“So, when you grow up, what
would you like to be?” Nneka
asked her pupils. Her face was
beaming with a resplendent
smile. Her passion for life, her
love for teaching and care for her
students were infectious. Each
time she smiled, her pupils
smiled in response, almost in
sync; as though they were under
the spell of her adorable smile.
From one end of the classroom
to another, smiles were beaming
all over with pure juvenile
innocence and a zest for life.
Hands sprouted in the air like
seeds germinating simultaneously.
“Aunty I…Aunty I…Aunty I,” they
bellowed in an attempt to beat
one another to Nneka’s question.
one another to Nneka’s question.
“Okay, you first Patience ,” Nneka
finally said pointing at one of her
star students. Patience was
slightly taller than her peers. She
was well liked in class, and very
intelligent. “When I grow up, I
want to be a doctor,” she
answered with a ravishing smile.
Her entire thirty two teeth
flashed brilliantly as she stood at
her desk. Her well patterned
braid glistened along with her
smile. “So, why do you want to
be a doctor?” Nneka asked her.
“Because I want to wear long
white robes and study about
diseases. I want to cure people.”
“That is beautiful Patience. It is
wonderful that you want to cure
the sick. What about you Chima ?”
Chima was a shy boy, albeit very
intelligent. He said very little in
class, but on the playground, he
was a bulldozer. His mother was
a teacher, so he seemed to study
more than his peers at home,
and as a result, he was among
the top three students in his
class. He wore spectacles due to
an eye ailment he was born with.
“I want to be a Chemical
Engineer,” Chima said with a
subdued smile. “Do you mind
telling us why, Chima?” “Yes
aunty. I want to be a Chemical
Engineer because I want to work
for the biggest oil company in the
country. Besides, my father is a
Chemical Engineer, so I want to
be like him when I grow up.”
“Wonderful!” Nneka exclaimed in
her characteristic ebullient
manner. “What of you
Ikemefuna ?” “I want to be a
lawyer,” he answered without
hesitation. Ikemefuna was
cantankerous, always picking a
fight with a classmate. One
evening, a neighbor had told him
that he behaved like a lawyer, so
he bought into the idea hook,
line and sinker. From that day
on, he told everyone who cared
to listen that he was going to be
a lawyer. “Why?” “I want to be a
lawyer because lawyers are
respected. I want to throw all the
bad people in prison and fight for
innocent people,” he answered
with unrestrained energy. “That is
wonderful. Society needs more of
your kind, Ikem. What about you
Onyenachi ?” Onyenachi said she
would like to be a nurse so she
could care for sick people.
Lotanna , wanted to be a pilot, so
he could fly all over the world.
Ijeoma said she would like to be
a nurse too. Sandra said her
dream was to become a medical
doctor, so she could find the cure
for malaria. John wanted to be a
Civil Engineer, so he could build
mansions. The list continued.
Nneka made sure she had
something pleasant to say about
each of her pupils’ aspirations.
Her smile appeared to grow
stronger and bolder with each
passing minute.
As Nneka went from the front of
the class to the back, Ikechukwu
sat quietly at the back. He was his
usual quiet self. He said very
little in class, and always seemed
to be in a deep thought. He was
not among the very top students
in his class, but he was not far
from that top list though. He was
resolute, very sure of himself and
calm. He was no afraid to say his
mind even when the entire class
was up against him. It seemed
like he always had a divergent
opinion from the rest of the
world and today was not any
different. His classmates were
eager to find out what his
aspirations were. “What of you?
What do you want to be when
you grow up?” Chinwe asked
Ikechukwu before Nneka reached
their desk. Her voice was a quite
whisper, which only Ikechukwu
heard. Chinwe was Ikechukwu’s
neighbor in class. They had been
sitting together from the
beginning of the academic year.
Nneka moved her pupils around
every now and again to get them
to know one another better. For
some reason, she had yet to
separate Chinwe and Ikechukwu.
“I don’t know yet,” Ikechukwu
replied. “What of you?” He
whispered additionally. Chinwe
looked at him as though he
(Ikechukwu) had fallen out of the
moon. “What do you mean you
don’t know?” She whispered with
a bemused look on her face. “I
don’t know,” Ikechukwu insisted.
“You are always different right?
Everyone knows what they want
to be except you. You just like to
be different. Well, I want to be a
doctor,” Chinwe shot back at him
managing to keep her voice to a
whisper.
When it was Chinwe’s turn, she
reeled out her answer with
boisterous zeal. “I want to be a
doctor because I want to cure
people with malaria, typhoid
fever and all kinds of diseases,”
she said as her loud voice echoed
through the classroom. “That is
very wonderful Chinwe. You keep
working hard and you will get
there.” “Thanks!” She replied with
a wide smile that left her eyes
sunken in the happy contours that
arrived on her face along with
that big smile. “Ikechukwu what
would you like to be when you
grow up?” Nneka asked. Everyone
looked back, eager to find out
what Ikechuwku’s aspirations
were. He said nothing for a
moment, as though he was
mulling over the question. “Do
you want to share with us
Ikechukwu?” Nneka pressed him
gently, still maintaining a smile
on her face. Then, Ikechukwu
responded. “I don’t know what I
want to be when I grow up aunty.
You see, there are other things
that confuse me…things that
worry me and I have yet to find
an answer to them. Maybe when
I do, then I can think of what I
want to be when I am an adult.”
Everyone in class looked
perplexed, including Nneka. She
managed to hide hers though,
letting a smile embellish her face.
“Would you like to share those
things with us Ikechukwu,” she
persuaded him as gently as she
could.
“Aunty,” he said after another
wait. “Yes, go ahead.” “This
morning, I am sure most of my
classmates had breakfast before
coming to school. Some of them
even had their parents drop them
off in their cars. Some have lunch
boxes packed for the afternoon.
Clearly, they are wearing a
different set of uniforms today
than they did yesterday. I did not
have breakfast this morning. I am
not sure of lunch either. I am
hoping there will be dinner – you
see, dinner is almost certain in
my family, but breakfast and
lunch are hard to come by. My
parents save the little we have
for just supper. At least we have
something in our stomach before
we go to bed. I have been
wearing the same set of uniforms
from last year. I have almost
grown out of them, but since my
parents cannot afford another
one, I have to keep wearing the
same set. My mother has patched
them up the best she could. I
have never had scandals, so I
walk to school on bare feet. My
parents work so hard, yet we are
so poor…And I love them so
much. I always tell my father that
when I grow up, I want to help
him. I don’t know how, but I just
want to help my father and
mother; to help my brothers and
sisters. When my little sister cries
for lack of food at home, it
leaves me in tears. I carry her in
my arms and I tell her that
someday, I want to look after
her. I want to wipe her tears
away. I want to buy Christmas
clothes for my siblings and
parents. In the past four years,
no one has gotten Christmas
clothes in my house. On
Christmas day when our neighbors
file out in bright new clothes, we
hang our heads in shame as we
shuffle to church in the same old,
ragged clothes.”
He paused for a moment as if he
wanted to make certain that he
was driving home his point.
“Aunty, it is hard to think about
anything else than ending the
pains that torture your family
when you find yourself in my
shoes. I just want to help my
parents, brothers and sisters –
that is my dream for now. I go to
bed every night thinking of that. I
wake up praying to grow up and
help. That is all I want to do now.
I don’t know how I am going to
do it, or what I am going to
become, but whatever that comes
to be, I sure hope it allows me to
wipe the tears I know run down
the cheeks of my parents when
they lay down at night thinking of
what their children will eat
tomorrow!” Nneka did not know
whether to let the tears flow or
whether to hide them. Torn, she
walked closer to Ikechukwu and
took him in her arms. “I am so
sorry to hear what your family
has been going through
Ikechukwu!” She said emotionally.
“Take my lunch!” Chinwe offered,
holding her bread and egg out to
Ikechukwu. “You can have it all, I
don’t care. I will bring you some
more tomorrow,” she said
emphatically. Tears rolled down
her face, as with her classmates.
Even those who did not like
Ikechukwu before now felt a deep
pang of pity for him. “You can
have mine too,” Patience offered.
She held out her lunch box with
one hand while she wiped tears
off her face with the other.
Sandra was sobbing violently. She
was one of the smallest pupils in
Nneka’s class. She hopped off her
seat and walked over to
Ikechukwu who was still wrapped
up in Nneka’s arms. “Please can I
hug you too Ikechukwu?” She
asked. “I don’t want to be a
doctor anymore. When I grow up,
I want to be just like you
Ikechukwu. I just want to help
people starting with my family.”
She placed one of her short,
slender arms on Ikechukwu’s back
and the other Nneka’s legs. She
tried so hard to get a better hold
of Ikechukwu who was crying too.
“I just want to be like you!”
Sandra said more emphatically.
After a prolonged hug, Nneka
hesitantly let go of Ikechukwu,
but Sandra would not let go. She
put both arms around him as if
her hands could wipe his searing
pains away. Nneka wiped her
face, sniffed for a moment and
looked around the class, almost
dazed. “Thanks for sharing your
situation with us Ikechukwu. I will
bring you lunch every day and
something you can take home for
dinner, okay?” She said, still
somewhat Perplexed. She wanted
to wipe all his tears away, but she
didn’t quite know how, or if she
could solve all of his family’s
problems. “We’ll bring something
for Ikechukwu everyday too!”
Patience suggested. “Yes!” The
rest of the class offered. “I hope
that will help, Ikechukwu?” Nneka
asked hoping that somehow, she
and her pupils were being of
help. “Stop crying my boy,” she
encouraged him trying to gain
hold of him again, but little,
feisty Sandra wouldn’t let go. She
held tightly onto Ikechukwu. “It is
okay Sandra,” Nneka coaxed her.
Half-heartedly, Sandra loosened
the grip on her left arm, but not
her right arm. She wanted to
maintain some hold on
Ikechukwu. Now that he had
some room to breathe, Ikechukwu
managed to wipe his tears, take a
deep breath and say, “Chinwe can
I have the lunch? I am really
hungry.” “Yes, have it all,” Chinwe
offered generously. “Go ahead
and eat Ikechukwu,” Nneka
encouraged her. “Can I have yours
too Patience, so I can run over to
the next building and offer it to
my younger brother who is in
elementary four. He could use
some food too.”
“Yes!” Patience said exuberantly
delighted to be of some help.
“Eat first Ikechukwu. When you
finish, then I can go to the other
building with you to offer the
other box to your brother,” Nneka
suggested. “Please aunty; can I go
offer that to my brother first? He
is younger. I think he needs it
more than I do,” Ikechukwu
pleaded. Another streak of tears
spontaneously dropped from
Nneka’s eyes. She tried to wipe
them, but more tears surged to
the fore with relentless force.
She walked over to her purse,
took a handkerchief and wiped
her face. “It is okay, sit down and
eat Ikechukwu. Patience please
hand me that box. I will go over
to elementary four and offer this
to your brother,” Nneka offered.
“Thanks aunty. His name is
Kenechukwu. He is in elementary
four B,” Ikechukwu said. “Okay, I
will make sure he gets it.” Only
then did Ikechukwu sit down to
eat the bread and fried egg that
Chinwe had offered him. Sandra
ran over to her school bag and
dug out a box of Caprisun, which
she offered to Ikechukwu. “Aunty
please can you give this to my
brother too?” Ikechukwu
requested instead, as Nneka was
leaving. She turned back, took
the juice from him and headed
out. I pray I can be just like him,
she thought to herself as she left
the class still fighting back tears.
After handing the windfall to
Ikechukwu’s brother, she went to
the bathroom, lotcked herself in
and cried emotionally. Lord,
please make me like that little
boy. He has thought me the best
lesson of my life, she thought to
herself.
THE END!

I am the original writer of the story above (A Selfless Aspiration), which was published on the website lagosconvo.com on Sept 28 2015 with my permission (here is the link to the same story on the website where it was legally published with permission - http://lagosconvo.com/story-series/a-selfless-aspiration/?fb_comment_id=766046153504453_766053586837043#!). On the same day, Nairaland stole (copied) this story from lagosconvo.com and published it on their website without permission. To make matters worse, they fail to give credit to the writer. In the world of creative arts/writing, this is reprehensible beyond measure. I will be instituting legal action against Nairaland, but I needed to let their followers and readers know that those who own and run this website are a bunch of non-entities, thieves and charlatans. This is part of the reason Nigeria has failed to reach its potential; people are devoid of creativity, they go about copying other people's work. Nairaland forgets that the internet is a small village where almost anything is a google search away. They should be ashamed of themselves.