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Thirteen
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Cold Stone Fourteen
JIDEKevin had made an urgent assembly this morning. We stood in the courtyard, watching him pace in front of the assembly for over ten minutes. Ivory was some distance away from him, glaring at everyone. "I am highly disappointed in every one of you," he bellowed, digging his feet into the ground to keep him from pacing any further. "Fourteen years of being the manager here and I have never...NEVER... gotten any case of theft and bullying. What changed now?"He paused before continuing. "I know a lot of us here have some form of grievances towards Miss Stone," he gave me a pointed look. "But it does not give anyone the right to treat her less.""She needs to feel less now she is here," a Namibian girl quietly snickered and her friends joined in. "If you are in possession of Miss Stone's emerald trinkets..." there was a collection of gasps at the mention of 'emerald'. "...do well to return them or you all are going to face the consequences. And it would not be funny."I heard everyo
Cold Stone Fifteen
JIDEI waited for Ivory in the apple orchard, a very far distance behind the male hostel. It was quite chilly, even though I wore tons of warm clothing. I missed Nigeria. I had gotten so used to our warm climate that surviving here in the first few weeks of my arrival was hell. And though I had spent seven years in the United Kingdom, I had not fully adapted yet. I looked up into the darkness when I heard the crunching of gravel. It was lights out and no one was supposed to be out of bed. I shuddered a bit when I pictured Kevin walking up the path here and find me. There was punishment for not heeding to instructions. My mind raced for excuses to give. I heaved a sigh when I saw Ivory treading the path, a confused expression etched on her face. I was quite sure she had not been to this side of the farm yet. She looked quite good in her pink furry jacket, knee length blue shorts and knee length blue boots. Her long blond hair was tied back in a tight ponytail and her face was death
Cold Stone Sixteen
I felt light-headed as I, Jide and Makena rode back to the farm. We basked in the comfortable silence that enveloped us. Arriving at one forty seven am, I had changed into my pyjamas to rest my head for a few seconds when I heard the wake-up bell. I woke to the slight tap on my shoulder. "Wake up, sleepy head," I heard Makena's teasing voice. I blinked at her, surprised that she smiled at me. Or was that her doppelganger smiling at me?I followed her into the bathroom and soon we were on our way to morning duties. I had corn duties while Makena had rabbit duties. The corn farm was a vast field filled with tall green stalks. We were to harvest them as I was told. I ventured into the farm and everyone greeted me happily. I was awestruck. What must have happened?"Nrowee! I will lead you to your portion," a young man told me. I did not understand the first word but I walked behind him. "What did you say? The first word, I mean." I enquired. "Come-on. It is Makhuwa. A native langua
Cold Stone Seventeen
The next day, Cassidy had called to give me info on the new buildings she could get ahold of. I requested that she sent it to my mail. After the day's work and a meal of sadza, I sat in the porch of the hostel building, smoking and watching the dark sky dotted with bright stars. The moon shone at a distance, illuminating the courtyard. "I have never seen a woman who enjoy smoking this much," Jide invaded my thoughts. I butted the end of my cigarette stick and replaced it between my lips. Jide shoved it out of my mouth and crumbled it in his palms. I watched him in wonder. How could he do that when it was still lighted?"Can you let me enjoy my stick? This helps me relax," I told him. He bent his head at an odd angle and questioned me. "I thought painting helped you relax?""I stopped doing that three years ago. Grandma thought it was a waste of time. But she did not have issues with my smoking," I shrugged. "Who does that? Complain about painting but not smoking," he boomed. "Ca
Cold Stone Eighteen
Why were my palms sweating? Why were my limbs weaker? Why was I so nervous? I was not meeting up with her; Detective Michelle was. I could not bring myself to sleep after that call. I kept turning on the thin bed, yet no position seemed comfortable for me. I quickly lit a cigar to relax. Had she changed in any way? Was she more prettier now or had age dealt mercilessly with her? Would she remember who I was if she saw me? I had a feeling she would; I was her replica, I only had Father's blonde hair. I let my hand trail down my hair and brought its end to my nose. The apple scented shampoo I used tingled my nose. I breathed out and took a drag from my cigar. I had nothing to worry about, I would not meet her ever. Hours passed by and I could not sleep a wink. When the morning bell went, I had finished one and a half pack of cigar. If I was home, I would have had a bottle of whiskey. I trudged out of bed and did my morning duties before going for breakfast. "What happened to you?
Cold Stone Nineteen
JIDEI awoke to the ringing of my cellphone. I jolted awake when I tapped on the answer button and heard Mama's voice. "Nwa m(my child)," she said in Igbo. "Mama, how...why...? You should have waited till I called you. How much do you have to waste on call cards to reach me in the United Kingdom?" I reprimanded her. I heard her sniffle. Had she been crying?"Oh. So you knew all those and you have refused to call me, Jidechukwu," she sniffled again. My heart clenched at the break in her voice. She had been crying. "Mama, I never forgot you. I think about you all the time and pray for you too. You know it is not easy to make money over here," I tried to placate."If making money is going to stop me from hearing your voice, then do not make it. Kwụsị (stop). I miss you dearly, Jidechukwu," she cried. I sat up from my bed, the foam and woods groaning from the impact. "Mama, kwụsị biko(stop please). You are breaking my heart," I pleaded. "When are you coming home? It has been seven
Cold Stone Twenty
Jide had sat me out of today's farm duties and I spent my time painting away. I had painted the best memory I had since I got here- last night. I highlighted the bonfire and the logs around, the people sitted and the dancers whose waist beads danced to the rhythm of the music. And me in the middle of it all, dancing goofily. I smiled at the painting when I had finished and let it dry. I was admiring my work when I heard the door creak open."Stunning," I heard Jide breath out behind me. I blushed and covered my warm cheeks with my cold palms. "Thank you," I choked out. He was standing beside me now and looked down at me smiling. "You know what else could go with our restaurant and make some bucks?"I gave an uncertain smile and shook my head. "Your painting. I am sure people would love to buy it and you could make money from it," he said. "I am a billionaire, Jide. I do not need extra cash." I chuckled heartily and bounced on my feet. "But you have given a wonderful solution. Ev
Cold Stone Twenty One
I swayed my head and shoulders slowly to Smile by Simi playing softly through my ear pods while I worked the paintbrush against the white canvas. I had finished my day's work much more earlier than usual and hurried away into the painting room. My paintbrush splayed across the canvass, my creation taking its form. I had no idea what I was painting, but there was this image that constantly nagged my mind. My apron was a splash of different colours; some had managed to get to my shorts and sneakers. Focusing my attention on the art taking form before me, I let the music sooth my nerves, making everything smooth. I found Simi's voice captivating and refreshing. The music was interrupted by my phone's ringtone and I picked up when I saw Aunt Joan on the caller ID. "Aunt Joan," I called excitedly, dropping my palette with the paintbrush on a high stool.I imagined her surprised face, "Well, someone is glad to hear from me."I giggled, "How have you been?" "I have been alright. I mis
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