Chapter 12: The 275 Decision
1037 Words
Monday came like a judgment day.
6:00am. Mama was already at the stall under the mango tree. Her knees were swollen to the size of oranges, but she wrapped them tight with old cloth and stood. Tomatoes had to sell. Onions had to sell. Because Chima had to stay in school.
Ada hadn’t slept.
Her ABSU ID sat on the cement floor next to her. Obinna, Ada Fidelis. Dept of Medicine and Surgery. 100 Level.
275.
The number that got her here. The number Mama just bet their hunger on.
Chima sat outside the one room, in his washed uniform. No shirt. Just a singlet and the purple-yellow eye. His expulsion letter was in the principal’s office at Government Secondary School, Ngwa. All Mama needed was ₦15,000 before 12pm.
They had ₦5,200.
Mama had borrowed ₦3,000 from Madam Nkechi who sells stockfish. At 20% interest. “Pay me back in two market days,” Madam Nkechi said. “Or I take your stall.”
Ada’s Access account: ₦2,200.
₦9,800 short.
Chidi was quiet. Too quiet. He’d stopped washing his socks. Now he was sharpening Mama’s kitchen knife on a stone. Not saying why.
At 7:30am, Ada’s phone buzzed.
Desmond: Heard about your brother. My offer still stands. 150k. No questions. Just dinner. Tonight.
She stared at it. 150k solves everything. Chima’s fees. Chidi’s books. Mama’s drugs. Gray’s Anatomy. Three months of food.
It also makes her Desmond’s.
Her phone buzzed again.
Unknown: This is Tony. Lisa gave me your number. I heard. I can send 10k. No strings. You don’t have to pay back. Just… let me know you’re okay._
Ada closed her eyes. _Tony_. Ifeanyi’s best friend. Ifeanyi’s name was ash in her mouth now.
Then:
Ifeanyi: I’m at the court in Umuahia.
Her eyes snapped open.
Ifeanyi: Filing a private suit against Okoro Group. Negligence. Manslaughter. I listed your father as Exhibit A. My father will know by noon.
Ada’s hands shook.
Ifeanyi: I don’t have the 15k. He froze my accounts this morning. But if we win… Chima goes to school free. For life. Tell Mama I’m slaughtering the cow.
9:00am — Government Secondary School, Ngwa
Mama limped into the principal’s office. Ada and Chima behind her. Chidi waited outside with the knife hidden in his school bag.
Principal Okonkwo was a small man with a big stomach. He didn’t stand for Mama. Celina, you know the rules. Damages must be paid.”
Mama dropped the ₦5,200 on his table. Coins and all. “That’s all I have.”
“It’s ₦15,000.” He pushed the expulsion letter forward. _Chima Fidelis. Expelled for violent conduct and property damage.
Chima’s fists clenched. His swollen eye twitched.
Ada stepped forward. “Sir, please. He was defending our father’s name. The boy insulted a dead man”
“A dead man doesn’t pay school fees,” Okonkwo snapped. “₦15,000 or he’s out.”
That’s when Chidi walked in.
12 years old. School bag on his back. Kitchen knife in his hand.
He walked straight to Okonkwo’s table. Placed the knife down. Next to the ₦5,200.
“If you expel my brother,” Chidi said, voice shaking but loud, “I will come back here every day. I will not let any student learn peace. Because my Papa died teaching children like me.”
The room froze.
Okonkwo stared at the knife. At Chidi. At Mama’s swollen knees. At Ada’s ABSU ID hanging from her neck.
At Chima’s black eye.
Mama didn’t stop Chidi. She just said: “Obinna Fidelis taught for 35 years. He never held a knife. His sons should not have to.”
Silence.
Then Okonkwo sighed. Pushed the expulsion letter back into his drawer. “You have till Friday. ₦15,000. Or I call the police about this knife.”
He kept the ₦5,200.
11:45am — Back at the stall
Mama said nothing about Chidi and the knife. She just tied her wrapper higher and started shouting: “Buy my tomatoes o! Fresh from Jos!”
Ada’s phone buzzed. News alert.
BREAKING: Ifeanyi Okoro, son of CEO Okoro Group, files wrongful death suit against father’s company over 2017 mall collapse. Cites 12 victims, including late teacher Obinna Fidelis.
The market went quiet. One by one, people looked up from their stalls. At Mama. At Ada.
Madam Nkechi walked over. Dropped ₦1,000 on Mama’s table. “For Chima. No interest.”
Then the yam seller. ₦500.
The okada man. ₦200.
Even the preacher with the megaphone. ₦1,000.
By 1pm, Mama had ₦14,800.
₦200 short.
Ada looked at her phone. Three options:
1. *Desmond*: 150k for dinner.
2. *Tony*: 10k, no strings.
3. *275*: Her brain. Her hustle. No man.
She opened w******p. Ignored Desmond. Ignored Samuel.
She texted her course rep: _Anybody need BIO 111 past questions solved? ₦500 per topic. I’m doing 12 topics today.
By 4pm, she had ₦6,000 in her account.
She walked to Government Secondary School, Ngwa. Paid ₦15,000 cash. Collected Chima’s re-admission letter.
She didn’t tell Mama where the extra ₦200 came from.
6:00pm — The one room in Ngwa
Chima was back in uniform. Complete. Eye still swollen, but he was smiling. Chidi had hidden the knife under the mattress.
Mama was counting the day’s sales. ₦3,400. Enough for rice. Enough for her drugs.
Ada’s phone buzzed.
Ifeanyi: My father called. He’s disowning me. Accounts still frozen. But the case is filed. It’s public now. The sacred cow is bleeding.
Ifeanyi: Are you okay?
Ada looked at Mama. At Chima doing homework on the floor. At Chidi eating garri without sugar and laughing anyway.
She typed:
Ada: We paid the 15k. Chima is back in school. We didn’t use your money. We didn’t use Desmond’s. We used 275.
Ada: The cow is bleeding. But we’re still standing.
She deleted _Are you okay? and sent it.
Mama looked up. “Who are you texting?”
Ada put the phone face down. “The future, Mama. I’m texting the future.”
Outside, the Ngwa sun was setting. Red. Like blood. Like the end of something.
Or the beginning.
- Writer
