For Blood And Country

February 25, 2014 - FOLAKEMI

It was Tuesday. I wasn't thinking about the transfer to Jos today. I try not to bother my supervisor about it so I made sure to ask about only once a week, and that was if he didn’t bring it up. I figured it was too early in the week to ask him, so I had pushed Jos to the back of my mind that morning. When he called me into his office, my mind was on work, thinking I had a new assignment or something else like the last report I submitted, maybe it needed adjustment – anything. Instead he told me with a smile that a response just arrived from Human Resources for me. I stood there dumfounded for a moment and it was then it dawned on me that if my request was granted it meant I had been given the chance I wanted so badly. I could make Nigeria better in my way. The people deserved to know what is actually happening seeing that most media houses were under the control of the federal government, and whatever news they gave was distorted. Like I strongly believed that there was a cover up involved in the Baga slaughter of innocent civilians. No matter how hard the government was working to put an end to the insurgence, it didn't give the military right to kill innocent civilians. And with the letter came the actual possibility of the chance to find out the truth and tell the people. They had to know that the government was to be feared as much as Boko Haram, because there seemed to be no line the government wouldn't cross to fight the Boko Haram- even killing civilians.

An opportunity.

But instead of being elated, I was dazed. My brain needed time to process it.

"It arrived this morning," my supervisor was saying. "But I'm sure its good news." I collected the letter from him and thanked him. I didn't know what to do so I headed to the storeroom where I could be alone and read the letter My mind barely registered the questioning look on Doyin's face as I walked by. Heart beating fast, I ripped open the envelop and held my breath as I unfolded the letter. I skipped the formalities after I saw "congratulations". Then the letter said, there were measures to be taken and observations that were needed to be made before my request could be approved, and I had met the requirements.

My knees went weak and I had to lean into a shelf to stop me from falling. That was it, what I had been waiting for months to get, what the whole fuss with my family was about. The opportunity I so much craved. There it was it my hands and I didn’t even know how to feel in that moment. What if I really wasn’t up to the task?

I went back out to get my phone and avoided Doyin's eyes again as I headed back to the store. I was going to call my mother but I decided against it and dialled uncle Tade's number instead.

"Hello uncle."

"Folakemi, how are you?"

"I'm fine, uncle. Are you still in Lagos?"

"Yes dear. Hope no problem?"

"No, I just need to talk to you about something, if you're free."

"Okay, what time do you close from work?"

"I can leave anytime now, depends on when you are free."

"Uhm, it's almost four. Meet me at the Food Republik in an hour."

***********

About an hour later, I was sitting in front of my uncle in Food Republik, a restaurant along Admiralty way in Lekki Phase I. It was a new restaurant when I visited the place for the first time on the night of my convocation. Uncle Tade told me he was going to give me a taste of a good life – an adult life – and he was right. The food there was the best I had ever tasted. They served both African and Continental dishes, along with pastries and I wondered why they had not expanded. Ever since then, whenever I wanted to treat myself to something special, I always went there. But I was yet to decide if I deserved to be treated special now. I already ordered for drinks while I waited. Truth be told, food was the last thing on my mind then, but my uncle said he was famished and I should not just sit there and watch him while he ate so I ordered a chicken pie.

When he was done, He asked what I wanted to talk about and I handed him the letter. As he went through it I saw his face brighten up. "This is good news, right?" he asked after seeing the bland look on my face when he congratulated me.

"Yes it is, uncle." I said. "I mean, this is what I've wanted all along, it's the reason I joined Limelight in the first place. A chance to do real journalism, something I'm passionate about, but now that the letter has arrived…"

"It feels surreal."

"Yes, like is this really happening. And am I ready for this?"

"It's normal for you to feel like that. In fact, I'll be worried if you don't feel this way, because what you are going for is a very serious thing and could be dangerous. But what matters, my dear is you know why you wanted this in the first place. You know what you're aiming to achieve." He said. Then he leaned forward and cleared his throat. "Even though I don't understand why you are doing it; I know you are old enough to make your own decisions as long as you are convinced it is for the right reasons."

"What are the right reasons?" I asked, not that I didn't know, but I needed someone to say it to me out loud, someone I really trusted to maybe talk some sense into me in a reasonable way, someone to tell me if I was being foolish. But instead he said, "That's up to you, my dear. Just promise me you are not risking your life to get back at your parents, because I'm sure as hell there couldn't be any reason more wrong than that."

I understood that. I just wasn't sure myself if that was not part of what was now driving me. I mean, I really wanted to be a real investigative journalist but I couldn't get what my dad said out of my head and it kept filling me with a kind of fury and determination.

"It says here you are to resume next week. That early?" My uncle said scanning through the letter again.

"Yes."

"Hmm. At least you have time to go say goodbye to your family." I didn't say anything.

"You've thought about what I told you last week, right?"

"Yes, I have... I mean, I still am."

I knew then I wasn't going to my parent's. I wasn't going back until I have made progress that I could show, but I didn't say that to my uncle. I guess he knew deep down I wasn't going home.