Path to the Dream Life

How it all Began   ––––––––   * * * * The day began like any other for Imma Chibundu Vine. Three months already since the impossible had happened. Today he was eager to connect with a bright, rich acquaintance. Imma had learned to respect the advantages of being close to the strong and wealthy. Twice already, he had been rescued by his connections to such people after having his ambition blow up in his face. Dressed in his unmistakable expensive black shoes, black trouser and blue shirt, IkeChi Ndu was already seated in the Nnamdi Azikiwe hostel buttery when Imma arrived.  Settling down to their order of fried fish, plantain chips and soft drinks, IkeChi leaned forward and pointed to Imma’s head. “Are those white hair I see?” “May be,” Imma said, laughing. “You’re not old. Too much studying?” Imma stroked his hair. “I wish. But I’ve had these wisdom hair forever – birth mark.” Imma, seventeen years old, five feet eight, light-skinned and on the thin side, had full black hair except for that patch on the left side. IkeChi took a gulp of his Just Juice. “Tell me about your family.” That’s blunt, Imma thought. From the few times they had met, he should have seen it coming. Hesitating, Imma said, “No, you go first.” “I’m from Ogbunike, near Ogidi, Anambra State. Family of three and my parents graduated from this university...” “Is that why you chose here?” “You could say so. I can see my two siblings coming here as well.” “First time away from home?” “Yes. My parents are nervous. They’ve visited every other weekend, and I’m beginning to feel embarrassed.” “Why? I dream of getting my family to visit me here.” “Everybody has started calling me Daddy’s and Mommy’s boy. It isn’t funny! Can’t wait till I get the car they promised so I can zoom home to see them instead.” Imma’s ears perked and he peered into IkeChi. “A car? Your family must dote on you! Mine loves me too but they won’t be buying me a car – ever.” IkeChi laughed. “Too many people and too little money? How many?” Imma chuckled. “Where I come from, the correct answer is, ‘we don’t count children’.” “Clever! Come on, tell me.” “Bad things can happen if I break my people’s rule.” “You don’t look the superstitious type.” “Okay. Nine.” IkeChi’s mouth snapped open and his eyes widened. “Those must be nine deprived children!” Imma hushed. At first they laughed about it, but as they rode home on IkeChi’s motorcycle Imma defended his parents and the dignity of his family. Stopping at IkeChi’s room, they watched television and played pop songs from an out-of-this-world – well, out-of-Imma’s-world – music system. Helping themselves from IkeChi’s lavishly stocked refrigerator, envy and inspiration surged through Imma. He took it all in – the album filled with colourful photos of family vacations overseas. Beautiful wallpaper. Richly stocked wardrobe. The reading table containing all the recommended books for his courses, and more. On the way to his hostel, Imma couldn’t shake the word deprived echoing in his head. His bare-bones room and reading table contained the one solitary textbook he had been able to buy so far. He fell onto the bed and buried his face in the pillow, allowing sleep to wash over him. Waking up early the next day, tears swept away his desire to be connected to IkeChi. In solemn defiance, Imma penned an entry in his red diary: December 5, 1979. University of Nigeria, Nsukka. No one will ever again describe me or my family as deprived. Never again. Going to the lecture hall, Iwunze, Imma’s project team member on a GS 101 - General Studies English Language course – confronted him. “You didn’t show up for our assignment last night.” “Forgive me, I forgot. Met a friend in the evening, then went straight to bed.” Iwunze drew close and whispered. “She wore you out?” Imma pushed him away. “Worse. He wounded my soul.” “He? Who? How?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “That’s your business. My concern is that we’re behind on this project because you didn’t show up. Be ready to take the blame if we fail to get an A in this course.” “I apologize – we won’t! I will make it up to the group. Can’t miss this opportunity for an A.” In the nineteen-year history of the university’s Department of Economics, no one had achieved a first-class degree. Every new class dreamed of breaking the jinx. Imma and his team had made it their goal: at their graduation ceremony in four years, at least one of them would be awarded a first-class degree. More than ever, Imma wanted that person to be him. IkeChi had something to do with that. From that December 5 to the end of his three-month first term on December 21, Imma grinded away and hustled. When he learnt of another student, Frank, who created a side business bringing in shoes and clothing to sell on campus, Imma was inspired. Light bulb. Unable to buy his own merchandise as a re-seller, he joined the bustle as a sales generator, earning minimum commission on his contacts’ purchases from Frank. Other than that and one campus Christmas party, Imma just attended lectures, studied and slept some - a cycle that would mark the rest of his undergraduate life. Before the end of that first term as well, someone from Imma’s family visited him! His roommate had responded to a gentle knock on the door. “Sister!” Imma shouted, almost knocking her down with a big hug. Chidubem was Imma’s second sister. “Imma, good to see you. How have you been?” “Great, but have been missing home. So glad you came. I wondered if anyone would visit...” “I’ve been planning this visit for a while. Mama and Papa wanted me to come, but it had to wait. Arrears of teachers’ salaries were paid just this week.” “Thank you so much. I see that your bag is fat. Lots of things for me?” “Open it. I’m sure you’ll share with your roommates and friends.” In Chidubem’s bag was an array of home-made food, fresh fruits, and snacks. “Wow, this is my best day in university yet!” “The fresh food and fruits are from our farm.” Imma grimaced. “Many thanks, Sister, but let’s not talk about farming.” One person and just once, but a family visit nonetheless. And timing was great, as Imma had wondered if he would have enough money to transport himself home for Christmas. Chidubem made sure of that. Even better, Christmas could not have come earlier for him: he has now crossed off family visit on the mental list of advantages IkeChi held over him. –––––––– * * * * Over the following terms, Imma received more visitors – among them his childhood friends Umunna, Chukwuemeka, LuChi and Nath. It meant a lot to Imma that his friends would make the effort to come see him, some travelling many hours at great expense. And, there was that other visitor in the last term of his program. Propitious. Godson Nwaka was a Professor of Mathematics and Dean of Graduate Studies at the University of Jos, six hours away from the University of Nigeria’s Nsukka campus. Among Imma’s few privileges in life was that the only professor then in his village was also his godfather. Prof took his mentoring duties seriously, doting on Imma and even visiting him in secondary school. Still, when his roommate shook him awake, Imma almost jumped out of his skin. “Prof!” “Young man, it’s just 9:30 pm.” “I do most of my studying in the day and early mornings. My alarm is set for 4 am.” Imma rubbed his eyes as he pulled up a chair for Prof. “I believe you. You know what it took for you to be here.” Imma eased himself to the edge of his bed and dropped his head. “Yes, Prof. Don’t make me relive that...” “I won’t. Just don’t let us – or yourself - down.” Prof had come for a conference, but he had managed to stop by to bestow another privilege on his protégé. Imma was certain IkeChi hadn’t received a visitor of that calibre. One more up on IkeChi. ###