CARELESS MOTHER

CHAPTER 8

careless mother

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Secondary School Bully*

I entered JSS1 when I was 12 years old.

I was the smallest in my class, but my uniform — though old — was always washed clean and ironed. Mama Big ironed it every Sunday night with her one good hand, limping around the charcoal iron.

She told me, "Efe, no let anybody make you feel small for that school o. You sabi book pass them."

But secondary school was not my village primary.

On my first day in Community Secondary School, Agbor, a senior girl looked at my rubber slippers and laughed.

"Village girl, na this slippers you wear come secondary school?"

I kept quiet.

That senior girl was Blessing — the same Blessing from my primary school. She had grown bigger and more wicked.

Her group started calling me "Mama Akara."

"Hey, akara seller! You smell like oil! Go back to your grandma kitchen!"

During break, they pushed my food flask and laughed when my garri spilled on my uniform.

I cried inside the toilet that day. I wanted to fight, but I remembered Mama Big's stick, her plastered leg, her one gold earring.

I did not fight with my hand. I fought with my brain.

End of term exams came. I studied under kerosene lamp till 1am every day. While Blessing was following boys behind the school block, I was solving Maths.

On result day, the principal called names.

"JSS1 overall best student... Efe Helen... with average 89%!"

The whole hall clapped. I saw Blessing's face turn red.

The principal gave me a new school bag and new sandals as prize.

That afternoon, Blessing met me near the borehole.

"So you think you sabi book? You go still fry akara for life. Your mama na ashawo for Asaba, everybody know am."

I looked at her. For the first time, I did not run. I stood.

"Yes, my mama na careless mother. And yes, I dey fry akara. But akara pay my school fees. Wetin your own mama dey do wey make you proud? At least my grandma get handwork."

Blessing was shocked. I walked away, my new sandals making proud sound on the sand.

That night I told Mama Big, "Mama Big, I no fight, but I talk."

She hugged me. "Na so. Word pass slap sometimes."

But I did not know that far away in Asaba, my mother was about to call again — and that call would spoil my small peace.