DESPERAME

RECIPE FOR CHAOS

Cool wind howled as the smell of bean cakes wafted through the air, enticing the crowds. My mother’s business was booming, and I was struggling to keep up.

“Calim don’t be sluggish ehn..bring more akara” my mother shouted above the din. I nodded, grabbing a tray of freshly fried bean cake from the counter. “Yes mama!” I responded.

One of the customers, a burly tout, a man with a thick beard, catcalled in as I passed by.

“Calim Calim! See as you dey fresh, but your akara no fresh reach your mama own”

The crowd erupted into laughter, and I felt my face heat up.

Yeah, things have changed alot since our father’s disappearance eleven years ago. I’m now twenty one, grown, have I? Tall and slim, with a dark almost chocolate complexion-people would often say I took after my father’s color. Academically, I’m average, not exactly a star student, or as bright as Mady. I managed to scrape through and graduated with my SSCE just a year ago.

The years that followed our father’s disappearance were hectically rough. Financial struggles forced us to skip school due to unpaid fees, as our mother engages in menial jobs, usually after her beancake business. Our shanty house was brought to rubble by a torrential rain, leaving us no choice but to rent a self-contained apartment not far from our previous home. Our mother had a lot of troubles struggling for our survival as a single parent. Forced to adapt, she transformed her business strategy after our house was destroyed by nature. She converted the half-vacant land into a makeshift shop, for her bean cake business.The shop was simple, with a simple zinc roof and open sides, but it became a lifeline for our family.

From a menial business, it became one of the most successful bean cake centre in Aska. Our mother became a fulltime beancake trader, catering for our school needs with the little she would save.

An impulsive sense of responsibility lurks in my feeble mind, but my helpless state wouldn’t let me assume my responsibilities. I’ve always wanted to assist my family, it’s not just about being the first child or the only born son, but because I genuinely yearn to ease our struggle and bring a sense of security and peace. Aside from assisting our mother in her shop, I took on petty jobs to contribute to the family income, even while in secondary school. I would run errands for our neighbours, help with farming tasks. These odd jobs not only earned me some extra pocket money, but it also taught me valuable skills and a strong work experience.

Days without these petty jobs, I’d be in my mother’s shop; bringing us to today.

Today was one of those days; it’s 12pm, a sunny April Wednesday, our makeshift shop in Aska bustling streets was a madhouse.People of different calibers lined up for turns buying fried yam and beancake. Ajasco, the burly tout, was one of them.

“Ah oga Ajasco, na small small, I never still sabi my mama style ” I replied, kind of embarrassed. Ajasco’s deep laughter echoed through the crowded street, drawing attention from passersby

“Haha, your mama style na obonge abi?” He asked rather rhetorically. Just as we were caught up in the frenzy of serving customers, mama Ramoke, a retail rice seller opposite our shop, a woman in her late 30s, with a distinctive Yoruba facial tribal marks, with a look of urgency, she pushed her way through the crowd.

“Mama Calim, mama Calim!” she exclaimed out of breath. I just came from the town hall meeting. The local government has announced plans to demolish all the makeshift shops along this street this weekend, to build modern business plazas!”

My mother’s eyes widened in alarm as she wiped her oily hands on her apron.

“Eh, what are you saying, mama Ramoke? Demolish our shops? Where will we go?”

The atmosphere around us suddenly shifted from lively chatter to worried murmurs.

Mama Ramoke’s face etched with worry,“I know,I know, it’s a disaster. We just have to find other alternatives. The Government says they’ll compensate shop owners, but we all know how that will go,this is Aska, not Dembeli, our livelihoods are at stake Mama Cal”

“Na wa oh!” Ajasco exclaimed. “How they go demolish where people take dey chop, government sef get wahala, Mama Calim abeg give me #150 akara make I dey go, na my turn” He implied.

The thought of losing our only source of livelihood made me feel desolate. How’d we cope with Mady’s school fees, and settle our almost-due house rent? My petty contracts would be of little or no help, considering we’ve long past farm season. Most of Akugu parts are unurbane in nature, stiffing employment opportunities and work availability, harboring touts-popularly known in Yoruba as ‘Agberos’.

Desperame streets sets an urbanely tone in Akugu town, its magnificent structure beckoning a proud, gaze-me invitation. I’ve always been in awe of its behemoth interior architecture anytime I’m sent to Akugu market.

We had a dismal business day, with an unsettling silence that hung in the air. My mother’s face was etched with worry, her expression speaking volumes despite her silence. I yearned to share the news of Ali’s proposal- urging me to apply for a security guard position in Desperame, butI hesitated, not only because of the distress etched in her face, but for old wound purpose, and her distrust for Ali.

Old wounds, long buried, still lingered. Our father’s disappearance, which had left our family shattered, was still a painful memory. She would say“He used a faked job opportunity at Desperame as a means to abandon us”. Our mother never forgave the company for its role in his departure.

Ali is an intimate friend of mine, stood out with his rugged appearance- dark skinned, broad, and muscular, with a witty demeanor to match. After completing secondary school, Ali landed a job in Desperame industries, where he had been working as a security guard for a year now. Our mother had always seen Ali as a bit too rough around the edges, and his blunt, witty demeanor confirmed her suspicions. Now, with a Job offer in Desperame, proposed by Ali, I’m in for a debate.

We got home late evening, trudged through the front door, the weight of the day’s events settling upon us. My mother’s eyes, red-rimmed from tears, scanned the living room as if searching for an escape from the reality that had been thrust upon us. The air was heavy with the scent of dinner, made by Mady. My sister, Mady looked up from her book, her bright eyes clouding with concern as she took in our somber faces.

“What’swrong?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. Our mother’s gaze faltered, and she sank into the old worn couch, her body language screaming defeat. I hesitated, unsure how to break the news to Mady. The air was thick with tension, and I could feel the weight of our uncertain future bearing down upon us. Suddenly, Mady’s eyes locked onto mine, and I knew I had to tell her. But before I could speak, my mother’s voice, barely above a whisper, cuts through the silence.

“They’re demolishing our shop, Mady”.The words hung in the air like a challenge, and I could feel the room spinning into chaos.

Mady’s eyes widened in shock as she processed the news. “What? Why?” She asked, her voice shaking with emotion.

My mother sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “It’s just the way it is sweetie. The government wants to build a new development, and our shop is in the way.”

I could feel the frustration and anger boiling up inside me. I wanted to do something to help, but I didn’t know when to start.

“Mama I have something to tell you”, I said, hesitating.

She looked up at me, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. “What is it?”

I took a deep breath before speaking. “Ali proposed I apply for the post of security guard job at Desperame. I was thinking about it.”

My mother’s expression changed in an instant. Her eyes narrowed, and her face twisted in disgust.

“Desperame? You want to work for Desperame?” Her voice was laced with disgust“ That place is a curse, Calim. Its existence gave your father the chance to abandon us, and Ali, that boy is a bad influence. He’s always trouble around you, and you’re taking his proposal seriously? I’d rather we struggle than have you work in Desperame”

I sighed trying to reason with my mother. “Mama, I know you have bad memories of Desperame, but I’m not dad, and Ali is just trying to help. It’s either now or never”.

Mady who had been quietly observing the conversation, spoke up.

“Mama, I think Calim is right. They’re demolishing our only source of income, and my WAEC registration fee haven’t been provided. If we don’t have the money for the registration before July ending, I won’t be able to take the exams”

My mother’s expression softened as she looked at Mady. “My dear, I haven’t forgotten. I’d rather till the soil or sell every bit of my petty property to make ends meet, than have your brother work for Desperame. We’ll find other ways, we always do”

I looked at my mother feeling a mixed of disappointment and understanding. I know Desperame’s existence is a memory of uncertain fate. Our father has always been a lover of luxury.Desperame was always his case studyany time he told anticipated tales of his ambition. Using his own dream to abandon us gave my mother reason to hate Desperame, and dishonoring her choice would mean betraying the sacrifices she’s made for us, and reopening the wounds of the past.

As I stood there, the weight of our mother’s laden gaze bore down on me.I knew that I was at a cross road, torn between loyalty to my family’s unfortunate past and the promise of a better future, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized my decision to work at Desperame isn’t just about me. I took a deep breath and steeled myself, determined to do what is deemed necessary-even if it’ll be against my mother’s will, with the shop demolitions looming,I have no other option.

That night, the tension between us was palpable. We didn’t dine as family, our silence in comparison, was a stark contrast to the heated words we had exchanged earlier.I retreated to our long couch-where I sleep, considering the mini size of our rented one bedroom apartment. As I lay on the couch, I could hear the groans of the old house, the familiar sounds of reminder of the life I’d known for so long. But my heart was already elsewhere, fixed on the uncertain future that awaited me. I drifted off to sleep, my resolve hardened: I would work for Desperame no matter the cost.

It dawned faster than I've slept, even though I overslept by time, exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the previous day. By the time I woke up, my mother had already left for her beancake business. Mady had also departed for school. Yawning and stretching, I noticed a note on the table beside the couch I slept on.

The note was brief, scribbled in haste: “Wakie wakie!! Mama said you should meet her at the shop…Your akamu(pap) is in the silver-colour flask; don’t forget to brush before eating”

“That brat!” I exclaimed.

I crumpled the note in my hand, feeling a pang of guilt for not getting up earlier. But before I could dwell on it, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door bursting open. It was Mady, on her school uniform, her face contorted in distress, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Calim, it’s Mama!” She exclaimed, her voice trembling. “She collapsed on her way to the shop! She was rushed to the general hospital!”