Chapter 9: Chapter 9

When obstacle arises, you change your direction to reach your goal; you do not change your decision to get there.

-Zig Ziglar

Lecture had started fully. Our results were out and I performed excellently. Rahamat settled the bad blood between me and Sholape the day she arrived from home quoting a Yoruba adage that “evil must be conquered the day it was revealed”. She told me to apologize to Sholape that she only cared for me, and I shouldn’t have shunned her the way I did. I honestly didn’t think she deserves an apology, but I apologized anyway for peace to reign. I just hope she kept her nose out of my relationship forever, which was not feasible. It would be easier for Sholape to stick her hand in a flame than kept her nose out of people’s business.

I found a way to balance my relationship with Gbenga and friendship with Abdullah with neither of them knowing the other. Abdullah had been busy with his final year project so it was easy to checkmate him. I knew I should tell him about Gbenga before he found out, but whenever I wanted to bring it up something always come up, and I didn’t want to ruin the moment with him. Sholape drilled me to know what I shared with Abdullah. I told her he was just a friend but she wasn’t convinced. At a point I was frustrated. I asked if she wanted to date him. “Babe! Look at me wella, does it look to you that a broke guy can afford me” she asked. “Then stop digging where you are not needed so you don’t get caught” I told her. She smiled ominously. “We would see who will get caught wouldn’t we? She asked rhetorically. Rahamat was the voice of reason between us whenever we were at each other’s throat and she always intervened to prevent any bust up.

While I was trying to balance Gbenga and Abdullah in my schedule; another competition had started back home for my attention. At least that’s how I understand the incessant calling from father and mother. Mother had always been the one that call me often. But recently or since I resumed the semester, father had developed the attitude of calling at least once in a day to ask how I was faring and if I performed my salat. Thanks to Rahamat new found piety I was able to give him diluted truth most times, because I always observed solat with her when I am not touring the city with Gbenga. I was with Abdullah when Father called to tell me my brothers were done with their final exam and he planned to send them to madrasat to further their Arabic study. “Wouldn’t they go to higher institution? I asked. “They will further after their Arabic school. I don’t want to have children that care about worldly things and think less of their creator. Allah will query me on all of you. I don’t want to enter hell for failing in my responsibilities” he said. “Will they be returning to the house after the day lesson?” I asked. “They will be living there as borders. We are relocating to Ikeja” he replied. “Ikeja will be too far for mother to go to her store” I observed. “She will get another store over there” he said unperturbed and I knew he had predetermined everything. “How did mother feel about it? I asked. “I don’t care how she felt. I am the man of the house and that’s my decision”. The authority or defiance in father’s voice was uncustomary that I was taken aback by his sharp retort. I couldn’t say any other thing than “alright sir”. “Be a good girl, offer your prayers and read your books. You will succeed Bihithnillah” he prayed. “Allahumo amen” I replied and he hung up.

I didn’t know what my face looked like but I saw the concern on Abdullah’s face. “Are you okay” he asked “you look like someone issued you a death threat”. I quickly rearranged my expression. “Yeah I’m fine; the call was from my dad, I guess I will be returning to a new home after school” I said trying my best to be impassive. He looked at me with keen eyes, sometimes I felt he could read my thought. “Is it supposed to be good news or bad news” he asked. I forced a smile. “You tell me. Where would you rather live between Iyana Ipaja and Ikeja.” He thought about it for some seconds, “It depends”. “On what” I asked. “The people I’m leaving behind. A place is only as good as the people we met there” he replied. I thought about what he said, and I imagined the customers mother would leave behind in her store, the friends my brothers grew up with in the neighbourhood, and my friends back in secondary school who still live around. I drag myself out of my reverie and looked at Abdullah’s face. He smiled, “since I met you, I stopped being hasty to leave this campus. I want to enjoy every moment to the fullest” He said. “I don’t deserve you” I told him. “I know” he replied and we both laughed.

I was at my hostel trying to decipher the calculation in one of my major course when mother called two days after I received father’s call. She was venting her frustration at father’s decision like there was something I could do to make him change his mind. I told mother to try to be patient with him on this one, but she threw it at my face. “Call your father that made careless decision and tell him his plan wouldn’t work. He wanted to block where I see the little change to take care of myself. It wouldn’t work. I’m not going anywhere with him” she lamented. “Mother please calm down.” “Don’t tell me to calm down. I knew how I paid your school fees when you get admission. It took years for me to gain ground in that area, and now he wanted me to start afresh in another place. For what? Selfish human being! Because he does servant work for his ex girlfriend’s husband now he thought he can do anything he want. Shameless man!” She was speaking in Yoruba so fast that I couldn’t catch some of the sentences. I kept silent and waited for her to ease off. “Mother you called because you wanted me to talk to you” I said speaking to her in Yoruba. “No! I called you to help me talk sense into your father; you are not a small child anymore. Talk to him o. I don’t want trouble”. “Alright, I will try” I said and she hung up. I couldn’t continue with my study, the flow was broken. I borrowed Sholape’s laptop and started watching a Korean series I’ve been following for months.

On Sunday, Rahamat said she was going to attend Muslim Students Society program being held on campus. She invited me to go with her but I told her I was tired. The night before I was out with Gbenga; I realized rich people always have something to celebrate: birthday, business deal, car shower, even their dogs were celebrated for giving birth to puppies or getting older, it’s ridiculous. I was a stranger at the party, not the kind of crowd I would have chosen for myself. One awkward moment was when Gbenga introduced me to one of his friends. I stretched my arm to shake his hand but he opted for a hug. I was so embarrassed. Later I saw Gbenga hugging some girls and they were giggling back at him; I thought it was the norm for rich people and I’m just being the odd one. But when He kissed or maybe peck a particular girl; I wasn’t sure from the angle I saw them, it infuriated me and I refused to talk to him after that. I felt like I was his sidekick and not his girlfriend. On our way back to my hostel he kept asking me why I was moody as if he didn’t realize what he did was zina. I couldn’t hold him to any vow though; I’m not his wife yet. But I believed my position as his girlfriend is conventionally acceptable and I had a claim on him. He must learn to accord me some level of respect.

After Rahamat left for the program and Sholape had went to church; I was all by myself. I remembered father will be at home and decided to call him on the issue on ground. I didn’t think I could change his mind, but I wanted to fulfill righteousness with mother. I dialed his number and he picked up after the first ring. “Asalamualeikum!” he greeted. “Wahaleikumsalam waramotullah wabarakatu,” I replied. “How are you doing sir” I asked. “Alhamdulillah, I hope all is well, I don’t remember you calling my phone” he said. I laughed nervously. “Are you saying it’s a crime to check on my dad the way he checked on me”. He chuckled. “No it’s okay. I hope your salat is going smoothly” he asked. “Yes” I answered and quickly switched the topic. “Father I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about your relocation plan. I think it was a good idea, but I want you to consider mother. I’m not saying we should not relocate but allow her to retain her store. She has been there for long, all her customers, everyone she knew are there; a new environment means starting from scratch.” I concluded. “Did she send you to talk to me” he asked, utterly unmoved by my words. “No sir” I replied. “Okay! In case she calls you. Advice her to forget about going back to that store, if she is still interested in keeping our family together.” he said with the tone a trader would use to say last price take it or leave it. My heartbeat increased at a rapid pace, thumping in my chest like it would free itself from my rib cage. I was tongue-tied I didn’t know what to say or do. I had imagined something like this could happen, but imagination is so much different from reality. I didn’t want to be the child of a broken home; I dreaded the possibility all my life. “Are you there?” he asked. “Yes sir. That’s what I wanted to tell you.” I managed to choke out. “Alright, take care of yourself. Please don’t do anything I wouldn’t approve” he said it like he knew I was flaunting his rules. “Not at all,” I replied.“Masalam!” I didn’t wait for him to reply my greeting before cutting the call.

Fear gripped me and I started hyperventilating. After calming down a little, I rested my head on my pillow and was asleep shortly. I dreamt that father married another wife and raised a new family. I quickly stood up to perform ablution; offered two rakats like I’ve seen father did so many times. I begged Allah rubbing my two hands not to allow my family to split up. “I didn’t deserve your mercy” I said. “But if you can do me this one favour, I would offer my salat on time and be a good Muslim.”