₦airaland Forum

Chuksemi: That was an amazing write up. Thumbs up ma.

thanks

Chistar, I am going to call Paul and then we will stone you.

We will beat this, u will see and you too YEMI!!

⌣»̶·̵̭̌·̵✽̤̈CHAPTER 7✽̤̈·̵·̵̭̌«̶⌣


Near the end of the landmark of North West Province, an hours walk from the popurlar robots that divided extension 2, extension 11, extension 8 and a busy caltex garage opposite road M17 from Mabopane to Garankuwa there is a extension 12. From the main road turning on the left RDP houses and shacks sat in rows down the road to extension 10.

A mixed race (Sotho/Igbo) Woman lived among many low class settlers of Soshanguve. This woman arrived in 2006 from Western Cape, after her husband died after being hit by lightening. She believed it was bad omen and had gathered all she had, her four daughters and came to look for greener pastures in Pretoria.

She had no working experience so she opted for opening her own salon in a one roomed shack her daughters helped her build. The business provided for all the basics and had help from the government grands her girls received monthly.

She hadn't slept without food on the table, her children were well taken care off and very smart. They had received names like; "magrigamba, makwerekwere and lowlives", Harsh words and open insults but still God kept her and her and her daughters safe.

The 2008 xenophobic attacks had them locked up in her sister's flat in town for a week as their lives were in danger.

One saturday afternoon, Nneka and her daughters were lying down on the freshly cut lawn, resting from the day's early tasks which included laundry, weekly shopping at Mabopane station, spring cleaning and vegetables chopping for sunday. She was fatigued and dozing off.


“Mma, there is a car at our gate look!” Anele the lastborn informed her getting up, her mother pulled her back by the ear and she sanked back on the fleece blanket they had used as a rag. Anele's sisters started twittering about the car, it was a toyota verso.

“Maybe its aunty Keddy and one of her rich boyfriends.” Arianna, the second of her twins whispered and the girls giggled. Their mother's sister had strings of boyfriends and didn't mind bringing them with her to Nneka's house.

Nneka felt pity for her sister's five year old daughter Ada who had to move around with her mother whenever she changed boyfriends, she was glad she had taken Ada to her father as she couldn't affort to look after four pre-teen girls and a five year old, the cost of living was too high.

“Mma! Mma! Its not aunty Keddy.” Amara the first twin poked her gesturing at the two approaching ladies.

“Its Karen Igho and Bervely Osu, see their swagg?” Barbie grimaced, admiring the two approaching ladies.

“Who are those?” Nneka queried pissed, her daughters loved anything Nigerian, which was a chapter she wanted to close so badly.

“Karen won Big Brother Africa Amplified and Beverly is that model on Oleku...” Arianna replied.

“Shut your dirty mouth! Your fourteen but talks like an eighteen year old.” Nneka gestured for them to go into the house, “Go and read your books, exams are approaching!.”

The girls left groaning but her word was final. She would punish them later, Keddy's bad habits would not ruin her girls.

“Good afternoon ma'am.” The celebrities as her daughters had called them were now standing a stone throw away from her. They really looked like they had just stepped from the tv studio, high heels, tight jeans, beautiful shirts and shoulder length weaves.

“Good afternoon ladies.” she got up and offered her hand, and called her youngest daughter to bring in a bench for the visitors. The girls took her hand and introduced themselves.

“We are from Jewels of Africa, I am Ife-Oluwa and this is Kehinde.” One of the girls said, taking a seat on the bench. “We are looking for Mrs Montsho, mother of Sebabatso Montsho from Reitumetse High School.”

“I am Mrs Montsho, what do you want with my daughter?” Nneka's heart sank, what did these yoruba people want? What on earth was Jewels of Africa? Why was the bad cloud hovering over her whenever she tried to forget about it?

“What is this Jewels something of yours?” She asked watching them. There was something wrong, she could feel it, like her past were finally catching up with her.

The one who said she was Ife opened the red laptop bag and took out a small laptop.

“Jewels of Africa is a Non-Governmental-Organisation created for African women. It scouts for only the smartest girls in their last year of high school and offer them a scholarship of her choice in any of the ten top Universities in the continent.”

Still Nneka didn't understand what it had to do with Barbie, she was in grade10 and had two more years to finish high school. At the corner of her eye she could see Barbie between the curtains in the sitting room, the girl have heard it all as the window was wide open.

“Ladies my daughter is in grade10, she has two more years in high school.”

“Yes, we are aware of that but the thing is Sebabatso had already written quartely exams with the matric students and had aced them all.”

Was this some kind of a joke? Barbie? “I don't understand, erm...”

“Ife-Oluwa. here,” the lady handed her a copy of her daughter's results from January to October. “I think that will explain things? The thing is we are not allowed to make decisions before meeting the parents so if it okay with you...”

“Do you mean Barbie will be writing grade 12 exams this year?” Nneka interrupted. The lady nodded. “That's impossible, they are on monday!” She screamed. How can a 15year old be this wicked to her own mother? Nobody has ever failed a class in her family, they just had a habit of dropping out.

“Ladies, could the school get back to you?” She needed to talk to Barbie and her teachers. They had no right to take promote her child without her consent.

“Ofcourse ma'am, thank you for your time.” The ladies picked they stuff and left.

********************

“So you knew about this?” Nneka had cornered her eldest daughter in her room. After the Yorubas had left she had called Barbie in, enraged and disappointed.

“The exams were just for fun ma, I wrote them with other six grade ten learners. I didn't know they would choose me to finally write matric. I have been preparing though, just in case.”

“So you knew huh? Do I look like an idiot? Child I am your mother and you shouldn't hide things like this from me.” Nneka was trembling and swallowing tears, her daughter had never seen her cry and she wasn't going to.

“Why are you so upset mama?”

Why was she upset? “Sebabatso! Sebabatso, Sebabatso?”

“Mma?”

“How many times have I called you?”

“Three times.”

“Three times what?”

“Three times Iya Anele.”

“Now, you sit your silly behind on that floor and listen to me, very carefully.” Barbie sat down on the cold cement floor.
“Nneka Okere was a very smart child, her daddy's little girl. When I was 17, daddy got sick and my mother came back to South Africa since dad couldn't provide for her. She left me behind, I wanted to be with my father.” She blew her nose, fighting back the tears, Nneka never cried.

“Since we lived in a Yorubaland, father was not a favourite of many people, mother had been a bridge for between us and the Yorubas. Father had a dispute with my professor due to my unfaily failure of my first semester. The case didn't go so well and he was banned out of the state.”

Her daughter was crying, “Sebabatso Montsho! The Okere children do not shed tears over human hatred. Wipe those tears, your here to listen not cry, who died? Mtcheew!” Barbie wiped her tears gravely.

She remembered how day after day she would wish her father would come for her. Studies became unbearable, her peers hated her and she bacame isolated. Few months her father died and nobody from his family came for her. The only person who talked to her was the arts Professor, he took her father's position and they got closer. A year later she was in a hospital in labor, the Professor's wife had bribed her.

“Don't you have a family?” The woman had asked, before she was to deliver.

“Not that I know off, I was born and raised in this state. My mother is in South Africa.”

“Good, you will have to leave as soon as you give birth, you can't see the child. I will give you money to go look for your mother and don't ever step your foot in this state ever again.” The woman had warned her sternly. She had looked at her tummy,

“I can't leave my child!”

“Your Igbo and we are Yorubas, and your not welcome into our house. Oya tell me, what does a child like you know about children? You want my husband's child to be raised like a bastard eh?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don't you know that this man you were sleeping with is the reason your father left this state?”

She had remembered then that the case was handled by the senior Professor of the department not the lecturer. How wicked the man had been? To take away her father and ruin her life? She decided to leave the child behind and take the money as she would never love that child.

“So you left when?” Barbie asked fidgeting with her fingers.

“After seven market days, I didn't hold the child, nor know the child's sex.” She recalled. It was getting dark outside and they had to prepare dinner.

“I will go and see your teachers on monday, you will write the exams and I will see if I can go to that Jewels of Africa offices and talk to them. No child of mine will take rules from the Yorubas! Not in South Africa. Okere would have to turn in his grave o.”

“Thank you Ma,” Barbie got up and threw herself at her mother, “Despite all that you got married to Papa and raised us very well. I am proud of you.”

She patted her daughter on the back, “Now go and read your books, I am proud of you too dear.” She let her daughter go and went into the living room to give orders, Barbie would have to take time off her chores until the exams were over. Once again the 'legrikamba' child had proven to be smarter than the children in her street, her daughter was just not intelligent but smart also.

Ife dropped her laptop bag at the dining table turned den table. The aroma of grilled chicken making her salivate, Ts'oarelo was cooking. Malaika had been on the phone since she walked in, and Botshelo was watching a sitcom on tv. Why they were all relaxing while they had to study beat her.

“Lelo, please dish up o, I am hungry and I have to finish a module tonight!” She called from the den.

“Girl its friday for crying out loud, stop whining and come in here!” Ts'oarelo yelled from the kitchen. Malaika and Botshelo glowered at Ife.

“I am trying to watch television here Ife, if you don't mind.”

“And I am on a call here!” Malaika added angry, Ife shrugged and scrambled from the chair to join Ts'oarelo.

“What are you cooking?” Peeking in a pot on the stove. “Where is the chicken?” There was no sign of chicken in the stove oven or the microwave.

Ts'oarelo laughed, “Ife-Oluwa, stop.” She pushed her aside from the stove. “You will ruin the suprise, I am cooking something our ancestors used as staple food.”

Ife Ogled at the side of the pot swallowing. “Whatever it is smells dilicious, you should teach me how to cook it one of this days.”

Gaping Ts'oarelo replied. “Like you would teach me how to pound yam, mxm.”

“Pound yam?” Ife blinked, she couldn't. She took out the plates and headed to their den/dinning room. They only used that place for eating when Ts'oarelo had cooked, other days they ate lazing on the sofas or in the kitchen table.

Ts'oarelo was behind her carrying the pot, gloating. “Ladies, dinner is served!” She cooed and Malaika was at the table at once while Botshelo dragged her feet. “Ife-Oluwa, would you be a darling and dish up?” Ts'oarelo pushed a chair and sat down as the others followed suit.

“With a layer of nutritious grains seasoned with sweet spices, this dish makes a strong entree. All you will need is a glass of water and your good to go for the night.” The cook told them after Ife had dished up, smiling and carried on with her eating; fork to mouth. They ate in silence, each looked like they were in a mission to finish their food the flood Ts'oarelo with questions. With the last spoonful of the brownish meal; wheat grains mixed with brown beans. If pushed her plate aside and took out her laptop, getting ready to work.

“Ts'oarelo, that was delicious girl, I need that recipe when I graduate. My mom will hear it from me.” Malaika said pouting, she wasn't asking she was informing.

“Try harder Angie, that pout will not get you anywhere.” Ife told her.

“Will see about that.” Ts'oarelo interrupted the two with a wry grin.

Botshelo's movements had been sullen and lumbering the whole evening, her face numbed by corpulence, her natural resting expression a look of confusion. Ife wondered what was wrong, Botshelo had always been the talkative one, she always had something to say and would crap them up with jokes.

“Bots what's wrong? What's with the sullen face?” Ife asked concerned.

Botshelo got up and left for her room. “And now?” Ts'oarelo asked from the kitchen, she had collided with Botshelo on her way.

Malaika and Ife shrugged. “We could ask you, ya'll share a bedroom.” Said Malaika.

“Ai, I don't know, off to do the dishes, then I am hitting the sack.” Ts'oarelo excused herself, Malaika too veered to the bedroom, Ife packed up, there was no reason studying. Her mind was off again, her father's condition wasn't improving.

****************

Once settled she started her machine and added finishing touches to her work. She had scored the highest marks in the first semester exams and had been given an opportunity to meet one of a platinum holder of the 90's Jewels of Africa scholarships.

Jewels of Africa was created by Linda Okonkwo, in 1975. A colored woman, half British half African after visiting Uganda for the first time and had felt a need to open doors for girls across the continent as the opportunities to study were given mostly to boys and to children from wealthy families. She wrote letters to NGO's in Britain and within a year, a trust fund was open given the name Jewels of Africa.

Since then, JOA had been involved in all kinds of investments around the continent, created schools, women empowerment centres in communities where women had never had an opportunity to stand on their own two feet. There were universities in northern Africa, southern Africa, Eastern Africa, Westen Africa and Central Africa that had a partnership with JOA and took recommended students by JOA after every four years.

“I see your ready to go.” Mrs Williams walked towards the table with a jug of water and a glass of juice.

“Urm yes.” Ife replied handing her a copy of her compiled work file.

“Let's talk about you, Ife-Oluwa. Work will have to wait, I want us to unwind.” Mrs williams pushed the files away and relaxed on her chair. “How is it living with three girls with different backgrounds? Do you get along?”

“Yes, its challenging but fun at the same time.” Ife relaxed on her chair too. The woman wanted to pry into their private life which was none of her business. “Girls will always be girls. Misunderstandings now and then but overall we are good.”

“I lived in the same flat too, met three girls from Cameroon, Congo and Tanzania. They were quite a crazy bunch, the Yoruba and Masaai ones.” Mrs Williams had decided to share a little with Ife, seeing that she was trying to avoid the topic.

“Which year did you come here?” Ife asked, maybe the woman wasn't prying afterall. “1996, I won a platinum JOA student of the 90's award. Your score has to be higher than the rest of the scores other girls have in all the universities that JOA qualifers attend.” She beaming, and showed Ife an award.


***********

The whole afternoon they talked about their childhood, the challenges they face as women and tried to find a solution to their problems.

“Let's see your work, its getting late.” Mrs Williams took the file and paged through, while Ife waited with bated breath for an answer.

Mrs Williams smiling and nodding meant that she had done a good job.

“I see. Promising girl isn't she?” Ife feld a glow of happiness as she held the file of the girl she had choosen for the high school scholarship from JOA close to her chest.

It took her eight months to get the perfect girl and so far Mrs Williams seemed to like her work.

“I have to admit, your work is impressive, well researched and well written. And the description?” She winked at Ife, “I wouldn't know what I want if I don't give this girl a chance.” She placed the file down after observing it while they sipped their drinks in silence.

Ife looked at the setting sun then at her wrist watch slack jawed.

“Mrs Williams, it has been a pleasure meeting you. I would like to be excused if its okay with you ma'am.” Blissfully Mrs Williams nodded.

“Same here dear, will keep in touch?” Ife agreed gathering her stuff. It has been one long afternoon though she was happy that the deal was signed and sealed. She had been able to turn someone's life around.

⌣»̶·̵̭̌·̵✽̤̈CHAPTER 6✽̤̈·̵·̵̭̌«̶⌣


The afternoon traffic had been hectic. She had been held up at school finishing up an assignment she was to submit that afternoon. But had dragged her feet, if she had her own way, she wouldn't have done it.

She pulled her Verso by the gate, the place had soldiers sitting by every gate, up the street there was a primary school and a daycare centre. Looked like a reserved place for big shots in Pretoria with its high security, big walls and locked gates.

Men in blue overalls and masks were cutting grass and small stones flying everywhere, if you were not careful they would hurt you and the grass smelled damp and disgusting, adding to the fact that it had rained for three days in a row from tuesday to thursday.

“Ma'am, can I help you?” A tall, dark skinned mean looking guy asked her with a stern look. Whoever told soldiers to always pull a face when addressing people had been insane, those people were already ugly and having to look all mighty and mean was not flattering at all. She carried her laptop on her shoulder and locked the car, she was about to pass him when he stopped her. “Ma'am, before you pass, I have to screen you and your bags as well and you leave your keys with me.”

Ife's jaw dropped, screening? For what? And leave the key? Jesus. She wanted to protest but he meant business. “But I have an appointment with Mrs Williams at 4:00pm and I am late already.” They had given her the scholarship yet they didn't trust her?

“Ma'am, the more you talk the more time you will be wasting, if you could let me do my job?” The soldier opened a door to a room with a big screen monitor and cameras all over. A screening table like they had at the airports for luggage was near the exit. She had to put her hadbag and everything on a tray that passed through the screen. She was screened and handed a visitors card. “That wasn't difficult was it?” The soldier asked, smilling for the first time showing his yellow stained teeth. Ife said nothing and walked out of the room.

It was more like a home, the only difference was that there were no children playing on the freshly cut lawn, or a dog barking from a kennel around the yard. There were rose gardens separating the lawn, it was a beautiful place. She prepared herself, and knocked at the front door. It was not closed, gleaming parquet floors welcomed her into the warm house.

An elegant black lady called her in, she was in the kitchen making juice. “Welcome dear, would you like something to drink?” She asked in a Southern African english accent. Ife had never met the woman in her life but had read her profile on the Jewels of Africa website. An associate degree holder in social work, zimbabwean married women with two teenage children.

“Water will be fine thanks ma'am.” Ife said still at the kitchen door, she wouldn't dare take another step without being told to do so. The kitchen was furnished with floor to ceiling wall units and a sink at the center of the room.

“Please, go through that door, it will take you to the living room, when your there you will see the outside. I have set a place just by the pool, its warm and quite at that side. No cars honking every now and then.” She said gestering Ife to go there and wait for her.

The living room was combined with a dining room, the eating table was an italian master piece, a croco tavalo sedie suit. She walked out to the patio with sliding louvres and built-in braai leading to a sparkling pool, the table was already set by the pool.

[quote author=Mynd_44]Link please[/quote]https://www.nairaland.com/1240162/jewels-africa-not-without-sisters

I had my nu story endorsed like three months ago but I still neva got the spotlight, Mr MOD could u help me out?

Dygeasy: Damn!


Smh.


Okay.

lol forgive me dear but I just realised that we are still competing and I hate competitions.

This thread though, Mynd I have a complained

Dygeasy: Oh!

or just strike me down, might not be available for quite some time.

Dygeasy: I Wonder Where You've Been... Huh?

here and there...you can skip me.

*sigh*

[quote author=Mynd_44]Check this out people

https://www.nairaland.com/1388182/nairalanders-folake-needs[/quote]checked it out, great Job and may you continue to be a blessing to others.

firestar: ...um HBG?
A question?

Seriously, what inspired you to make me a Rastafarian?

Just assumed, hope m not in trouble?

Hello evely body...

Jesus Christ the ride was so smooth...

Good one Bukky, I want to be like you wen I grow up, I hail thee...and its trash not thrash