(Continued from the previous part)



Kim was introduced to Mr. Smith's family.



Mr. Smith.

May 1992.

Mr. Smith was once again at the wooden structure that served as a school for more than a hundred and twenty students. There was nowhere to sit in the cubicle that served as the Headmaster’s office, so he remained standing while he listen to Kim’s class teacher narrating the unfortunate incidence that happened to Kim’s mother.

“That was how she lost her mother” the teacher said and dabbed at tears quickly “After the incidence, efforts were made to reach her only surviving relative- her aunt but the aunt has not been seen for weeks even before the accident happened. The hospital where her mother’s body was taken was shouting that the body should be recovered as soon as possible otherwise it would incur more charges. So when all hope is lost and there’s no one to call again for help, I decided to call you because I remember the last time you came here and dropped your number with the instruction that should she need anything, I should let you know” the kind teacher said.



Mr. Smith was lost in thought over this unfortunate development. A part of him regretted getting too involved in the first place and he chided himself silently for leaving his number. But another part of him was telling him that he had done the right thing. At last, he said. “How can I help this situation now?”

“Let’s start with the burial of her mother then we will sort out other things. The headmaster suggested.

“Okay, what are the steps we need to take?”

“First, we have to clear the bills at the hospital and get permission from the local government to bury her at the public cemetery”



Mr. Smith and the headmaster went to the hospital and paid the bills then he drove her to the local government where they waited for hours before they were attended to. The secretary who attended to them was a plump woman who talked a lot. While attending to them, she was busy discussing with another woman in the office. This frustrated Mr. Smith a lot and he was tempted several times to call her to order and her see how bad her action was but he decided to let it go.



They were given several forms to fill and on each form, the word “FREE” was written in block letters but after filling the forms, the woman said their bill was fifteen thousand naira.

“But it was clearly written on the form that it is free!” Mr. Smith said heatedly, angry beyond description.



“Yes, it was free when this form was printed but it is no longer free, sir” the woman said icily, looking at the faces of her colleagues in the office for support. All of them nodded in agreement to support her claim.

“Then I won’t pay if I don’t see a legal documentation to back up your claim that the forms aren’t free anymore” Mr. Smith said obstinately.

Other people in the room stopped what they were doing and their attention was riveted towards the table where Mr. Smith, the HM and the woman were sitting.

“Sir, I thought you really wanted these forms when you requested for them but now it is obvious that you are nothing but someone wants to waste my time…” the woman said and she began to gather the forms.

“If you don’t return those forms now, I’ll call the police” Mr. Smith said his voice firm and authoritative.

“On what ground will you call the police?” the woman challenged.

“In fact, I don’t even need these forms again and I’ll have you arrested by the police now for misconduct” he fished out his phone and began to dial a number. Other staff in the office quickly ran to him. The men among them prostrated and the women knelt down; all of them began to beg him. “Don’t you dare touch me, birds of the same feather! Were you all not here now when she said it is fifteen thousand naira? Didn’t you all confirm that it is true?!” he stood up angrily and walked out of the office. All the people ran after him except the woman that was attending to him, she sat shaking on her chair.



After several minutes of begging and pleading, Mr. Smith calmed down and the form were brought to him by another person. After much pleas and promises not to ‘do that’ again by the woman and her colleagues, he and the HM left the local government to start the preparations for the burial.



After three days of running from pole to pole, getting all the necessary permissions, her mother was buried at a public cemetery. The only people at the burial ground were Mr. Smith, Kim, the headmistress of her school, a pastor that was paid to conduct the final rites and pall bearers in their dark, cheerful moods. After the burial, the pastor and the pall bearers left, leaving the three of them alone beside the grave.

“So, what’s next now?” Mr. Smith asked.

“I was about to ask the same question too sir” the headmistress said. “I think we need to think about where Kim will live now”

“How is that? What about her aunt?” Mr. Smith asked

“She has not been seen for almost four weeks now. No one knows where she is” the headmistress said.

“Then she can live with you or one of your female teachers” he said simply.

“Sir that is a problem. Like myself, I am living in a room with my husband and three kids. His siblings are also living with us, making seven of us in a room. Yet, I am better off than all my teachers. Most of them are squatting with friends and relatives.”

Mr. Smith looked unbelievably at her.

“Is it that bad?”

“It is worse sir” she said sadly.

“So what do you suggest, should she be taken to a boarding house?”

“That doesn’t sound right sir. Even boarding schools have times that they are on break, during those times, where would she be?”



Mr. Smith thought about that. He was angry at the fact that the problem of someone he didn’t know existed some weeks back had now become his own problem.

“So?” he asked, already guessing what she was driving at.

“It’s in your hands sir”

“You are saying that I should take her to my house?” he asked incredulously.

She shrugged. “You cannot leave her to be living in the streets sir”

“Impossible!” he said hotly. But the more he thought about it, the clearer it became to him that there was no one who could help her but him. But what would he tell his wife and his children? What will his friends and extended family say?





Mr. Smith drove Kim to his residence after closing from work. He led her to the guest room and told her to remain there until he calls her. After leaving her at the guest room, he began searching for his family. He checked the living room and their bedrooms but no one was there. Then he heard their voices from the playground at the back of the house. He left the house and went to meet them. They were on the basketball court; they were divided into two unequal teams. His wife and three older children were sweating and grunting as they dribbled and threw the ball among themselves. He wondered where his six year old daughter was.



“Hey daddy” he spurned around and came face-to-face with his daughter, Angela. Before he could say a word, she jumped at him and he caught her midair, hugging her tightly to his bosom.

“Why are you not playing?” he asked as he mussed her hair.

“They said I’m too short. Dad when will I grow tall like Max and mammy?” She asked seriously. Max was his first born, he was twenty years old.

“Soon. Soon darling. Don’t rush it” he said with smiles on his face. “Now get down and let me play a little”. He put her down and winked at her “You are still my favourite, Angy”

“Yes daddy” she said and winked back as he walked out of the house to the basketball court behind the house.



While they were observing a break, he gently broke the news to his family.

“Smith, you kept all these from me?” his wife asked, hurt.

“I am sorry. I was going to tell you…..”

“Tell me when?”

“Lola, calm down. You don’t understand. When I first came in contact with the girl, I thought I would never see her again until three days ago when her teacher called me and told me about her. Even at the time, I didn’t know I will end up with her”

“I have heard you but we can’t take her in” she said with a finality that told him that no matter what he says after that, she wouldn’t listen. Then she walked back into the house. It remained him and his children on the court.

“What do you think guys?” he asked his children.

“Well, there is nothing wrong with helping other people, I don’t see anything wrong with what you have done” Maxwell said.

“Thanks Max” he said gratefully.

“Yeah but mum must have her reasons for saying no” Rose said carefully. “Life is dangerous now. It is risky bringing strangers to your home, you don’t know anything about them and if they are embodiment of evil…..”

“Here we go again” Maxwell scoffed, rolling his eyeballs.

“See, he doesn’t believe in spirituality!” Rose said exasperated. She was five years younger than Maxwell but she wished she could bridge the gap because she hated the way he always have his ways in every situation.

“I don’t think we need to fight over this” their father said to douse the tension.

“Daddy, where is she? Is she here already?” John, his second son and 3rd child asked. He was twelve years old and very quiet. He reads a lot. That’s why Rose used to call him The Living Library.

“Who…the girl?”

“Yes” they all said.

“Yes, she is in the guest room. Shall we go and say hello to her? If you all accept her, I’m sure your mum too will”



He led his children into the guest room where Kim was sitting on the bed with her hands under her chin and lost in thought. They all filed in and sat on the bed close to her. “Children, this is Kim. Kim, these are my children: Maxwell, Rose, Sola and Angela”

“Hi Kim” they all said.

“Hello”

“Dad has told us about everything that happened to you and we are deeply sorry. We want you to know that we love and care about you and that for the time being that you will live us, we will treat you like a member of the family” Maxwell said and others nodded in support.

“Thank you” she said.

“Dad, why does she make those strange noises?”

“She has a speech defect” he said quietly. “It’s called Tourette. Tourette syndrome (TS) is a neurological disorder characterized by repetitive, stereotyped, involuntary movements and vocalizations called tics. The disorder is named for Dr. Georges Gilles de la Tourette, the pioneering French neurologist who in 1885 first described the condition in an 86-year-old French noblewoman. It is an involuntary repetitive sound which is caused by magnetic friction in the brain.”

“Whoa, how does she cope with the noises, especially in school?”

“One can get used to anything in this life. So we will too. The worst part of this thing is that it cannot be cured. There is no medical cure for it, yet”

Later in the evening during diner, Kim’s tics kept breaking into their conversations until they all gave up making a conversation.

For days, Mrs. Smith did not speak to Kim. She believed she was an intruder in her home and did not want anything to do with it though all her children and husband have already accepted her as a temporary member of the family.

“Smith, I can cope with anything but those sounds, Argh!” she complained endlessly.

“You mean her tics?” her husband asked gently.

“Yes, they are horrible. It’s like the barks of a dog….oh, sorry but that is the way she sounds when she has the tics and it occurs at least five times in a minute! Those sounds will run me mad.”

Later that evening, the Smiths invited another family to diner according to their tradition. Kim was told to dine in her room that night for reasons unexplained by Mr. Smith but Kim knew. The Isholas arrived at 7PM, for the diner and after they had all taken their seats, Mr. Ishola asked if the Smiths had finally decided on having a dog.

“I’m sure it is a cub, what breed is it? Rottweiler, German shepherd or….”

“We haven’t gotten a dog” Mr. Smith said quietly

“But those strange sounds coming from one of your rooms….”Mrs. Ishola said, facing Mrs. Smith and meeting her eyes challengingly. Mrs. Smith looked away, saying nothing.

By this time, no one was eating or saying anything. An embarrassed silence hung over the room. All eyes except Mrs. Smiths were turned on Mr. Smith.

“It…it’s from a girl I helped” he said quietly

“A girl you helped, so why is the sound…?” Mr. Ishola asked but stopped abruptly “Well, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, we respect your privacy despite the fact that you and I have been friends since childhood and I believe that you will not hide anything from me” He said as he thumbed Mr. Smith’s back.
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(To Be Continued)