Always in my Heart

Memories

Chukwuma seemed to anticipate his reluctance and, with a knowing smile, pulled out a rolled-up copy of 'Chemical Review Africa' from under his arm.

Adeyemi could not help but smile wryly as he saw the magazine. "And who is the featured chemist this time?" he asked, already bracing for another of Mr. Chukwuma's surprises.

"What could you possibly mean by that?" Chukwuma asked with a playful smirk, flicking off the classroom lights and stepping into the corridor, his eyes scanning the latest issue of 'Chemical Review Africa'. "Ah, here is an intriguing piece."

Adeyemi locked his classroom door, bracing himself for the inevitable. "I am listening," he said, though he knew what was coming.

"An article by Jeremy Okoro. Is this not his third publication in five years?" Chukwuma inquired, a hint of pride in his voice.

"You have been keeping track, not me," Adeyemi replied with a light - hearted roll of his eyes.

"He was in your postgraduate program, right?" Chukwuma pressed on.

Adeyemi let out a weary sigh. "Yes, and I practically had to carry him through our thermodynamics course. He once caused a minor flood in the lab by forgetting a burner on overnight."

"And now he is published in a renowned journal,

"Chukwuma pointed out.

"Chukwuma, you are doing that thing again. I am content here. I enjoy teaching, "Adeyemi insisted.

"Just ensuring you are aware of the broader horizons beyond Lagos High, "Chukwuma said, his tone serious.

"I know, and it has been a fulfilling path for you too," Adeyemi acknowledged.

Chukwuma nodded affirmatively. "Indeed."

"And you have never had any regrets, correct?

"Adeyemi asked.

"About teaching? Never, "Chukwuma replied firmly.

Mr. Adeyemi gestured towards the journal. "In any case, these publications are often more about prestige than substance."

"That may be true. But have you considered the opportunities at Nitrovex too?" Mr. Chukwuma continued, undeterred. "They're doing some impressive work there."

Mr. Adeyemi shook his head with a chuckle. "What are you suggesting, that you want me gone?"

"Not at all. It is just that they are expanding globally, and it could be a good fit for you," Chukwuma explained.

"I have heard," Adeyemi admitted. "But the idea of leaving my students for a corporate position does not sit well with me."

"I could introduce you to John Wells there. He values my recommendations," Chukwuma offered as they approached the school's exit.

Mr. Adeyemi waved at a student passing by. "I appreciate it, but my place is here, for now."

"Your students do need you, "Chukwuma agreed, "but remember, no one is irreplaceable."

Adeyemi responded with a dramatic flourish. "You are speaking to the Science Teacher of the Year, my friend."

"My sincerest respects Mr Adeyemi "Chukwuma replied with a mock bow.

"Besides, Nitrovex is focused on organic chemistry. My passion lies with biochemistry, "Adeyemi added as they stepped outside.

"Understood. I am where I belong," Mr. Adeyemi affirmed, keys in hand. "Shall we head to Mama Eko's?"

Chukwuma seemed to consider saying more but simply nodded. "Of course, let us go. " They walked together, the weight of the day lifting with each step towards their favorite local haunt.

Outside the school gates, Adeyemi unlocked his reliable old Toyota Corolla with a beep of the key fob. He paused for a moment, the Lagos sun casting long shadows on the ground, and pondered his current crossroads. Was he truly content at Lagos High, inspiring the handful of students who showed a spark of interest in the wonders of chemistry? Or was he simply comfortable in the familiarity of his hometown, where he had become a fixture much like the ancient iroko tree in the schoolyard?

He glanced at the latest issue of 'Chemical Review Africa' resting on the passenger seat, its cover boasting advancements that seemed worlds away from his daily routine. Could Chukwuma be right? Was it time for a change, a step up to new challenges?

Sliding into the driver's seat, he placed his briefcase beside him, filled with papers that seemed to echo the same questions year after year. The brochure from Kings College in Ikoyi slipped from the pile and landed at his feet. The campus, with its verdant lawns and grand colonial architecture, beckoned with the promise of eager minds and prestigious opportunities. With his qualifications, particularly his master's degree, he was more than equipped to take on such a role.

Did he deserve a more illustrious position? How many more lackluster grades from disengaged students could he accept before questioning his impact? It was not that he did not appreciate Mr. Chukwuma's mentorship, but did he envision his entire career within the walls of Lagos High? He had never ventured far, except for his university days.

If not for his father's expectations...

No, he would not let old reservations dictate his future. Perhaps it was worth exploring the possibility, attending an interview or two — nothing ventured, nothing gained. He started the engine and shifted into reverse, the hum of the car mingling with the distant sounds of the bustling city.

And then there was Ikoyi, a district pulsing with life and opportunities. But he quickly dismissed the thought. It had been over a decade since that fateful day at the scholarship fair, the day he inadvertently shattered a young student's dreams. He often reassured himself that it was all in the past, a chapter closed long ago, meant to be left behind like an awkward school photo or a forgotten lunchbox.

Yet, for some, like that student, the past was not just a memory; it was a defining moment. And for Adeyemi, it was a reminder of the weight of his actions, a weight he still carried with him as he drove away from the school, the city's skyline reflecting in his rearview mirror.

***

Twelve Years Ago

Adeyemi's project for the Lagos Science Fair was a model of a chemical propulsion engine. Winning the scholarship wasn't his main concern; he simply didn't want to let down his mentor, Mr. Olabode

He stole a glance at Kemi, who was polishing a smudge off her tablet at the adjacent table. Their names had always been alphabetically linked — Brady and then Cole — binding their academic journey from primary school through university. He cherished this serendipitous fate.

Kemi was unlike anyone else. With her, Adeyemi felt a profound sense of ease, a connection that both comforted and flustered him. He recalled an article about the chemistry of human connections, and it all made sense.

When she had asked for his input on her project earlier that summer, he wondered if it was a sign of a deeper bond forming between them. Their friendship was a constant, but as they matured, so did his feelings.

The realization hit him like a catalyst sparking a reaction, especially that day he saw her washing her father's car, the sun highlighting her features. It was more than her physical beauty; it was the way her laughter filled the air, the constellation of freckles across her cheeks, and the scent of her perfume — was it 'Fortunate'? He enjoyed being around her, even if it was just to offer advice on her intricate wire and glass sculpture.

As the fair's announcer began calling out the judging process, Adeyemi double-checked the connections on his model. Kemi had poured her soul into her artwork, and even though he was a man of science, he recognized its brilliance. The judges, including the wife of Nitrovex's CEO, an art enthusiast, would surely see its value.

Adeyemi hoped, deep down, that Kemi would triumph. Her confidence was palpable, and he could not help but wish for her success. As he adjusted his model, his thoughts lingered on the possibility of her winning, a testament to her talent and their shared journey through the years.

Even back in their junior secondary days, Kemi had harbored dreams of attending a prestigious art academy, though she knew her parents harbored reservations. Adeyemi understood that a scholarship could be the key to unlocking that door for her.

As the judges made their way through the rows of projects, Adeyemi resisted the urge to make any more adjustments to his model. He stepped back, assuring himself that his work was complete, and any further tampering might only lead to mishaps.

"Mr. Cole, it seems you have outdone yourself, "came the familiar voice of Mr. Olabode, his mentor's face wreathed in a proud smile.

"Thank you, sir. I have double-checked everything. It should function as intended," Adeyemi replied, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Mr. Olabode patted him on the back. "I have no doubt. Using chemical reactions for propulsion — quite innovative. It has real-world application potential."

Adeyemi felt a surge of pride at his teacher's words. Mr. Olabode gave him an encouraging wink and continued down the line of projects.

A sudden jab in his side startled him, causing him to bump into the table. A component of his model rolled off and clattered onto the floor, drawing the attention of everyone nearby, including Kemi, who quickly shielded her artwork.

"Watch where you are going, Peju!" Adeyemi exclaimed.

Peju, his new neighbor who had moved in during the last term break, was always cheerful and shared his interest in science, but sometimes her enthusiasm was overwhelming. She was quite popular among their peers, her striking features often the subject of conversation. Yet, for Adeyemi, there was only one person who caught his eye, and she was busy with her sculpture.

"Sorry about that," Peju said with a grin, flipping her hair in a dramatic fashion that seemed all too common among the girls at school.

"What is this contraption supposed to do? It looks complex, "she inquired, reaching out to touch the model's tubing.

Adeyemi quickly intercepted her hand. "Careful, it's sensitive. You might activate it prematurely."

She withdrew her hand, looking slightly embarrassed. "My apologies."

He offered a forgiving smile. "No harm done. The judges will be here soon, and after that, you can examine it all you want."

Peju seemed puzzled by his response, and Adeyemi felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment. He desperately searched for a way to divert her attention.

"Okay," she said after a pause that felt like an eternity. She glanced at the next table. "Do you think Kemi stands a chance?"

Adeyemi welcomed the change of subject. "Kemi? Absolutely. She is as likely to win as anyone here, perhaps even more so."

"If she does, it will be thanks to your help," Peju remarked.

"I merely offered some advice. The real effort was all hers," Adeyemi insisted.

Peju seemed skeptical but wished him luck nonetheless. "I will come back later to see how you have done," she said, tossing her hair once more before walking away, casting a critical eye over Kemi's sculpture.

"Thank you," Adeyemi managed to say, regretting that he had ever mentioned Kemi's request for his assistance. He knew the rules about external help, but surely the support of a fellow student was permissible

He caught Kemi's gaze, her expression stern and piercing. Had he upset her?

Before he could ponder further, the judges arrived at her table, and the following moments became a whirlwind of elation and heartache.