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Chapter Five

I felt a bit relieved when I learnt that Toyosi herself wasn't going to be staying with us. Only her son would be staying.

Toyosi had just met with a man she would marry but she wasn't going to let that man know that she had a child, that was why she wanted to return Bode to his father.

With the knowledge I had, my father begged her that she should stay with him. Mother said she eavesdropped on them and heard them speak—how I wish I could eavesdrop too.

My father knelt down before her, begging her to be his wife; he said he was even ready to throw my mother and I out for her sake.

"Toyosi, please come home. This place is a hell to me. Please stay with me, Toyosi," John lamented.

"You have a wife already," said Toyosi. "I can't be a second wife; I mean it's too early for me to get into rivalry with another wife. Please let me just leave Bode here. My husband loves me a lot and he won’t like to lose me," Toyosi said.

"Listen Toyosi, I quite understand you, okay. If you don't want to be a second wife, that's right. I can drive Hannah and her useless good-for-nothing child out of the house immediately..."

Good-for-nothing! If only my mum told me all these immediately my dad said so, I would have taken it hard with him. Maybe God didn't want me to go wild, that's why. I only heard that few days back after my mother had recovered. She said she eavesdropped to hear that.

Well, 'Good-for-nothing' is what I am afterall. Dad hasn't told any lie, I thought. When Bode came to the house and discovered I was deaf mute and my mother was on a wheelchair, the boy ran back and held his mother tight, saying, "Is this where you want me to stay, aunty? I can't stay in the house where everybody is disabled." He was calling his mother ‘Aunty’.

"Ssh! Bode, shut up! At least your daddy is not disabled like these other two," Toyosi said and blinked her eyes.

"But aunty, why can't you be staying here with us so that that woman on wheelchair will not ill-treat me?"

"She dares not," said Toyosi to my mother's face. "If she will do that to you my son, then it will be better for her not to be able to get up from that wheelchair forever."

When mother shared the experience with me, I wept sore and began to hate little Bode and his mother. How could they say such a thing? I will teach him a lesson of his life. Bode must become dumb like myself too, I thought.

I put a knife on fire and poured some red oil. I was going to put that knife down his throat. He would lose his voice forever, just like me.

Bode had finished eating. He was fond of making fun of me. He had even plucked a leaf and put it inside his mouth to mock me. Then he wrote something down in a paper and tucked it inside my hand. I read:

You are as deaf as a goat

Am I the one this small boy is calling a herbivore? I thought. The boy laughed and ran about when I wanted to catch him to deal with him. I wondered who thought this boy to be so heartless. Despite how my mother cared for him, he still did this to me. Why?

Bode soon return when his eyes were heavy with sleep. He fell on the bed and off he went. I made sure he was fast asleep and tied him firmly to the bed. Then I put a knife on fire and poured red oil on the hot knife. 

I will teach Bode what it means to be permanently speechless in life. Perhaps he doesn't know that the most painful thing in life is the inability to express yourself as you wish. That is why people always complain that the deaf and dumb people are the most rebellious, because we get angry when we are very much pushed to the wall because of our inability to speak out our mind.

I am going to teach Bode that I am even more terrible than a stammerer. How can anybody encroach on our right and go scot-free? I should have done this thing earlier. Why did I delay up to this time? This is not the first time Bode will be ridiculing me by putting a leaf in his mouth. I have signalled to him several times to stop that but he won't. Now he will have to bid his vocal cord a goodbye.

I sit at the edge of the bed and then stretches my body towards Bode who is fast asleep. I wouldn't know if he is snoring because I can't hear a thing. I hold the hot knife close to his face. Nothing is going to stop me from dipping it inside his throat.

I can't do it. I begin to weep. No! This is not happening. This is not me. How dare me? My hand shakes. I begin to retreat.

Bode's eyes flashed open. He was terrified. I see the movement of his mouth. He must have shouted, "Murderer!"

Bode shakes the bed vigorously. I cut the rope with the hot knife and the boy flees in horror. He didn't return until father arrives. 

My father becomes enraged. He beat me black and blue. I'm done for it.

Father locks me out of the home. Mother herself isn't allowed to come inside. He accuses my mum of bringing a bastard to his home and calling her a child. That is me daddy is calling a bastard.

That day we have to pull over in Mrs. Oyin's house. The woman becomes disappointed in me.

"Rose, how many times have I warned you to always behave gentle? You are mature for christ sake! Take a look at your bre*ast, Rose. You are a big girl."

I couldn't say anything. I just keep weeping. I know my mother doesn't deserve to be locked outside her matrimonial home. I feel very guilty.

"Rose, why did you want to kill your brother? He is your brother, no matter what? And you raised a knife to his neck to cut off his neck? Rose, Haba!" Mrs Oyin speaks on. I have no strength to raise a finger, let alone my two hands to speak. I am not in the mood to say a word.

"Do you remember what happened to Cain when he killed Abel his brother in the bible? Rose, don't you ever be pushed by anger to do evil in life, because the result of such doing will remain a stigma forever in your life..."

That is all my eyes could grab and send to my brain for interpretation: don't you ever be pushed by anger to do evil in life, because the result of such doing will remain a stigma forever in your life.

I resolve to be calm, no matter the situation. I didn't gesture it out for them to see, but in my mind I have made the decision not to bother myself over offenders. I will never raise my little fingers, let alone my hands, to fight back anymore. I will be calm like a peaceful river.

"Mrs John, we shall return to beg her father to take you back very early tomorrow morning," says my classteacher.

"Thanks so much Mrs Oyin. We are grateful," my mother says. I wonder why she doesn't blame me for whatever happens. Is she a caring mother or she is just in the process of spoiling me?
CHAPTER SIX

Daddy didn't pay attention to us for one week. Mrs. Oyin accommodates us throughout those times. Every evening we will go to our house to beg him, but he is adamant.

However, he allowed me to enter the house and pick all my clothes, including my school uniform. Bode sticks out his tongue at me, mocking me. 

We left the house again on the seventh day, but only Mrs Oyin returned to speak to him. He agrees to take us in.

--- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Bode didn't stop to offend me. But I did all I can do to avoid having trouble with him. At an instance, Bode slaps me. It is a big shock for me. Nobody has ever slapped me and go scot free before. Even Bose, the big girl everybody fears in school, is not up to my standard. I can remember the day I beat her and poured sand in her mouth.

Bode is four years younger than me, yet he will not respect his senior. He is becoming very pompous, maybe because Daddy is overprotecting him.

Bode is too dull for my liking. His exercise books are painted all over with zeros. Maybe he is having that dullness in common with his mother, because as for me, I am not dull in school, meaning that my parents are not dull too. But if it works that way, why then am I deaf and dumb when both of my parents are normal? That is a question for my science teacher.

It has been better if Bode's pomposity is all the pain my mother has to cope with. Toyosi his mother always come to check on him every weekend. Bode will tell lies to her about me and the woman will begin to blab and threaten me. She says that if anything bad happens to her son, then I should count myself dead.

It's like daddy still likes Toyosi a lot. Anytime she comes around, daddy will take her to his room and lock the door. Then they will send my mummy out of the room. They must have been having extramarital affair.

One day I ask my mummy to divorce daddy, but she refused.

"Rose, I can't do that," she says. "God doesn't like divorce."

"If God doesn't like divorce then why can't he also prevent things that can lead to divorce?" I grumble over my nose.

"Don't say so, Rose!" mummy shuns me. My eyes are wet already. I am going to shed tears. She comes around me and put her arms around my neck. Her long hair falls on my nape. She doesn't like seeing me in tears. "Rose, in the end we shall overcome," she says eventually.

I advise my mummy to trace Toyosi to her husband's house and reveal the secret once and for all, but she waves away the idea. Instead, she picks up that boring song again 'We Shall Overcome'.

My Common Entrance Examination will soon be here, but daddy refuses to get past questions and answers series for me. Mummy tries her best and gets them for me. 

My school is Ejigbo Standard School. It is both for the normal people and the special ones. Since the day I make that resolution that I will be calm, I haven't fought anybody. I didn't even talk to anyone let alone quarrelling with them and this again becomes my classteacher's headache. She will call me into her office and ask me why my name doesn't make the name of noisemaker list anymore.

"But you have told me to cease from making noise many times, and now I'm doing that, what again?" I say.

Mrs Oyin keeps quiet. She doesn't know what to say any more.
... ... ... ... ... ... ...

One day, I iron my white cloth as I get prepared for school. That particular morning, I wake up happy. I don't know why. Mother notices it before she leaves for work. Now I go to school myself because I am twelve. I am the one to take Bode to school as usual. His own school is just a stone throw from our house, but I have been mandated to take him there before going to my own school.

Bode has been yawning since the time mummy wakes him up to take his bath. The last time I check on him, he just got into the bathroom. I didn't want to be late because I am the Time Keeper of my school. Sometimes whenever I ring the bell it looks funny to me because I can't hear the sound of what I am ringing. But I have come to learn something: the blind cannot become a time keeper because they don't have eyes to check the time. Yet, they are always the first set of people to come out of their classes at the sound of the bell, touching the walls for guidance and support. It's like the walls themselves are useful. Nothing in the world is a waste Mrs Oyin will tell us many times, just to make us know that WE ARE ABLE. 

As a Time Keeper, I am supposed to be in school early, but this morning I haven't seen the possiblity; not when Bode hasn't taken his bath not to talk of eating his food, yet it is 7:24am already. It is obvious I will be late to school this time around. I can't really remember the last time I go late to school.

I leave my cloth to check on Bode if he has finished taken his bath, to my surprise he is not in the bathroom. I check the toilet to see if he is there. No, he is not there. I resign and return to the table where I am ironing my cloth, to my surprise, the cloth has been soaked up with red oil.

I raise the cloth up. Tears flow down my cheek when I see that my cloth has been burnt up with iron. I did put off the pressing iron when I went to look for Bode, so how come my cloth is now burnt up?

Bode crawls out from under the table, laughing. He gives me a note and runs away. I read it:

I don't want to go to school today

I become mad. Is it because he didn't want me to take him to school that he has to burn and stain my cloth? I am enraged within me. I sit quietly and fold my hands. 

Bode comes and sticks his tongue at me as usual. He is taking my silence for cowardice. He should have gone to my school a year ago to ask them my name: Rose The Tiger. Even Bose the Big Boss cannot face me let alone this small Bode.

Bode spreads his ten fingers at me. I hardly joke with my mother. How can he be cursing my mother? Okay, what has my mummy got to do in this matter? The tiger in me begins to form when I see those dirty fingers. His cup is full. It is time to teach him a lesson. 
No, I think. I have resolved in my mind that I will be gentle a year back and I have endured for that long, so let me not fight back.

Bode seems to be in the mood today. He wants to get me angry by all means. He comes behind me and taps my nape. Kpash! It sounds like thunderbolt. I become mad at him.

I raise Bode high up by the neck. The rest is a story. He falls down. Dead? Still alive? I can't tell.

"Ah!" my brain speaks. "I have killed somebody."

CHAPTER FOUR

Mother was discharged after two weeks. Her right hand was bandaged and attached to her neck so that her bones could heal up fast. She had her right leg in POP. Now I felt the real meaning of being deaf and dumb. I had to be at home to take care of her, but home was hell to me. No one to communicate with me.

Mother watched me as I did my sign language before her face. She could only shake her head vertically or horizontally to either concur with me or disagree to any matter I raised. Now I had to endure the true meaning of suspense: if you ask me, I couldn't understand what really transpired between daddy, mummy and the other woman in question, but it seemed mummy now knew all because I saw daddy talking to her at length. She wept endlessly and her face got swollen when father spoke then.

My teachers had come to pay my mother a visit when they discovered my absence in school. Mrs Oyin my class teacher came around and had a rapport with my mother. She then told her the whole story:

[i]John my father began to deal in extra marital affair when I was three years old—then, it was just confirmed that I was completely deaf and dumb. John needed an able child desperately then, such that he had to spread his tentacles to a woman whom I would call a prostitute; her name is Toyosi, the same woman father beat up mother for.

Daddy so much kept his affair away from my poor mother such that she didn't suspect that he was doing such a thing. It seemed that Toyosi in question was a teenager who was not through with her secondary school education then. She got pregnant and daddy asked her to abort her pregnancy because my mum was also having her second pregnancy by then also, but eventually, mummy's pregnancy was not successful. 

That was the end of their affair--Toyosi disappeared without the knowledge of my father. Daddy didn’t know if she had aborted the pregnancy or not. Things went on normally for my daddy until Toyosi showed up in his life again two weeks back--the day we foundd them playing love with each other.

Toyosi, whom I had only seen once, is a light-skinned, wide-browed pretty lady in her twenties. Going by my teacher's narration of the story, she should be about twenty-five years now, because she told me that Toyosi got pregnant when she was in J.S.S 3.

Toyosi had a lionesslike waist and the hair on her head that only day I saw her gave her the form of a lady in a beauty contest. Her teeth were spaced at the centre to add to her pulchritude. Her purplish-brown tinted eyelashes must have been artificially brushed up to exude such lustrous appearance. To call a spade a spade, Toyosi looked angelic (or maybe I should say demonic) in her make-ups. 

The cleavages her outfit revealed alone could have made my father go lusting for her again. Her miniskirt was what I would call a ‘minipant’ if there was anything like that. But why was my father so bold as to rough-handling his real wife because of a mere outlandish appendage as Toyosi? She was supposed to be punished under the law for her act, but was spared. That was even too much for her, let alone treading the path of my mother, coming into her matrimonial home and kissing my dad with those red lips of hers.

My teacher didn't want to hide anything from me regarding the matter despite the fact that it could be very bitter.

"You see, Rose, you have to be a strong lady and take heart. How old are you now?" Mrs Oyin signalled to me.

"Eleven," I signalled back and protruded my lips in dissatisfaction.

"Good! You are already mature--puberty, everything," she said and sighed at my bust as if she was just discovering the development on me. "Rose, your mother doesn't want me to hide anything from you as regards that matter."

"Which matter?" I ask.

"That matter now; that woman you see with your daddy, ehn, that woman."

"Okay, go on ma, I'm all eyes," I said. She smiled. She must have been wondering how I come about some idioms let alone using it to suit my taste. 
'I am all ears' was what I turned around to 'I am all eyes'. 

"So, Rose this is what actually happened: your daddy went into extramarital affair eight years back for reasons best known to him..."

That reason is best known to me than John himself, I thought. Then I was just three, that year it was confirmed that my eardrums weren't in place at all. So dad must have gone into the extramarital relationship because of me.

"Your daddy impregnated T-o-y-o-s-i, a Yoruba girl from..." she paused as she saw me trying to spell out the name with my hands since such name hadn't been in my vocabulary of words earlier.

"Toy? Is she a toy?" I ask strangely. Mrs Oyin signed the name to me again; there was no break between the letters when she was spelling the name, so she was not Mrs Toy Osi as I had thought earlier, but Toyosi was just a single name.

Something about me was that I was too outspoken. Maybe God knew that I would turn out to become a parrot if he had created me with a mouth that could talk, that was why he didn't do that. Well...I was still waiting to hear either my mother or my teacher tell me the gain of being disabled since they had both said that there were gains in it.

"Rose, listen, Rose," my teacher said after pulling me to see her speak. I was looking away earlier. "When your father impregnated Toyosi, he gave her money to terminate her pregnancy because your mother was also pregnant at that time. Toyosi collected the money and since then your father didn't know her whereabouts until last two weeks when she showed up in your home as you can see."

"Did I hear you say my mother was pregnant?" I asked her at once.

"Yes, she was pregnant at that time," she nodded in affirmation.

"Where is my sibling then?" I asked.

"A stillborn, Rose. It was dead at birth."

I am 'mute'. So I should have had a brother, a younger brother, I thought and shook my head in self-pity.

"Ahh!" I yell as if a big bedbug had just punctured my skin. "So I should have had a brother or sister!" I intensified my response to show my utmost displeasure.

"Yes Rose, you should have had a brother," she said. "Well... goodnews Rose, now you have a brother," she smiled. "And your brother will be here any moment from now," she added.

"A ghost brother? Stillbirth?" I was horrified.

"No, no, no, Rose. Your brother will be here any moment from now--your brother from another mother, Bode by name."

"What! Who is Bode?" I asked and shouted with my useless mouth.

"Bode is Toyosi's son she had for your daddy. He would be here soon to live with you. He's only seven years, Rose, so take care of him very well when he comes. Don't fight him at all. You are from the same father, so please take good care of him."

My head began to knock like a car engine as sweat covered me up. I began to envisage the beginning of torture for myself and my mother. That Toyosi in question, a second wife? Yes, this is the beginning of torment for myself and my mother, I thought.

I left my teacher in the parlour and went straight into my mother's room. She was sitting on a wheelchair, being confined to such since the day she was pushed by my daddy.

"Mummy is it true?" I asked with utmost seriousness written on my face.

She shook her head in affirmation, weeping.

"Aargh!" I screamed in sign language.

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CHAPTER FOUR~~~~~~~~~

Mother was discharged after two weeks. Her right hand is bandaged and attached to her neck so that her bones can heal up fast. She has her right leg in POP. Now I feel the real meaning of being deaf and dumb. I have to be at home to take care of her, but home was hell to me. No one to communicate with me.

Mother watches me as I do my sign language before her face. She can only shake her head vertically or horizontally to either concur with me or disagree to any matter I raise. Now I have to endure the true meaning of suspense: if you ask me, I can't understand what really transpires between daddy, mummy and the other woman in question, but it seems mummy now knows all because I see daddy talking to her at length. She weeps endlessly and her face swells when father speaks then.

My teachers have come to pay my mother a visit when they discover my absence in school. Mrs Oyin, my classteacher comes around and rapports with my mother. She then tells her the whole story:

John, my father, begins to deal in extra marital affair when I was three--then it has just been confirmed that I am completely deaf and dumb. John needs an able child desperately then, such that he has to spread his tentacles to a woman whom I will refer to as a prostitute; her name is Toyosi.

Daddy so much keeps his affair away from my poor mother such that she didn't suspect that he is doing such a thing. It seems that Toyosi in question is a young teenager who is not through with her secondary school education then. She gets pregnant and daddy asks her to abort her pregnancy because my mum was also having her second pregnancy by then also (mummy's pregnancy was not successful).

That's the end of their affair--Toyosi disappears without the knowledge of my father. He can't tell if she has aborted the pregnancy or not. Things goes on normally for my daddy until Toyosi shows up in his life again two weeks back--the day we find them kissing each other.

Toyosi, whom I have only seen once, is a light-skinned, wide browed pretty lady in her twenties. Going by my teacher's narration of the story, she should be about twenty-five years now, because she tells me that Toyosi gets pregnant when she was in J.S.S 3.

Toyosi has a lionesslike waist and the hair on her head that only day I see her makes her take the form of a lady in a beauty contest. Her teeth are spaced at the centre to add to her pulchritude. Her purplish-brown tinted eyelashes must have been artificially brushened up to exude such lustrous appearance. To call a spade a spade, Toyosi looks angelic (or maybe I should say demonic) in her make-ups.

The cleavages she reveals alone could have made my father go lusting for her again. Her miniskirt is what I would refer to as a minipant if there is anything like that. But why is my father so bold as to rough-handling his real wife because of a mere outlandish appendage as her? She is supposed to be punished under the law for her act, but she is spared. That is even too much for her, let alone treading the path of my mother, coming into her matrimonial home and kissing my dad with those red lips of hers.

My teacher doesn't want to hide anything from me regarding the matter despite the fact that it can be very bitter.

"You see, Rose, you have to be a strong lady and take heart. How old are you now?" Mrs Oyin signals to me.

"Eleven," I signal back and protrudes my lips in dissatisfaction.

"Good! You are already mature--puberty, everything," she says and sighs at my bust as if she is just discovering the development on me. "Rose, your mother doesn't want me to hide anything from you as regards that matter."

"Which matter?" I ask.

"That matter now; that woman you see with your daddy, ehn, that woman."

"Okay, go on ma, I'm all eyes," I say. She smiles. She must have been wondering how I come about some idioms let alone using it to suit my taste.
'I am all ears' is what I turn around to 'I am all eyes'.

"So, Rose this is what actually happened: your daddy went into extramarital affair eight years back for reasons best known to him..."

That reason is best known to me than John himself, I think. Then I am just three, that year it is confirmed that my eardrums weren't in place at all. So dad must have gone into the extramarital relationship because of me.

"Your daddy impregnates T-o-y-o-s-i, a Yoruba girl from..." she pauses as she sees me trying to spell out the name with my hands since such name hasn't been in my vocabulary of words earlier.

"Toy? Is she a toy?" I ask strangely. Mrs Oyin signals the name to me again; there is no break between the letters when she is spelling the name, so she is not Mrs Toy Osi as I have thought earlier, but Toyosi is just a single name.

Something about me is that I am too outspoken. Maybe God knows that I will turn out to be a parrot if he has created me with a mouth that can talk that is why he didn't do that. Well...I am still waiting to hear either my mother or my teacher tell me the gain of being disabled since they have both said that there are gains in it.

"Rose, listen, Rose," my teacher says after pulling me to see her speak. I was looking away earlier. "When your father impregnates Toyosi, he gave her money to terminate her pregnancy because your mother was also pregnant at that time. Toyosi collected the money and since then your father didn't know her whereabout until last two weeks when she showed up in your home as you can see."

"Did I hear you say my mother was pregnant?" I ask her at once.

"Yes, she was pregnant at that time," she nods in affirmation.

"Where is my sibling then?" I ask.

"A stillborn, Rose. It was dead at birth."

I am 'mute'. So I should have had a brother, a younger brother, I thought and shook my head in self-pity.

"Ahh!" I yell as if a big bedbug has just punctured my skin. "So I should have had a brother or sister!" I intensified my response to show my utmost displeasure.

"Yes Rose, you should have had a brother," she says. "Well... goodnews Rose, now you have a brother," she smiles. "And your brother will be here any moment from now," she adds.

"A ghost brother? Stillbirth?" I am horrified.

"No, no, no, Rose. Your brother will be here any moment from now--your brother from another mother, Bode by name."

"What! Who is Bode?" I ask and shout with my useless mouth.

"Bode is Toyosi's son she had for your daddy. He would be here soon to live with you. He's only seven years, Rose, so take care of him very well when he comes. Don't fight him at all. You are from the same father, so please take good care of him."

My head begins to knock like a car engine as sweat covered me up. I begin to envisage the beginning of torture for myself and my mother. That Toyosi in question, a second wife? Yes, this is the beginning of torment for myself and my mother, I think.

I leave my teacher in the parlour and go straight into my mother's room. She is sitting on a wheelchair, being confined to such since the day she was pushed by my daddy.

"Mummy is it true?" I ask with utmost seriousness written on my face.

She shook her head in affirmation, weeping.

"Aargh!" I scream in sign language.

Divepen1:
I don't have jurisdiction outside Literature section but let's tag

Dominique
Lalasticlala

Okay, thanks

Divepen1:
Ebi awon genius

Ebiag. Good to have you back here.

Thanks. Pls I want to bring back an old thread which I hid, but Mynd44 is not replying me. What should I do?

Here is the thread: https://www.nairaland.com/1498966/everybody-genius-us-based-story#down

Divepen1:
Sammy hoe?

Yes boss, I'm loyal sir

CHAPTER THREE

It is such a great hell for my dad while he was at home those two weeks. The man loves to go to work. If possible, he will make his workplace a permanent abode, just to avoid what he calls a sick home.

John tells my mother to allow me remain at home with him, but the woman rejects blatantly.

What is my father's motive for demanding such thing? I am just eleven, so what do I know?

At school, I begin the question again:

"Is there any reason for God creating us like this?" I ask my clasateacher. She was rash at saying yes, yet she couldn't state a reason.

"Rose, you ask too much. Stop thinking of what you can't do; think of what you can do."

"What can I do?"

"You can see, walk and..."

"That's normal," I say. "Everybody else can do those things too."

"But Joshua and Gbade can't do any of those things," she says.

My hands drop. To raise them, no vigour. Each time I remember the case of Joshua and Gbade, I always feel like climbing a ladder to heaven to pull God down and fight him.

Joshua is paralysed and at the same time blind. Gbade's case is the worse; he is deaf and dumb as well as blind and lame. If John is Gbade's father he would have thrown him inside the Oke Afa canal.

Some sweat pour down my neck and soaked my school uniform. Now I begin to imagine how Gbade has been able to survive the hardship he is into.

It is just two days left for my father's suspension to be over when something strange happens. That day, mother carries me home in father's blue volkswagen car. We open the door of the house and to our surprise, daddy and another lady were kissing each other in the parlour.

They see us but did as if they didn't.
I began to see many mouths moving. I began to imagine the conversation they were making:

"What is happening?" my mother cries out.

"Is she your wife?" the woman says. It seems she has just come out of her senses.

"Em...you are my real wife, not her," daddy says without any humane feeling.

"John!" my mother cries. The man just looks away lackadaisically and hissed.

"Em...Toyosi, leave that scallywag alone and let's continue our love."

Right before my eyes my mother is being denied of her marital right. This is not right. I made a shrilled sound. At least I can shout even though I am dumb.

Daddy gets irritated and comes for me at once. Mother stands in his way. The wicked man pushes his wife out of the way. She loses balance and falls. I guess mother must have broken some bones in the process.

Now I remain still, harden myself so I can be prepared for daddy's beating. He looks on at me and I don't know why he didn't pounce on me as his manner is. He stands gazing at me for a while, then he carries my mother up. She can't stand on her own anymore.

I have to check on my mother in the hospital the next day. I have missed school that day. She is on wheelchair, her hands and legs on bandage. We look on at each other. She can't communicate with me right now because she can't move her hands.

"Get well soon mummy," I say, kneels before her and went down on her laps, weeping.

"Mummy, what is the matter with daddy?" I ask in tears. My mother can't move her hands so there is no way she will signal her response to me.

Chapter Three

While Onuku was busy hunting for the white guy, Ojoma was busy making friends all over the streets of Agungi and Ajiran. She had become well-known already within Bakare estate, just within one week.

Many guys had asked her out for a date but she hadn't answered any of them. However, Ojoma made friends with both males and females alike. Her accent was heavily laden with her local dialects and many people laughed at it. She actually did not complete her secondary school education because of the pressure she was getting from her family members back then.
It was Ojoma's father who had pressurised her to get married in those days. She was only fifteen years with a primary school certificate when her father coerced her to get married, but her mother Eleojo refused to let her oblige her father's wish.

Achimi, the father of Ojoma, was an aged traditionalist who did not see anything useful about western education. He had offered Ojoma to a man who was about fifty-two years old for marriage.

She would become the fifth wife of that man, just how her mother was the fifth wife of her father. Eleojo refused the gesture and quickly took her daughter to the city, Idah, to live with her friend Iganya to school her their. Eleojo had to work harder so as to get money to send to Iganya for her daughter's school fees.

Eleojo had preferred having Ojoma with her rather than sending her to her friend's place, but she was left with no choice as secondary school was far from her community and she wanted to relieve her daughter of the pressure her husband was mounting on her to get married.

When Ojoma began to live with Iganya, she was treated unfairly in all ways. Rather than getting schooled by that woman, she was used more like a housemaid.

Iganya did not send her to school, even after Eleojo had sent some money to her to pay her school fees. She maltreated Ojoma to the extent that the poor girl took to her heels and returned to Agabada her village. She had only spent eight months with her in Idah, but it seemed like eight years to her.

When Eleojo saw her daughter, she screamed. Ojoma was just a little fatter than a hungry skeleton. Her fair skin had turned brown and dull. Her dimples now appeared like potholes rather than the ripples of water. Her eyeballs had sunken deeper into their sockets. Her hair were like dirty dreadlocks intertwined with lice. She was not looking healthy at all.

Eleojo needed no specialist to tell her that her daughter had been maltreated by her friend before admitting that fact. She was very angry to the extent that she wouldn't mind trekking the long journey from Egabada to Idah that day to slug it out with Iganya who treated her daughter badly.

Since then, she had vowed never to let her daughter get out of her sight anymore. It took extra effort from friends and colleagues before Eleojo could allow Onuku her sister to take Ojoma from her four years later. Onuku had to swear that she would take good care of Ojoma, else she would not have released her to her.
Now Ojoma had rejected her aunt's proposal to join her in her prostitution business, rather, she had opted for a sales girl job where she received #20,000 monthly, a meagre amount compared to what her aunt had assured her that she would be earning had it been she had listened to her advice. However, Ojoma preferred it to harlotry.

Chapter Two

Aunty Onuku, as everybody called her, was a dark-skinned and chubby woman in her late thirties. She did everything to appear 20, but her pimply skin would not afford her the chance.

Aunty Onuku had always wanted to lose weight. She had taken slim tea several times. She had turned early morning jogging to a routine, all in a bid to shed some pounds of flesh. She had even fasted for days, but the coagulation of fat in her body seemed not to understand her desires. While she was jogging one day, she met her crush, a white man in his late twenties. His name is Jeff. He is from the USA. Jeff had a kind of shape any girl would want from a man. He stood six feet and 9 inches tall. He had a narrow nose and a pair of lips tinted with pink.

Jeff worked in Chevron. He was an expatriate.
That fateful Saturday morning, Onuku was jogging as usual when Jeff jogged past her. She jogged faster, or maybe ran to catch up with him. Then when she was beside him, she fixed her gaze at him while they continued to move forward. Jeff looked at her for a while and turned his face the other way. Seemed he was not interested. Onuku persisted in her antics and slipped intentionally to gain attention. She screamed. Jeff halted and came to her rescue. He offered her a helping hand. The feel of Jeff's soft palms sank deeply into her sensation. She held tight to his arms as he pulled her up. She winked and said, "Thanks so much," with a large smile on her face. Jeff just made a 'thumbs up' and jogged past her again. Onuku increased her pace to catch up with him. When she did,she said, "Guy, do you know that you're actually an angel sent from God?"

"Really?" Jeff replied with a faint grin.

"Yeah," Onuku said. "You picked me up when I slipped. What more can an angel do?"

"Well...it's my pleasure," Jeff replied. It seemed he wasn't enjoying the conversation.

"Em...please may I know your name?" she said with a raised eyebrow. She was trying to sound American.

"Jeff," he said, "Jefferson."

"Hmm, what a name! I'm Jenny, Jennifer," Onuku lied. It was the first foreign name that came to her mind.

Onuku was never christened with a foreign name. Her father was a well-known traditionalist in Egabada. His name was Achimi. He had four wives and Onuku was the last daughter of his last wife. Onuku was picked from Egabada by a native of that village who was a successful business woman on the Islands in Lagos. She used her as a house help until she got tired and ran out of the house to make her craft in the art of prostitution at Jakande, through a Calabar girl called Ofem. She hustled for six years before she could get some money to establish herself in a larger way in that line of business. Then she rented a two-bedroom apartment at Bakare Estate, Ajiran.

Now Onuku had reached for her I-phone in her waist bag. She was asking for Jeff's telephone number. He reluctantly dictated the digit to her and she smiled conspicuously and said, "Thanks dear," as she quickly stored the number on her IPhone 6 and kept on staring at it. When she looked again, Jeff was already a considerable distance away. She was tired of doubling her pace this time as she was already exhausted. She heaved a sigh and bent over to catch her breath. Then she said, "I have caught a big fish today." She hit her right fist against her open left palm and then raised the fist to her lips to kiss it. Then she turned around. It was time for her to return home. She ordered Uber and then humped into the Toyota Corolla car to take her home.

Chapter One

Ojoma was lucky. It had not been so for every random lady on the street of Lagos. She had only come to Lekki in Lagos for six months before she met her white lover. Ojoma is a native of Kogi state. She is tall, light-skinned and a tint of red over her face. Friends and family had described her beauty as second to none. Her cheeks lay perfectly above her chin. She had a velvety smooth skin, devoid of pimples and 'potholes'. Her teeth seemed to have been carved out by a blacksmith from heaven.
Ojoma enjoyed walking with gaits. She had long strides too, gifting her the steps of a ballerina.

Asked what her hobby was, she had simply replied, "Meeting people." Ojoma stood six feet and one-inch tall. She detested high-heeled shoes. She said she did not want to appear like a masquerade. She would rather get shoes with flat heels.

Ojoma had made several friends within her first one week stay in Lagos. She stayed with her Aunt, Onuku. At first, Aunty Onuku was accommodating, but when she began to notice how her niece had come to 'steal the show', she got jealous. Aunty Onuku was a resident of Agungi in Lekki, Lagos. She lived close to Ajiran, in a little estate called Bakare Estate. Aunty Onuku was a 'hustler' who had customers coming to look for her in her resident. She intentionally brought Ojoma to Lagos to join her in the business, but to her disappointment, she rejected her proposal.
"Aunty, when you were bringing me to Lagos, you didn't tell me that this is what you are bringing me for," Ojoma said in her Igala dialect. Her voice sounded like those of a 14-year old girl, although she was already twenty.

Aunty Onuku said, "How do you think I have the money to buy a lot of stuffs anytime I am coming to Egabada to see my family during Christmas? If you don't hustle here in Lagos, you will just die like a fowl!"

"But Aunty, you didn't take me from village to do this ashawo business, did you?"
When Aunty Onuku heard that, she slapped her hard on the left cheek and said, "Oji Oma, I am in control and you will do whatever I dictate!" The slap rocked Ojoma's cheek like a wicked stray bullet. She felt a strong reverberation on her cheek. She held her hot red cheek for a while and let it go eventually. Then she sulked and walked out of the room. If she had her way at that moment, she would have returned to the village where she came from. At least, it is better to be in the hands of poor people who cared than in the care of a nagging aunt who wanted to use her for prostitution. Ojoma shed tears and gnawed at her fingernails. She had no phone, else she would have called her mother and report Aunty Onuku her baby sister to her. She wept silently.

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CHAPTER TWO
I watched as mother and father argued over the matter. My father moved close to her and pointed a finger at her eyes. I felt blood rushing to my head.  Mother told me that two weeks payment would be deducted from father's salary. I laughed heartily. "Good for him," I told mother. Father saw the smile on my face and he was suspicious. Why should I not be glad that my dad was going to lose part of his money? If I was not glad about it, who then should be? That man wasn't the one paying my school fees. He had stopped doing that since the year before. From the onset he had objected to my schooling, believing it would amount to an effort in futility. John wouldn't see anything good in educating a handicapped child.  "What is the usefulness of a disabled child?" he would tell my mother. He began to militate against my remaining in school. He wanted me out by all means, complaining that it was a sheer waste of money.  I felt useless when John gave me the reasons why I shouldn't remain in school. It was the first time he would communicate with me through letter: What do you intend doing after school? Doctor?Nurse?Lawyer?Engineer?Pilot? You can't do any of those or anything in life without your ears and mouth, I hope you know. Rose, I hereby want to advise you to pull out of school and master house works because that is the only thing you can do without your ears and mouth. I had wanted these ever since; only that mother insisted I should remain in school. I was not an academic enthusiast, but I was not bad in school at all. Now, father said he wouldn't pay my fee, so what was the essence of arguing with him now? I knew John was only trying to hurt my feelings, but he was shocked when I laughed for the first time and wrote back to him, "Thank you so much. I have been looking forward to that." I had only stayed two weeks away from school when my mother came with a big shock. "Rose, you are returning to school?" "What!" I responded in my sign language. My oval-shaped mouth also synched the word. I have learnt a lot from lipreading my teachers in school, such that I could figure out some things people are saying with their mouths. "You have won a scholarship!" Mother said.  "How?" I asked, puzzled. I hadn't applied for any scholarship. "Last year when your father began threatening to pull you out of school, I decided to apply for a scholarship for you and..." I held my mother's hands. I didn't want to see more of her speech. I didn't buy the idea of returning to school. "Please tell the scholarship sponsors to stop wasting their monies on disabled like me," I said. "No matter what they spend, I will remain disabled in life." I rushed to my room and held tight to my pillow. Tears were soaking the soft pillow in my grip. I took a little time gazing at the wall. My thought began to speak out: They teach us that God is kind, but here am I...I can't speak. If he is kind, why can't he make me like the other people? I came to the world, useless. How am I different from the animals in the jungle? I learnt that animals can't speak too. Little wonder Bayo keeps putting leaf inside his mouth every time, just to show me that I am an herbivorous animal... My nape felt a touch. The sensation slid down and rested on my left shoulder. I had shut my eyes long ago, only feeling the seepage of my tears on my cheeks. It was mother's touch. If I knew she would be coming in, I would have bolted the door. I didn't want to go to school. "You are able, Rose," mother said. "A proof or I don't believe it," I responded. "A proof?" Mother said. She was confused. "Tell me what a deaf person can do that a normal person cannot do. Tell me the job I can be offered without my ears and mouth functioning. After then, I might reconsider schooling." Mother racked her brain. She scratched her braided hair for answer such that the bobby pins on them began to fall off. Still, no answer to give.  "Tell the sponsor of that scholarship to transfer it to a normal person. I am done with schooling," I said. Mother sat on the bedside. I could see her throat moving up and down like a jangrover. Her red lips came out to lick her tears intermittently. "For how long, Rose, for how long would I keep begging you to stop being inferior? Rose, just...just..." I had buried my face in the pillow. I didn't want to go to school. Period! In the end I decided to comply. Ever since, I'd been on scholarship. So, John's salary could keep on decreasing, how should I care? But I still wanted to know what brought the disabled at par with the normal people. If my mum and my class teacher couldn’t give me the proof that ‘I am able’ in three weeks time, I shall go on personal strike.

CHAPTER ONE

I feel a cold touch at my back. It is harmattan period. I just want to be left on my bed. I turn around like a fat cake, but mother turns me around again. I can see her mouth moving. I wonder what she is saying. But certainly she can’t be saying anything more than the fact—I am lazy.

My school is in Ejigbo, Lagos. They say we are special people, yet I haven’t perceived anything special about us. Some of us can’t talk. Some of us can’t walk; some of us can’t see, yet they say we are special. Well, I am not moved a bit by those flatteries.

I look at mother’s hand movements. It is funny to me. I smile. I wonder when she will be able to master the sign language.

“Rose, get out of bed,” she has managed to communicate with her hands. She has to repeat each word just to put them at their best. I could remember challenging my teacher some times back that…

I rise up lazily and go straight for my bath. When I get to the bathroom, I see a basin filled with water there. Wow! It is warm. I splash the water on my body. I observe that the door is shaking but I didn’t really think about it. I continue pouring water on my body. Today in particular, I spend around thirty minutes in the bathroom. The water is just exactly as I want it to be—warm.

When I step out of the bathroom, daddy gives me a scornful look. The grotesque on mother’s face also suggests to me that I have done something wrong again. Why me all the time?
My father gets into the bathroom and begins to open his mouth. Since I am deaf, I didn’t hear what he is saying, but my mother is opening her mouth too in return. They understand each other—it’s only we, the special one so called, that can’t understand them.

Mother helps father to carry a bucket of water into the bathroom. That man—always angry. I don’t know his problem. He is far away from me more than a stranger. I wonder why he is my father. Mother quickly taps me and I face her when that man has entered the bathroom.
“Rose, you used your father’s water,” mother says to me in her amateur sign language, yet she claims that she has learnt the language while I was five years of age. I wonder what is still keeping her in the amateur level till now, after six years.

“I used his water? How?” I ask. Sometimes my hands just get tired of speaking. I wonder how I will be able to speak if I become paralyzed in my hands or a bad accident claims them.

“I put his water in the bathroom first because he must be in Ikeja as early as possible.”

“Why don’t you tell me that before I entered the bathroom?” I ask.

“Em…Rose…erm…” my mother’s face is clugged up with tears. I know she is a very tender person—not wanting to raise anything that will remind me of my status—deaf and dumb.

“Em what? What has letter ‘M’ got to do with this?” I am confused.

“When you were leaving, I was calling you, but you were too fast. You have already entered the bathroom. I only woke you up so that you could go and brush your teeth and not to take your bath. Your daddy will be angry with us. He has been kicking at the bathroom door for a long time to break it if he could.”

I know what mother is talking about: she wakes me up; I rush to the bathroom without looking at her to hear from her (you have to look at someone to see his/her communication). But if that is the only thing that has happened, does it warrant my dad frowning at me in that manner as if I am nothing but a fart?

“Is he my daddy? I doubt it,” I say. Mother doesn’t want my eyes to get those tears in them again. She comes on time to wipe them off for me. I don’t believe I have a daddy yet. The only pictures I took with that man mother calls my dad are the ones during my one year and two years birthdays. No recent pictures, yet I am already eleven. Maybe if he knew that I would never speak in life, he would not have snapped those pictures with me then.

Who creates me? I am sure it is not the same God who creates the other people on earth. I have approached my mother once and said, “Don’t you think it is satan who creates me?”

“Don’t say that again Rose!” mother replies me. The vigour with which she moves her hands shows to me that she is shouting.

“But why can’t I hear and speak?” I challenge her. “I thought that they say that all the things he creates were good.”

“You are good either,” she says to me.

“Good?” I laugh mockingly. Those lips of mine, what can they do other than eating, laughing and crying? I have been advised by my teachers to laugh always, since it will prevent my mouth from smelling. But I don’t seem to see the reason for laughing at all. I only laugh to make jest of people sometimes. Nothing again can make me laugh, even if you tickle me I won’t.
I didn’t feel like going to school that day again. That man in the bathroom has killed my joy. How I wish I am not born into this family. If I am born into another family, it’s only my mother I will miss. Who cares about John, that wicked man? I think.

Reluctantly, I sit at the table. If only mummy can allow me have my own meal inside my room and not at the dinning table. Or what is the essence of eating at the dinning table when my daddy is having his own food in a separate dish? It’s only my mother and I who eat together in the same plate.

I see the way John is leering at me as if he should just lock me up somewhere. He is guzzling the food as if he hasn’t eaten since the day before yesterday. He can’t even communicate with me since he has refused to learn the sign language like my mother. He will only tell my mother to tell me anything he wanted to tell me, yet if he has written them down I would have understood him. I have perceived that mother doesn’t use to tell me what my father was asking her to tell me. Perhaps my father’s words will be too harsh on me. She has to come out clear one day when the preacher in our church condemns the act of lying in all its ramifications. That day, mother said to me that she has been telling me the opposites of what father has been asking her to tell me. I didn’t need to ask her what exactly he has been saying since commonsense is there in me to know that they were unpleasant things.

I am looking away while eating. Mother taps me. A mould of amala is still in her grip, but she has something to tell me. With the food in her hand, mother gestures to me, “Rose, your daddy says you should stop looking away from your food.”

I frown.

I know that what he said is more than that. His face can tell it all—many wrinkles on his forehead. If only he can speak in a mild manner to me, it had been better.

I quickly readjust and eat my food, silently as usual, since there isn’t any noise I want to make. I see daddy speaking to her again. This time, mummy speaks back with an angry face. It seems as if they are on my matter again. At last, mummy speaks to me:

“Rose, don’t get angry, but your dad says that I should tell you that if his boss gets angry at him for coming late to office today, then you are in trouble. But don’t mind him, Rose, he can’t do anything for you.” That is how my mummy will always say, yet that man will beat both of us together whenever it is time for him to do so.

My father looks at us as if he is suspecting that my mother is saying more than he said to her. I look at his mouth and I am able to figure out the first word he says:

“Hannah…” That is the name of my mother.
I fold my hands and didn’t eat again. Father didn’t even care. He has finished eating the amala. He has begun to rush out of the house. That Volkswagen he has, he hasn’t used it to take me to school once. Sometimes my mummy will use it to take me there if he is on afternoon duty, since he will be sleeping in the morning by then.

Father points to me as if he is threatening me when he gets to the door. Mother is just looking at him. When he leaves, she rushes to me and hugs me tight. She was shedding tears as she presses her lips firmly against my cheek.
I am off to school. Mother takes me there herself before going to her own work too. Throughout the school period, I didn’t speak a word. Mrs Oyin, our class teacher is surprised. How come Rose’s name didn’t enter the name of noise maker today? she must have thought (we write names of noise makers in our school too; making unnecessary sign language is a noise).
Mrs. Oyin is a second mother to us. She likes everyone of us in Primary Six B. When she comes into the class to punish the noise makers, she calls me out and takes me out of the class. If only I can hear, then she would not have taken me out of the class. She would just have whispered into my ears.

In the office, she says, “Why are you not speaking today?” I tell her there is nothing.
When I get back home, daddy was already inside. I am surprised. He is supposed to be in the office by then.

I go on my knees to greet him, but then, he slaps me on the face. I scream with all the power inside me. He will be the only one to suffer the sound from my throat. He didn’t leave me alone. He has come on me, punching me like a punching bag. Mother rushes in at once and begin to prevent him. But it is too late. My eyes are swollen already, yet I didn’t know my offence.
It is the next day I know what has happened. My father has been suspended from office for two weeks for getting late to work that day. But does that call for dealing with me brutally that way?

God should kill me once and for all, I think.

Now everybody let's gather here to read wonderful stories from your one and only, Sammy. I'm back with both the old and new stories. Enjoy yourself with this first.

Title: WE ARE ABLE
Copyright©SammyLuv2020

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When as heard from mattkent, sammy hoe, ironkutain, T Daniel

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