skip class every day come house early, cook, and make medicine for me. Na why his result drop. Later, he decide to try, so he dey wake early every day dey do housework—all na for my sake."

My mama voice dey tremble, but everybody for class don quiet. The story dey touch them. Some boys wey dey stubborn before don mellow.

The class teacher just clear throat, adjust her hair. "Okay, continue. No know say na so e be—he like her since small, na?" She no expect say e get this kind backstory. For her face, I see small respect join.

My mama read: "To like you no easy, because you dey far, dey high. To reach you, I read book tire, follow you enter big school, but I..."

I remember as I dey burn midnight candle, dey sweat for kerosene lamp, dey read my note. My own way to climb reach her level.

The class teacher cut in quick: Her voice sharp, she no wan make me dey dwell for old wounds. She dey try shift the story go another side, maybe to protect herself.

"Our school no be big government school. You see am? Because your head dey inside love, you miss the real thing. Everybody, make this one teach you sense. The girl make am, but he miss. If you no read, you go lose love join."

She use my story warn the class. For Nigeria, na education dey lift person from poverty, na why she dey hammer that point.

My mama say, "Aunty, the next line say: 'But I no make am, but I meet you here.'"

Her voice soft, she dey try explain my side. Even if I no reach the big school, God still arrange make I meet my teacher.

The class teacher face just change. She no expect that line. She dey try hold herself, but I fit see her eye dey blink fast, like person wey dey remember old things.

She say, "E mean say the girl sef no concentrate. Continue." Her voice no too strong again. Small shame dey for her face. I fit sense say the letter dey touch her spirit, but she no wan let am show.

I see small shame for her face. Her eye dey red small. She wan hide her own emotion, but everybody dey notice.

I know say she make am that year. Na everybody for neighborhood celebrate when she get admission. My mama even fry puff puff that time, carry go her house.

I think say I no go ever see her again, but I no believe say as I come here, na she go be my class teacher.

I dey thank God for how life fit turn table. Even after everything, we still meet for another chapter.

Na God arrange am. I dey believe say no be by accident. Na so destiny dey play hide and seek for our life. Sometimes, e go circle come back meet you where you no expect.

My mama read: "When you see me, you just smile and nod. I think you no remember that small boy wey dey cry for ground years back."

That moment na like yesterday for my mind. I dey dirty, my eye red, but she just smile, nod, like say e no matter.

The class teacher just shout play-play, Her voice rise, she try use laughter cover her own confusion. She dey tease me, but I sabi say something for her heart dey shake.

"Ewo, small boy dey cry—see as e dey do me. All this your sweet talk na wah! Why you like dey cry?"

Some people chuckle, but the laughter no loud. The mood for class don calm, people dey feel for me.

All the girls for class dey nod, some dey scratch their arm like say dem get goosebumps.

The air get one kind tension, soft and sad. The girls dey relate, some dey look the teacher like say dem dey connect the story.

The class teacher look me, "You dey shame now, you wan cry again, abi?"

She dey try catch my eye, but I dodge. She wan make small fun of me, but her smile weak, e no reach her eye.

As she dey do like pikin, my mind just dey sweet me. For my mind, na joy dey mix with pain. If na this kind embarrassment fit make her smile small for her hard day, I fit carry the cross. Love get as e be.

Abeg, why everything wey she dey do dey cute like this?

I just dey look her, dey feel one kind happiness inside pain. The way she dey act now, na reminder say everybody get soft side.

If my shame fit make her happy small for her busy life, I no mind. I swear, for this my small heart, I just want make she dey alright. If na my wahala go bring am, no wahala.

My mama continue: "That year, that day, my mama get surgery. Doctor talk say e fit no wake up. I fear say I go lose my mama, so I cry anyhow."

As she read am, the class don sober. Even the stubborn boys for back now just dey look ground. The truth dey heavy, e touch everybody for soul.

"Wait."

The class teacher stop am, look me well. "Na this make you cry?" Her voice don change, e soft, concern dey inside. She dey look me with respect wey she never show before.

I nod. Tears dey my eye, but I dey hold am. I no want cry for front of everybody, but I nod, make she understand.

The class teacher face my mama, bow down deep. "I beg, no vex. I no know say na this kind thing. I dey sorry well well."

Everybody shock. For our culture, teacher to bow for parent na big thing. E mean say she really dey sorry. The whole class just quiet.

The girls wey dey laugh before, now just dey look ground. Dem dey shame, dey regret their earlier laughter. Na so God dey humble person.

My mama wipe her tears, continue: "When I small, I no know wetin this feeling mean. When you kiss my forehead, I just think say na sweet memory."

Her voice dey gentle, soft like person dey sing. I dey see my mama eyes, e dey wet, she dey smile small.

"But as I see you again, my heart dey beat anyhow, nothing else dey my mind. Your smile slow for my eye, enter my head."

Everybody for class dey feel am. Na real love story, pain and sweetness join together.

"I realise say I love you. From the day I meet you, my mind don dey for you."

That kind confession, na only for Nollywood film I dey see. But today, na my matter. Na so life be.

"I thank God say I miss the big school by ten marks, so I fit see you early."

As she read am, I dey remember the disappointment, but now I dey thank God for small things wey fit turn blessing.

The class teacher bone face, "You no try. You suppose shame, no be thank God. Wait—" She talk am sharp, but her face soft, like person wey dey use boldness cover embarrassment. Her own emotion dey show for small small cracks.

She just realise say something dey off. She ask my mama, "He really miss am by ten marks?" She dey confirm, her voice no too hard again, na soft curiosity.

My papa talk, "Aunty, na my fault. He lose ten marks for PE. We be bricklayers—me I dey lay block. That day I fall from roof. Day before exam, he carry me go health centre."

My papa voice dey heavy, e dey confess with truth. Some boys for class dey nod, dem sabi say my papa na hard worker, no be small thing.

The class teacher ask, "You fit buy those ten marks?" Her voice slow, she dey try understand the whole struggle, maybe for the first time she dey see my side of life.

"Ten marks na big money. We no fit. My son just hold am for mind."

My papa voice low, pride and regret dey mix for his face. The classroom just cold, nobody fit talk.

"Hmm..."

She rub her chin, think. The weight for the room dey heavy, everybody dey wait for her decision.

The class teacher quiet. She dey reason. Maybe she dey rethink all the punishment wey she don give people before. Na real matter we dey discuss today.

She waka up and down for front, dey think if she go let my mama continue. Her wrapper dey dance as she dey waka. The class dey quiet, like say dem dey watch drama for television.

Everybody dey look her, no sure wetin go happen next. I fit hear pin drop. Even the wall clock stop to tick.

Finally, the class teacher talk, "This one good o. So, since you get better character and fit write exam, why you wan spoil your life with early love?"

She wan drive home her point. For Nigeria, na love dey scatter book for many people, na why teachers dey fear am.

My mama quick talk, "My pikin don reach eighteen. He repeat class to take care of me."

Her voice strong, she dey defend me. Some parents for class dey nod, dem sabi wetin e mean to repeat class for sake of family.

The class teacher stand gidigba, "Even if he be eighteen, he still dey school. Continue."

Her voice no get joke again. Na law she dey quote. Everybody dey adjust for seat, nobody wan collect this kind lecture.

My mama no get choice, she read: "These years na my happiest. Every day for class, I dey wait to see you, dey look you."

My own heart dey beat slow. I dey remember every time I dey peep her side, dey wish say she go just look back, smile at me.

The class teacher warn, "For class, you suppose dey look teacher, look blackboard. Your eye suppose dey my side."

She try make joke, but her voice dey catch. The class dey respond with small laughter, tension dey loose small.

I nod. True true, my eye always dey her side. Even if na to count the beads for her wrist, I sabi am.

My eye always dey her side. For my mind, na her voice dey echo for every lesson. Her movement dey guide my focus, her laugh dey sweet me pass cold coke for sun.

My mama read: "I don think to tell you my mind, but I dey fear, till that day you come my house, sit down for my bed. You wear fine lace, just dey shine for my poor house. That thing pain me."

That memory strong for my mind. That day, the house dey smell like beans and kerosene, but as she enter, everywhere bright.

Sharp sharp, the class teacher vex. Her eye wide, she no dey hide her shock. Even her shoe tap floor, make sound. I see say she dey struggle to balance authority and her own emotions.

She raise the letter, throw am my side. "So the girl still enter your house? Even sit down for your bed?"

She dey shout, but her voice get small crack. Na wah for love matter o.

I no dodge, I look her straight. Today, I no fit hide. For her eye, I dey see my own story, my truth. Everybody dey look us, but na only two of us dey the middle of this drama.

That day, na home visit she come. I remember, rain just dey threaten, compound dey wet, but my mama sweep everywhere. We no even get better chair, but we manage.

I still remember, I wan give her tea, but we no get correct cup for house. I bring one plastic cup wey dey chop for bottom, pour Lipton, add small sugar wey my mama hide for festive period.

I just open one small pack of Bournvita—na church member dash my mama for Christmas—give her. We no dey use gifts, we dey keep for visitors.

My mama even dash her small moi-moi, say make she chop before cold catch am.

I see say she appreciate am, even though e no reach wetin other teachers dey get for big house.

Cold day. My parents put small rechargeable lamp for my room because she dey come. My mama even wipe lamp shade, make sure e shine well. That day, na only light for our street dey our house.

The class teacher hold the Bournvita, sit for my bed, bite straw, sip. She cross her leg, smile at me, and say, "This your house dey warm o." That kind smile na encouragement, e make me proud that day.

She look up, smile sweet, tell me, "Ah, e warm well."

I fit see her eye dey scan the whole room, but she no judge me, she just dey smile like say she dey my level.

I sit by her side. After many years, na only two of us. Silence full the room, but e get peace. I dey wish say time go stop.

Others dey fear home visit, but I wish say that day no go finish. For my heart, I dey pray make she no see all the cracks for our wall, make she just remember my effort.

I no wan make her see our poverty. I dey hide my slippers under bed, make she no see say e don tear. But she just dey relax, dey gist with my mama.

My mama, dey read my letter, don dey cry: "When you sit for my house, I just wan tell you, I don find you for years, I dey chase you since."

Her tears dey fall for the letter, she try wipe am with wrapper. The class dey quiet, people dey feel the pain.

"I love you like breeze wey dey waka everywhere, like cloud wey no get end, day by day, year by year. That small boy wey dey pick carton for family don fall for girl wey pass am. I dey hope say I fit change my life."

Everybody for class dey look me, some boys dey blink hard, dey reason their own life.

"But as you wear lace scarf, fine like doll, for my poor house, I realise say you be like painting wey no suppose dey my life."

Na true word. Sometimes, good thing enter your life like visitor wey no suppose sleepover.

My mama hold the letter, then fall for ground. The letter scatter for floor, her hand dey cover her face, tears dey rush.

She wipe her tears, cry for me, "Why you write this kind thing? You be good pikin—na we dey hold you back. Me and your papa no get sense; you too good!"

Her voice loud, e scatter my heart. For my mind, I dey shout, "No talk like that!" But shame hold me down.

The class teacher rush go help my mama, dey panic, "Madam, abeg, no do like this."

She kneel down beside my mama, dey pat her back. For that moment, teacher and parent be like sisters, both dey cry for my sake.

"How my pikin no go reach anybody..." My mama cry. "He dey help since small, take care of me when I sick. I dey give am five naira for food and keke, he go just carry bread and English book, comot house by five."

Some students dey sniff, some girls dey use handkerchief, dey clean eye. The whole classroom turn small family meeting.

"My pikin na the best. Na we no try. Why he write say he no reach?"

Her cry dey loud, her pride dey pain. Some boys dey shift for seat, dem never see mother love strong like this.

My papa just bow head, keep quiet. For men, sometimes silence dey heavy pass talk. E dey show regret and worry.

The letter scatter for floor. I kneel down, begin pick am one by one. The paper get my sweat and my tears.

The class teacher hold my mama, no know wetin to do. She dey squeeze my mama hand, her own eye red too. She dey struggle to balance teacher role and human being heart.

She talk soft, "I no expect am like this. Make we stop. Nobody go read again."

Her voice break. She raise hand for class, dey signal say the matter don close.

She bring tissue, clean my mama tears. She dey whisper, "Madam, sorry o." Her own hand dey shake, na true pity.

She face the class, voice dey shake: "Class, all this thinking no good, but hear me well: no ever look down on yourself because you poor. You still dey young—no let low self-esteem enter your mind."

Her voice dey teach and dey comfort. Some students dey nod, dem dey hear am well.

One student talk, "I don go him house before. Dem really poor. If the girl dey wear lace, dem no even be mate."

Everybody look am, but the teacher no vex. She smile small, look the whole class, her eyes dey shine with experience.

The class teacher rush talk, "For first thirty years, na papa and pikin dem dey see; after thirty, na pikin and papa. This letter no make sense. Your life never even start. Life get many ways—no use your papa level judge yourself."

She talk am like proverb. All the old people wisdom dey for her words. The whole class quiet, dey absorb the lesson.