The idea for Meet Uloma came to me on a windy weekday morning as I walked to school, I saw this beautiful lady all covered up as Moslem women do, and I instantly wondered about her. Who is she? What does she do? What is her story? She was on the phone and I wondered Who is she talking to? And my creative mind began to take over.
A number of women world over have fallen for guys who turned out to be nothing but bad news. Someone who makes promises and then fails to deliver. Do you remember the pain in your heart when you realized you had been lied to, been betrayed been abandoned? Some of us in searching for something to fulfil us, to validate us we go after an array of things, material and superficial things and we come out still hungry. What can satisfy? What can satisfy?
Uloma is left feeling shameful and hurt about her past. Would her husband love her? What would be the outcome when the ‘word’ gets out? A lot of us hold things back because we know how easy it is for people to quit on us, we know how conditional the love of man and woman really is.
Women at the Well, is about everyday women who share with us, things they probably have not told anyone in their own lives. in the world we live in, it is so easy to cast a stone, to label someone negatively because of something they did. What I am trying to do is introduce COMPASSION, when Jesus met with the Samaritan woman at the well, a woman who had moved from man to man, he did not condemn her instead he reached out to what her true issue was, she was thirsty for something, and Jesus told her simply ‘I am what you are searching for.’
If you are like Uloma with a past you wish you can run away from, filled with a fear of what people will think of you once they know the truth. I can’t promise you that all the people in your life will stand beside you or see you the same way, but I can assure you that Jesus loves you and what man can not handle he can handle. Don’t let shame and self-condemnation keep you away come to the Well where He awaits you, to give you just what you need.
TISCHIONI MOORE
(c) 2009
Thursday, 26 November 2009
Saturday, 21 November 2009
Meet Uloma 4
Thursday, the day before Ajuru’s departure came, that day I felt sick, so sick I did not go to school. My mother thought I was pretending it was not until I made myself throw-up that she began to show compassion and make a fuss over me.
I was thinking of how much I was going to miss Ajuru, and how long two years would be. I would start to cry as I thought about this, and then my mother would come into the room.
“Is it hurting you Nne?” she would ask worriedly.
I would nod, it was hurting me, not my stomach as I had told my mother, but the thought of being without Ajuru was hurting me.
Later in the day, not feeling any better, I told my mother I was, she asked me over and over:
“Are you sure? It was really bad earlier today.”
I would nod each time, I was off to see Udoka and get the assignments from school, that is what I told my mother, in truth I was off to see Ajuru, he would be leaving for the city this evening and from the city tomorrow, he would be off to England.
I got to Father Patrick’s house and made it undetected to Ajuru’s side of the house. I knocked on the door.
“My wife, I was worried. I heard you were not in school today? Are you okay?” Ajuru asked worriedly as soon as he opened the door and saw me.
I smiled at him and embraced him “I am much better now.” I said.
I walked into his room and it was bare, he had packed everything up. On the wall was an ironed white shirt and khaki trousers on a hanger, his outfit for later that evening.
“You can’t wait to leave me.” I brooded as I sat on the bed.
Ajuru knelt down before me and took my hand in his “Do not say a thing like that to me, when all I could think about as I packed my things was how to fit you into my suitcase.”
I looked at him and smiled, he laughed and sat next to me, my hand still in his.
“I love you Uloma, and I am coming back for you.” He spoke lovingly.
“I love you too Ajuru. I love you so much.” I said tears now in my eyes.
He held me and as I took in the scent of him for the last time in a long time, I began to cry, I could not remember a day without him, and I knew it would be hard for the next two years.
It happened that evening, I lost my virginity to him. As I walked home that evening, I suddenly had a scary thought, what if Ajuru does not come back? What then? What happens to me?
I stopped mid way on my journey home, and for a second I wanted to run back to Ajuru’s place and make him swear, to make him take an oath declaring he would come back to me.
I began to run towards his house, a smile on my face, yes, I would make him swear and he would and then he would have to come back. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me. I got to Ajuru’s place, I knocked on the door, called his name as loud as I could knowing Father Patrick would be home, but there was no answer.
I tried to open the door, and it did but Ajuru was not there. I had missed him. I slumped to the floor crying into my hands.
Ajuru never came back, never wrote a letter, never sent a picture, never! Years were passing by; no suitor was coming around as was previously assumed. My mother was worried, and I was worried for a different reason. I waited for Ajuru, I went to visit Father Patrick to find out about Ajuru, if he had heard from him, this was after the two years apart was becoming three. Alas, Father Patrick had become Father Donald, the new successor of the school, and he did not know of any Ajuru.
There was a knock on my father’s bedroom door. I immediately wiped my tears; I looked at my hand and saw that I had smeared the paint on my face.
My father walked into the room and on seeing me he smiled happily.
“Today is the day my daughter.” My father said cheerily.
I nodded. Today was the day indeed, the day when my secret relationship with Ajuru became known. As my aunties came into the room for me I wondered when was a good time to tell my husband about Ajuru, or was he better finding out on his own when I lay next to him later that night.
*This is the final part of Uloma's story. My notes on this story would be in the next post*
Thank You Myne for reading and leaving comments.
I was thinking of how much I was going to miss Ajuru, and how long two years would be. I would start to cry as I thought about this, and then my mother would come into the room.
“Is it hurting you Nne?” she would ask worriedly.
I would nod, it was hurting me, not my stomach as I had told my mother, but the thought of being without Ajuru was hurting me.
Later in the day, not feeling any better, I told my mother I was, she asked me over and over:
“Are you sure? It was really bad earlier today.”
I would nod each time, I was off to see Udoka and get the assignments from school, that is what I told my mother, in truth I was off to see Ajuru, he would be leaving for the city this evening and from the city tomorrow, he would be off to England.
I got to Father Patrick’s house and made it undetected to Ajuru’s side of the house. I knocked on the door.
“My wife, I was worried. I heard you were not in school today? Are you okay?” Ajuru asked worriedly as soon as he opened the door and saw me.
I smiled at him and embraced him “I am much better now.” I said.
I walked into his room and it was bare, he had packed everything up. On the wall was an ironed white shirt and khaki trousers on a hanger, his outfit for later that evening.
“You can’t wait to leave me.” I brooded as I sat on the bed.
Ajuru knelt down before me and took my hand in his “Do not say a thing like that to me, when all I could think about as I packed my things was how to fit you into my suitcase.”
I looked at him and smiled, he laughed and sat next to me, my hand still in his.
“I love you Uloma, and I am coming back for you.” He spoke lovingly.
“I love you too Ajuru. I love you so much.” I said tears now in my eyes.
He held me and as I took in the scent of him for the last time in a long time, I began to cry, I could not remember a day without him, and I knew it would be hard for the next two years.
It happened that evening, I lost my virginity to him. As I walked home that evening, I suddenly had a scary thought, what if Ajuru does not come back? What then? What happens to me?
I stopped mid way on my journey home, and for a second I wanted to run back to Ajuru’s place and make him swear, to make him take an oath declaring he would come back to me.
I began to run towards his house, a smile on my face, yes, I would make him swear and he would and then he would have to come back. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me. I got to Ajuru’s place, I knocked on the door, called his name as loud as I could knowing Father Patrick would be home, but there was no answer.
I tried to open the door, and it did but Ajuru was not there. I had missed him. I slumped to the floor crying into my hands.
Ajuru never came back, never wrote a letter, never sent a picture, never! Years were passing by; no suitor was coming around as was previously assumed. My mother was worried, and I was worried for a different reason. I waited for Ajuru, I went to visit Father Patrick to find out about Ajuru, if he had heard from him, this was after the two years apart was becoming three. Alas, Father Patrick had become Father Donald, the new successor of the school, and he did not know of any Ajuru.
There was a knock on my father’s bedroom door. I immediately wiped my tears; I looked at my hand and saw that I had smeared the paint on my face.
My father walked into the room and on seeing me he smiled happily.
“Today is the day my daughter.” My father said cheerily.
I nodded. Today was the day indeed, the day when my secret relationship with Ajuru became known. As my aunties came into the room for me I wondered when was a good time to tell my husband about Ajuru, or was he better finding out on his own when I lay next to him later that night.
*This is the final part of Uloma's story. My notes on this story would be in the next post*
Thank You Myne for reading and leaving comments.
Thursday, 19 November 2009
Meet Uloma 3
I helped Ajuru as he put the things he had brought from the market away; some went into the freezer others into the large spaced storage room. The kitchen was so immaculate, pots and pans stored in the locker above the stove, glasses and cups stacked nicely at a corner, everything was orderly and impressive.
“Come, let me show you where I stay.” Ajuru smiled after the tour of the house.
I was reluctant “won’t Father Patrick be home soon?” I asked.
“No, its just half-past two, he does not come home till four o’clock.” Ajuru said leaning against the kitchen door. He looked tired, his tie now draped over his shoulder, he looked tired but still handsome enough to make me nervous.
“Okay, okay, we can hang out here instead.” Ajuru said smiling.
The silence had gone on too long, it was until he spoke I realized that no one… that I had not said anything in almost a full minute.
Ajuru and I began to prepare Father Patrick’s meal; apparently Father Patrick liked yam pepper-soup with fresh fish. Ajuru and I worked together as a team, chopping up, stirring interchangeably.
“So why do you want to be a priest? Have you always wanted to be a priest?” I asked Ajuru as I watched him cut the yam into tiny pieces.
Ajuru paused and looked at me, that same coy smile returned. He walked over to me and said into my ears.
“I don’t want to be a priest.” He then smiled at me as he returned to what he was doing.
“So why are you…” I was saying a bit too loud, I moved towards him, and standing next to him I said in a whisper.
“So why are you training to be one?” I asked confused.
Ajuru smiled at me; he turned the pieces of yam into boiling water and covered the pot.
“Let’s not talk about this anymore… the wall has ears, and my ticket would be coming through any second now.” Ajuru said easily as he washed his hands in the sink.
“Take me with you!” I blurted out desperately.
“What?” Ajuru queried stunned, he stared at me perplexed.
I moved closer to him, my eyes pleading, “I don’t want to die in this village, I don’t want to live in my father’s tiny house all my life. I don’t want to be a village girl, I want to see England, I want what you want from life. I want an advantage.” I said not knowing when I took his hands in mine. Realizing this, I let it go.
Ajuru just stared at me for a good long second “Uloma, you are just a child.” He said.
“No! No I am fifteen years old you can marry me. My mother would be happy to be rid of me.” I said close to tears.
Ajuru smiled kindly at me and took hold of both my hands “Uloma…” he began.
“I thought you liked me. Don’t you like me Ajuru?” I asked.
Ajuru bowed his head before nodding.
“So, marry me, marry me… take me with you.” I pleaded.
“Uloma it does not work like that! I can not take you with me, I have to get there first, find my feet… meaning settle down, then, send for you, and that could take months, years even.” Ajuru said looking at me now, his eyes sad.
“How many months? How many years?” I queried.
“I don’t know.” Ajuru replied forlorn.
“Guess.” I said.
Ajuru stared at me, he let go of my left hand, as he stroked my face, he smiled.
“It may take two years at worst.” He said, pulling me closer to him.
“Can you wait two years for me? You are a beautiful girl you know, all this village men would want you, your parents may want to marry you off.” Ajuru said.
And I thought, he is right, two years is a long time, I would be seventeen, and my parents especially my mother would be worried and suspicious if I was always turning suitors away. But if Ajuru came back for me in two years, it would be worth it, my mother would not be so angry anymore in fact she would celebrate my choice and ‘wisdom’ at declining all those men, for this wonderful one that lives in England.
“Well?” Ajuru asked, bringing me back to earth.
“I would handle my parents, but in two years time come back for me.” I said suddenly feeling the urge to touch his face, but being too scared to.
“Two years is just a guess Uloma.” Ajuru reminded me.
“In two years Ajuru come back for me, settled or not, come back for me and make me your wife, and the rest would follow.” I replied touching his face now.
Ajuru smiled and kissed the back of my hand “I promise, I will come back for you and make you my wife.” He said and kissed the tip of my nose.
I could feel something was about to happen, the air in the room suddenly changed, we were both silent we just stood there inches apart staring at each other, and then we heard the horn of Father Patrick’s car.
“He is back!!” I squealed terrified.
“It is okay, we will go through my room at the back, there is a short cut to the road from there.
Ajuru took me by the hand and we made our way out of the house without being seen successfully.
So everyday after school for the next month was like this. We meet at the school compound, sometimes we go to the market, or the shoe repair man whatever errand Ajuru has for the day, we would go together and then return to Father Patrick’s house; although, after the first incident, we stayed at Ajuru’s side of the house which was small in comparison, but it had a kitchenette, a toilet and bathroom, and bedroom that had two plastic chairs up against the wall, and a mattress on the floor. Sometimes we would sit on the chair or lie next to each other on the bed talking about our future, we would day dream about where we would leave in England, the kind of money we would earn, how our children would start speaking ‘spree-spree’ like the White people. We would laugh out loud together as we talked about the future, I grew more in love with him, he had plans for his life, I never thought he was so ambitious; his ambition impressed and challenged me at the same time. Ajuru kissed me one day, just for half a second his lips touched mine, and it was his first as well as mine. We looked at each other awkwardly after that, I laughed first and he followed suit.
The first Friday of the new month came, I waited for Ajuru as usual, it was getting late it was past four in the evening. I was getting worried, and then I saw him, running towards me, waving a white envelope in his hand. I immediately knew what it was, and I began to jump up and down in excitement.
“My wife, this is it. Father Patrick just gave it to me!!” Ajuru said breathlessly.
He had begun calling me ‘my wife’ for the past three weeks; I liked the sound of it. Who wouldn’t?
“Let me see! Let me see!” I demanded giggling.
Ajuru nodded with trembling hands he opened the envelope and gave me the letter to read. I read the letter over twice, then embraced him and kissed him forgetting where I was.
Ajuru laughed as he pulled away looking around as though to ensure no one saw. Thankfully no one did.
“I am sorry. I am so excited my love.” I said smiling.
“I am too. I have to start packing my things together, I just have a week.” Ajuru said taking the letter from me.
“I will love to help you with your packing.” I said.
Ajuru nodded distractedly “I have to travel to see my parents to tell them.” He said more to himself than to me.
“Can I come, when are you thinking of going, make it a weekend.” I said excitedly as we began to walk towards Father Patrick’s house.
Ajuru looked at me “Uloma, you can’t come with me to see my parents.” He said gently.
“I can’t, why not? We are soon to be married right?” I queried.
“Only you and I know that because right now, I am still planning to be a priest. You know what that means right.” Ajuru said sounding peeved.
“Don’t use that tone with me. I am not stupid.” I said sulking now.
Ajuru looked out to be sure no one was around; he took hold of my hand and smiled at me.
“I am sorry. My wife forgive me, you know I would love for you to see my parents but not now, not when things are still like this.” He explained.
I smiled and nodded “I can’t wait for that day to come.” I said.
“Come, let me show you where I stay.” Ajuru smiled after the tour of the house.
I was reluctant “won’t Father Patrick be home soon?” I asked.
“No, its just half-past two, he does not come home till four o’clock.” Ajuru said leaning against the kitchen door. He looked tired, his tie now draped over his shoulder, he looked tired but still handsome enough to make me nervous.
“Okay, okay, we can hang out here instead.” Ajuru said smiling.
The silence had gone on too long, it was until he spoke I realized that no one… that I had not said anything in almost a full minute.
Ajuru and I began to prepare Father Patrick’s meal; apparently Father Patrick liked yam pepper-soup with fresh fish. Ajuru and I worked together as a team, chopping up, stirring interchangeably.
“So why do you want to be a priest? Have you always wanted to be a priest?” I asked Ajuru as I watched him cut the yam into tiny pieces.
Ajuru paused and looked at me, that same coy smile returned. He walked over to me and said into my ears.
“I don’t want to be a priest.” He then smiled at me as he returned to what he was doing.
“So why are you…” I was saying a bit too loud, I moved towards him, and standing next to him I said in a whisper.
“So why are you training to be one?” I asked confused.
Ajuru smiled at me; he turned the pieces of yam into boiling water and covered the pot.
“Let’s not talk about this anymore… the wall has ears, and my ticket would be coming through any second now.” Ajuru said easily as he washed his hands in the sink.
“Take me with you!” I blurted out desperately.
“What?” Ajuru queried stunned, he stared at me perplexed.
I moved closer to him, my eyes pleading, “I don’t want to die in this village, I don’t want to live in my father’s tiny house all my life. I don’t want to be a village girl, I want to see England, I want what you want from life. I want an advantage.” I said not knowing when I took his hands in mine. Realizing this, I let it go.
Ajuru just stared at me for a good long second “Uloma, you are just a child.” He said.
“No! No I am fifteen years old you can marry me. My mother would be happy to be rid of me.” I said close to tears.
Ajuru smiled kindly at me and took hold of both my hands “Uloma…” he began.
“I thought you liked me. Don’t you like me Ajuru?” I asked.
Ajuru bowed his head before nodding.
“So, marry me, marry me… take me with you.” I pleaded.
“Uloma it does not work like that! I can not take you with me, I have to get there first, find my feet… meaning settle down, then, send for you, and that could take months, years even.” Ajuru said looking at me now, his eyes sad.
“How many months? How many years?” I queried.
“I don’t know.” Ajuru replied forlorn.
“Guess.” I said.
Ajuru stared at me, he let go of my left hand, as he stroked my face, he smiled.
“It may take two years at worst.” He said, pulling me closer to him.
“Can you wait two years for me? You are a beautiful girl you know, all this village men would want you, your parents may want to marry you off.” Ajuru said.
And I thought, he is right, two years is a long time, I would be seventeen, and my parents especially my mother would be worried and suspicious if I was always turning suitors away. But if Ajuru came back for me in two years, it would be worth it, my mother would not be so angry anymore in fact she would celebrate my choice and ‘wisdom’ at declining all those men, for this wonderful one that lives in England.
“Well?” Ajuru asked, bringing me back to earth.
“I would handle my parents, but in two years time come back for me.” I said suddenly feeling the urge to touch his face, but being too scared to.
“Two years is just a guess Uloma.” Ajuru reminded me.
“In two years Ajuru come back for me, settled or not, come back for me and make me your wife, and the rest would follow.” I replied touching his face now.
Ajuru smiled and kissed the back of my hand “I promise, I will come back for you and make you my wife.” He said and kissed the tip of my nose.
I could feel something was about to happen, the air in the room suddenly changed, we were both silent we just stood there inches apart staring at each other, and then we heard the horn of Father Patrick’s car.
“He is back!!” I squealed terrified.
“It is okay, we will go through my room at the back, there is a short cut to the road from there.
Ajuru took me by the hand and we made our way out of the house without being seen successfully.
So everyday after school for the next month was like this. We meet at the school compound, sometimes we go to the market, or the shoe repair man whatever errand Ajuru has for the day, we would go together and then return to Father Patrick’s house; although, after the first incident, we stayed at Ajuru’s side of the house which was small in comparison, but it had a kitchenette, a toilet and bathroom, and bedroom that had two plastic chairs up against the wall, and a mattress on the floor. Sometimes we would sit on the chair or lie next to each other on the bed talking about our future, we would day dream about where we would leave in England, the kind of money we would earn, how our children would start speaking ‘spree-spree’ like the White people. We would laugh out loud together as we talked about the future, I grew more in love with him, he had plans for his life, I never thought he was so ambitious; his ambition impressed and challenged me at the same time. Ajuru kissed me one day, just for half a second his lips touched mine, and it was his first as well as mine. We looked at each other awkwardly after that, I laughed first and he followed suit.
The first Friday of the new month came, I waited for Ajuru as usual, it was getting late it was past four in the evening. I was getting worried, and then I saw him, running towards me, waving a white envelope in his hand. I immediately knew what it was, and I began to jump up and down in excitement.
“My wife, this is it. Father Patrick just gave it to me!!” Ajuru said breathlessly.
He had begun calling me ‘my wife’ for the past three weeks; I liked the sound of it. Who wouldn’t?
“Let me see! Let me see!” I demanded giggling.
Ajuru nodded with trembling hands he opened the envelope and gave me the letter to read. I read the letter over twice, then embraced him and kissed him forgetting where I was.
Ajuru laughed as he pulled away looking around as though to ensure no one saw. Thankfully no one did.
“I am sorry. I am so excited my love.” I said smiling.
“I am too. I have to start packing my things together, I just have a week.” Ajuru said taking the letter from me.
“I will love to help you with your packing.” I said.
Ajuru nodded distractedly “I have to travel to see my parents to tell them.” He said more to himself than to me.
“Can I come, when are you thinking of going, make it a weekend.” I said excitedly as we began to walk towards Father Patrick’s house.
Ajuru looked at me “Uloma, you can’t come with me to see my parents.” He said gently.
“I can’t, why not? We are soon to be married right?” I queried.
“Only you and I know that because right now, I am still planning to be a priest. You know what that means right.” Ajuru said sounding peeved.
“Don’t use that tone with me. I am not stupid.” I said sulking now.
Ajuru looked out to be sure no one was around; he took hold of my hand and smiled at me.
“I am sorry. My wife forgive me, you know I would love for you to see my parents but not now, not when things are still like this.” He explained.
I smiled and nodded “I can’t wait for that day to come.” I said.
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
Meet Uloma 2
Five years ago, I attended a catholic all girls’ school located ten miles from our village. From my village we were only three girls that got admission there, the uniform a pale grey and chocolate brown was so revered in our community, the two girls and I would put on this uniform and see people from the young to the old staring at us in awe, the naked children would run after us screaming in excitement, trying to touch us. That uniform made me feel like a queen, my parents were so proud of that respect accorded to them because of the school I attended.
I met Ajuru on a Monday afternoon, on the school compound, a tall, ruddy looking eighteen year old. He was talking to Father Patrick, the white man that ran the school. I was walking with Udoka that day, one of the girls from my village, I noticed Ajuru, his height made that a given, then I saw him look at me and give a distracted smile. I quickly looked away then.
The next time I saw Ajuru I was alone, it was a Friday afternoon, I was sitting under the ube tree in the school compound reading one of our literature books. I was so engrossed in the book that I did not notice when Ajuru came and sat next to me.
“Hello.” Ajuru said.
I jumped, startled, this made him laugh, I finally got myself together, my right hand on my chest, my eyes wide from excitement.
“You scared me!” I accused trying to steady the rhythm of my heart.
“What are you reading that got you so engrossed?” He asked taking the book from my hand.
“Engrossed? What does that mean?” I asked confused.
Ajuru smiled warmly at me as he placed the book between us. “Engrossed means when your attention has been taken up by something.”
“I see. Engrossed.” I smiled and nodded, thinking of how I would confuse my mother with this new word.
“My name is Ajuru. What is your name?” he asked slouching against the tree and unfastening his blue tie.
“My name is Uloma, I am in form five, I write my final exams soon.” I said excitedly, the thought of finishing with secondary school thrilled me.
Ajuru looked at me amused, he had probably caught the excitement in my voice. He nodded as he looked at the book I had been reading before.
“So, what do you do?” I asked angling myself towards him. He looked so handsome, and full of life.
“I help Father Patrick out with things at home…” he was saying.
“Like his house-boy.” I piped in.
Ajuru looked offended by this, his eyes narrowed as his jaw tightened.
“I am not his house-boy!!” he scoffed angrily.
“I am sorry, I just thought…” I began to apologise timidly.
“If you must know Uloma, I would be going to England very soon. Father Patrick is seeing to it, I am going to the seminary school there to train to be a priest.” Ajuru said proudly.
“Really? You are going to obodo oyinbo?” I asked excitedly, all I ever heard about that place was beautiful things, the streets were very clean, no one was poor there, and everybody had a car and big houses. I was impressed.
Ajuru’s face relaxed, he folded his arms across his chest, he lazily closed his eyes a smile etched on his face now.
“Yes, in a month’s time or so, I will be in the land of the greats. Eating the white man’s food, living the life of a white man.” He said as he opened his eyes, he looked at me and smiled.
“So you want to become a Priest? Why?” I asked becoming more and more interested in this young man.
Ajuru just smiled coyly at me.
The bell went out, break-time was over, and I was so reluctant to go. I began to pack my books when Ajuru took hold of my arm. It was a gentle grasp, our eyes met. Ajuru smiled jovially at me,
“I will see you again.” He said as he let go of my arm.
I nodded, feeling my tummy do funny things I ran off towards my class feeling his eyes on me.
All I could think about was Ajuru and his new life in England; I was so happy for him and jealous at the same time. Over dinner I asked my father about England, one of his secondary school mate has been there for over six years, and often sends pictures.
“England? What about it?” my father said licking his fingers; my mum had made his favourite, oha soup with pounded yam.
“Is it nice?” I asked playing with my food. My mother shot me a disapproving look.
“Dinner table is for eating not talking.” My mother said annoyed.
“Nneka allow this child to have a curious mind.” My father said coming to my defence as usual.
“Is it not curiosity that killed the cat? Besides she is a girl, girls do not need curious minds, they need to know how to be good wives.” My mother argued vehemently and shot me a dirty look, I bowed my head contrite. Oge 6 years old then, just stared at the ‘grown-ups’ at the table.
My father tapped me gently; I lifted my head to look at him.
“England is more than nice, Obim, England is beautiful. Think of England as a place that has everything you could possibly want in life.” My father said and smiled at me.
“Rubbish.” My mother muttered to herself as she helped Oge cut her meat into tiny pieces.
My father ignored her, so did I besides, I was caught up in his description of England.
“Can a girl go to England?” I asked naively.
My father looked at me then confused, “ a girl can go anywhere. But not you my dear, you are not going to England.” My father smiled.
“Why not?” I challenged.
I saw my mother trying to hide a smile; she looked at my father as if to say ‘answer your curious daughter now’.
My father smiled in his gentle way “because we will miss you, and your family is here.” He said this and looking briefly at my mother, he excused himself from the table.
“As soon as you finish secondary school, you will get married, if your husband wants to live in England you can follow him.” My mother said wiping Oge’s mouth with her wrapper.
I said nothing in response, I began to think of how I could get Ajuru to marry me and take me with him.
The next afternoon after school, I refused to go home with Udoka the girl from my village. I lied I had to see one of my teachers, but in truth I was hanging around hoping to bump into Ajuru again.
I wandered around school idly; I began to contemplate going home when I heard someone call my name from the front gate of the school. It was Ajuru on his motto-bike; he had two heavy bags filled with Yam, fresh fish, potatoes, and beans on the back seat of his bike.
I waved to him and ran towards him happily.
“Hello lady.” Ajuru smiled at me as he took off his helmet.
I blushed, he just called me a lady, and I laughed shyly. “Are you just coming from the market?” I asked as I took a peak at the contents of the bag.
“Yes, I guess I am a house-boy.” Ajuru laughed noncommittally.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you are going to England really soon.” I replied.
Ajuru laughed heartily then and nodded “I guess it doesn’t.”
I followed Ajuru to the house of Father Patrick, it was a well furnished bungalow, on the wall were different portraits of saints, angels, Mary mother of Jesus and in the hall-way there was a big crucifix with Jesus hanging from it. It looked so real I gasped in fear and jumped into Ajuru’s arms. He held me, laughing. I pushed him away playfully feeling embarrassed.
I met Ajuru on a Monday afternoon, on the school compound, a tall, ruddy looking eighteen year old. He was talking to Father Patrick, the white man that ran the school. I was walking with Udoka that day, one of the girls from my village, I noticed Ajuru, his height made that a given, then I saw him look at me and give a distracted smile. I quickly looked away then.
The next time I saw Ajuru I was alone, it was a Friday afternoon, I was sitting under the ube tree in the school compound reading one of our literature books. I was so engrossed in the book that I did not notice when Ajuru came and sat next to me.
“Hello.” Ajuru said.
I jumped, startled, this made him laugh, I finally got myself together, my right hand on my chest, my eyes wide from excitement.
“You scared me!” I accused trying to steady the rhythm of my heart.
“What are you reading that got you so engrossed?” He asked taking the book from my hand.
“Engrossed? What does that mean?” I asked confused.
Ajuru smiled warmly at me as he placed the book between us. “Engrossed means when your attention has been taken up by something.”
“I see. Engrossed.” I smiled and nodded, thinking of how I would confuse my mother with this new word.
“My name is Ajuru. What is your name?” he asked slouching against the tree and unfastening his blue tie.
“My name is Uloma, I am in form five, I write my final exams soon.” I said excitedly, the thought of finishing with secondary school thrilled me.
Ajuru looked at me amused, he had probably caught the excitement in my voice. He nodded as he looked at the book I had been reading before.
“So, what do you do?” I asked angling myself towards him. He looked so handsome, and full of life.
“I help Father Patrick out with things at home…” he was saying.
“Like his house-boy.” I piped in.
Ajuru looked offended by this, his eyes narrowed as his jaw tightened.
“I am not his house-boy!!” he scoffed angrily.
“I am sorry, I just thought…” I began to apologise timidly.
“If you must know Uloma, I would be going to England very soon. Father Patrick is seeing to it, I am going to the seminary school there to train to be a priest.” Ajuru said proudly.
“Really? You are going to obodo oyinbo?” I asked excitedly, all I ever heard about that place was beautiful things, the streets were very clean, no one was poor there, and everybody had a car and big houses. I was impressed.
Ajuru’s face relaxed, he folded his arms across his chest, he lazily closed his eyes a smile etched on his face now.
“Yes, in a month’s time or so, I will be in the land of the greats. Eating the white man’s food, living the life of a white man.” He said as he opened his eyes, he looked at me and smiled.
“So you want to become a Priest? Why?” I asked becoming more and more interested in this young man.
Ajuru just smiled coyly at me.
The bell went out, break-time was over, and I was so reluctant to go. I began to pack my books when Ajuru took hold of my arm. It was a gentle grasp, our eyes met. Ajuru smiled jovially at me,
“I will see you again.” He said as he let go of my arm.
I nodded, feeling my tummy do funny things I ran off towards my class feeling his eyes on me.
All I could think about was Ajuru and his new life in England; I was so happy for him and jealous at the same time. Over dinner I asked my father about England, one of his secondary school mate has been there for over six years, and often sends pictures.
“England? What about it?” my father said licking his fingers; my mum had made his favourite, oha soup with pounded yam.
“Is it nice?” I asked playing with my food. My mother shot me a disapproving look.
“Dinner table is for eating not talking.” My mother said annoyed.
“Nneka allow this child to have a curious mind.” My father said coming to my defence as usual.
“Is it not curiosity that killed the cat? Besides she is a girl, girls do not need curious minds, they need to know how to be good wives.” My mother argued vehemently and shot me a dirty look, I bowed my head contrite. Oge 6 years old then, just stared at the ‘grown-ups’ at the table.
My father tapped me gently; I lifted my head to look at him.
“England is more than nice, Obim, England is beautiful. Think of England as a place that has everything you could possibly want in life.” My father said and smiled at me.
“Rubbish.” My mother muttered to herself as she helped Oge cut her meat into tiny pieces.
My father ignored her, so did I besides, I was caught up in his description of England.
“Can a girl go to England?” I asked naively.
My father looked at me then confused, “ a girl can go anywhere. But not you my dear, you are not going to England.” My father smiled.
“Why not?” I challenged.
I saw my mother trying to hide a smile; she looked at my father as if to say ‘answer your curious daughter now’.
My father smiled in his gentle way “because we will miss you, and your family is here.” He said this and looking briefly at my mother, he excused himself from the table.
“As soon as you finish secondary school, you will get married, if your husband wants to live in England you can follow him.” My mother said wiping Oge’s mouth with her wrapper.
I said nothing in response, I began to think of how I could get Ajuru to marry me and take me with him.
The next afternoon after school, I refused to go home with Udoka the girl from my village. I lied I had to see one of my teachers, but in truth I was hanging around hoping to bump into Ajuru again.
I wandered around school idly; I began to contemplate going home when I heard someone call my name from the front gate of the school. It was Ajuru on his motto-bike; he had two heavy bags filled with Yam, fresh fish, potatoes, and beans on the back seat of his bike.
I waved to him and ran towards him happily.
“Hello lady.” Ajuru smiled at me as he took off his helmet.
I blushed, he just called me a lady, and I laughed shyly. “Are you just coming from the market?” I asked as I took a peak at the contents of the bag.
“Yes, I guess I am a house-boy.” Ajuru laughed noncommittally.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you are going to England really soon.” I replied.
Ajuru laughed heartily then and nodded “I guess it doesn’t.”
I followed Ajuru to the house of Father Patrick, it was a well furnished bungalow, on the wall were different portraits of saints, angels, Mary mother of Jesus and in the hall-way there was a big crucifix with Jesus hanging from it. It looked so real I gasped in fear and jumped into Ajuru’s arms. He held me, laughing. I pushed him away playfully feeling embarrassed.
Sunday, 8 November 2009
Meet Uloma...
It was a hot Saturday afternoon, middle of November, the air was dry, and the wind was hash. It was that kind of weather that caused one to pile on large amounts of Vaseline only to have the wind drink it up in a second. The dust was another terrible thing this time of year, it was every where, heavy and suffocating, it was always a terrible time for Oge, my 11 year old kid sister, she is asthmatic, you see, so this weather always triggered an attack, some mild most times scary. Our mother kept Oge from going out and playing on the dusty road path with her friends, Oge was also exempt from housework; especially cooking the smoke from the firewood affected her too. My mother is very protective of Oge, and keeps her close to her at all times always fearing the worst that would happen if she is let out of her sight. Our father on the other hand was protective of both his daughters, we were equally helpless, equally vulnerable, equally in need of protection, attention is a more appropriate word; I believe that’s why I love my father more. He was there for both my sister and I in the same way.
I had seen my future-in-laws a couple of times, when the wedding rites were being done, they were from Ngibidi two villages away from ours. I had seen my in-laws but I was yet to set my eyes on my husband, Nicolas Egu. All I knew about him was what I had heard, that he was a man of the city, a junior member of the administrative staff at one of the big hotels in the city. I had been worried initially when I heard about him; my concern was on various things, one of my many fears was if this Nicolas would be ugly. Yes, I feared he would be ugly, that he would look like a monkey, hairy and grotesque just like Ndidi’s husband Agu, whenever I meet with Ndidi at the Village market, she is always lamenting about her husband, apparently he is not only repulsive to look at but he also smells! Poor Ndidi, she is pregnant now, I am praying the poor child takes nothing from the father.
My fear of my future husband Nicolas’s looks was sedated a month ago when I was bold enough to get a good look at his father, a handsome charismatic man, I also over heard him say something about how his son bore a striking resemblance to him. I said a prayer of thanks as I peeped conspicuously through the curtains watching both families gathered in front of our house to begin discussions and receiving of gifts. Nicolas could not be present when all this was happening, his impressive job in the city made it impossible to leave at that time, but on that Saturday he was free and now on his way to take me his Bride.
That Saturday, my mother was bouncing with energy, she was like a restless fly buzzing everywhere, supervising the cooking going on at the back of the house, and attending to people from our village that began to show up and take seats My father had gone to the farm very early and was not yet back, my mother had sent one of my male cousins to go and get him before ‘our in-laws show up’ my mother had said excitedly, I could tell she enjoyed saying that word ‘in-laws’ she loved the way it rolled gracefully from her tongue. She said the word ‘in-law’ softly as though if she said it any more emphatically it would break and this wonderful dream that was her first daughter Uloma getting married before she turned twenty would be snatched viciously from her.
Yes, I was going to be twenty in two months, and my mother was worried, worried that from the moment my hips formed and my breasts had matured from tiny grapes no man had come to knock on the door and ‘ask about me’. My mother went as far as sending me on meaningless errands.
“Go to Papa Emeka’s house, eh. When you get there ask for Emeka, let him take you to that fishmonger he will give you a message.’ My mother said this avoiding looking me in the eye.
By this time I knew there was no message, I would get there and people I was sent to would just stare at me unaware of ‘the message’ they were to have for my mother. My mother’s thinking was if I were seen parading the streets of our village someone, would see me and be interested. And though I hate to admit it she was right. It was when I was making my way back from another meaningless errand, that a woman stopped me and began to ask questions about my family and my person. The woman later turned out to be my Mother-in-law, who had come to our village to buy fish. We have the tastiest fish in our community.
So fast-forward to today, the day where my husband was now coming to take me to be with him. It was weird thinking of it that way; suddenly I didn’t belong in my father’s house. I would say I did not belong there many years before.
My mind was jumping from one thought to another as the women in the room who surrounded me as I sat on a wooden stool pulled me from one end to another. Oge sat quietly at my feet, staring in a mesmerized way as my face was being painted. She noticed me smiling at her and she smiled in her shy way before running off.
“Are you excited Uloma?” a woman behind me asked, I was sure it was my father’s half sister, the one we do not like but pretend to.
“I hear he is very successful… even has a house in the city. Is this true Uloma?” One of the women painting my face said, I inhaled her stale breath and rubbed at my nose innocently.
“Of course it is true… how else can he afford to refurnish his fathers house. You have not been to his fathers place have you Uloma? Never mind, today is the day for that.” Another would say.
“Amongst other things.” Someone whimpered causing feminine giggles to flood the room.
My heart beat wildly at that comment; it was so loud I heard nothing else after that. Today was the day my husband would find out that I am not a virgin, today was the day that someone other than Ajuru and I would be aware of this secret.
I suddenly stood to my feet, the women not masking their irritation at this.
“Where do you think you are going?” my father’s half sister said scratching her armpit energetically.
I would have laughed but suddenly I felt sick and suffocated, I needed air.
“Are you okay?” one of the younger women in the room asked me she looked concerned.
“I just need to go to the toilet.” I said and bolted out of the room before any of them could stop me.
I got into my father’s bedroom a barely furnished room, with a wooden table and chair opposite the window, and the old spring bed. He and my mother had not shared the same room in five years. I wonder if they ever thought as newly weds that they would want to have separate bedrooms. I sat on the bed and smiled wistfully as it made that squeaking sound. Something about that sound brought Ajuru to mind again, probably because it sounded like his laugh, the opening of his laugh; his laugh began in a high-pitched manner and as though changing gears, it became deep and hoarse. Ajuru he was so childlike when he laughed I loved making him laugh....
(C) Tischioni Moore/2009
I had seen my future-in-laws a couple of times, when the wedding rites were being done, they were from Ngibidi two villages away from ours. I had seen my in-laws but I was yet to set my eyes on my husband, Nicolas Egu. All I knew about him was what I had heard, that he was a man of the city, a junior member of the administrative staff at one of the big hotels in the city. I had been worried initially when I heard about him; my concern was on various things, one of my many fears was if this Nicolas would be ugly. Yes, I feared he would be ugly, that he would look like a monkey, hairy and grotesque just like Ndidi’s husband Agu, whenever I meet with Ndidi at the Village market, she is always lamenting about her husband, apparently he is not only repulsive to look at but he also smells! Poor Ndidi, she is pregnant now, I am praying the poor child takes nothing from the father.
My fear of my future husband Nicolas’s looks was sedated a month ago when I was bold enough to get a good look at his father, a handsome charismatic man, I also over heard him say something about how his son bore a striking resemblance to him. I said a prayer of thanks as I peeped conspicuously through the curtains watching both families gathered in front of our house to begin discussions and receiving of gifts. Nicolas could not be present when all this was happening, his impressive job in the city made it impossible to leave at that time, but on that Saturday he was free and now on his way to take me his Bride.
That Saturday, my mother was bouncing with energy, she was like a restless fly buzzing everywhere, supervising the cooking going on at the back of the house, and attending to people from our village that began to show up and take seats My father had gone to the farm very early and was not yet back, my mother had sent one of my male cousins to go and get him before ‘our in-laws show up’ my mother had said excitedly, I could tell she enjoyed saying that word ‘in-laws’ she loved the way it rolled gracefully from her tongue. She said the word ‘in-law’ softly as though if she said it any more emphatically it would break and this wonderful dream that was her first daughter Uloma getting married before she turned twenty would be snatched viciously from her.
Yes, I was going to be twenty in two months, and my mother was worried, worried that from the moment my hips formed and my breasts had matured from tiny grapes no man had come to knock on the door and ‘ask about me’. My mother went as far as sending me on meaningless errands.
“Go to Papa Emeka’s house, eh. When you get there ask for Emeka, let him take you to that fishmonger he will give you a message.’ My mother said this avoiding looking me in the eye.
By this time I knew there was no message, I would get there and people I was sent to would just stare at me unaware of ‘the message’ they were to have for my mother. My mother’s thinking was if I were seen parading the streets of our village someone, would see me and be interested. And though I hate to admit it she was right. It was when I was making my way back from another meaningless errand, that a woman stopped me and began to ask questions about my family and my person. The woman later turned out to be my Mother-in-law, who had come to our village to buy fish. We have the tastiest fish in our community.
So fast-forward to today, the day where my husband was now coming to take me to be with him. It was weird thinking of it that way; suddenly I didn’t belong in my father’s house. I would say I did not belong there many years before.
My mind was jumping from one thought to another as the women in the room who surrounded me as I sat on a wooden stool pulled me from one end to another. Oge sat quietly at my feet, staring in a mesmerized way as my face was being painted. She noticed me smiling at her and she smiled in her shy way before running off.
“Are you excited Uloma?” a woman behind me asked, I was sure it was my father’s half sister, the one we do not like but pretend to.
“I hear he is very successful… even has a house in the city. Is this true Uloma?” One of the women painting my face said, I inhaled her stale breath and rubbed at my nose innocently.
“Of course it is true… how else can he afford to refurnish his fathers house. You have not been to his fathers place have you Uloma? Never mind, today is the day for that.” Another would say.
“Amongst other things.” Someone whimpered causing feminine giggles to flood the room.
My heart beat wildly at that comment; it was so loud I heard nothing else after that. Today was the day my husband would find out that I am not a virgin, today was the day that someone other than Ajuru and I would be aware of this secret.
I suddenly stood to my feet, the women not masking their irritation at this.
“Where do you think you are going?” my father’s half sister said scratching her armpit energetically.
I would have laughed but suddenly I felt sick and suffocated, I needed air.
“Are you okay?” one of the younger women in the room asked me she looked concerned.
“I just need to go to the toilet.” I said and bolted out of the room before any of them could stop me.
I got into my father’s bedroom a barely furnished room, with a wooden table and chair opposite the window, and the old spring bed. He and my mother had not shared the same room in five years. I wonder if they ever thought as newly weds that they would want to have separate bedrooms. I sat on the bed and smiled wistfully as it made that squeaking sound. Something about that sound brought Ajuru to mind again, probably because it sounded like his laugh, the opening of his laugh; his laugh began in a high-pitched manner and as though changing gears, it became deep and hoarse. Ajuru he was so childlike when he laughed I loved making him laugh....
(C) Tischioni Moore/2009
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