.CHAPTER THREE
My ordeal with Miss Ego was another childhood experience I would not easily forget. It was during my primary school days when Mum used to package chocolate biscuits for us in our lunch boxes even after the usual 'Jollof' rice with fried ripe plantain and fish.
My class teacher, Miss Ego, would not let me enjoy my chocolate biscuits. She was the one that kept custody of our lunch boxes. Once Mum drove us to school, she would come and take us into the class and keep our lunch boxes till the time we would need them. She would eat up my chocolate biscuits and cleverly buy lesser quality biscuits from the street to replace it. This she did severally, but I did not complain until the day I was careless with my lunch box while eating, and my lunch box slipped out of my hands and my lunch poured on the floor. I cried like the baby that I was. The chocolate biscuits that would have sustained me had been eaten by my teacher, Miss Ego. It was so bad for her that day; she had no money to replace my biscuits which she had eaten. It was the magnitude of hunger that dealt with me that day that reminded me to report to my mother what had been transpiring. I was determined to tell Mum once I set my eyes on her. Unfortunately, it was uncle Nnamdi that came that day to take us home. Mum had some supervisors who visited their school and Dad was very busy too. I could barely wait for Mum to come home. I told her what Auntie Ego did with my chocolate biscuits every day and watched to see how she would react. She was not happy with the news at all. She would have charged at Auntie Ego if she had been there at that moment. She just told me not to worry, that she would confront her the next morning about it and make sure she reported her to the appropriate quarters to take up the matter. Mum wondered how Miss Ego could debase herself like that shamelessly. When Dad came back that evening, I reported the same incident to him. Then he called Mum to ask her if she had heard my story. "Yes o!" Mum replied Dad. "In fact, I am shocked at Miss Ego's behaviour," she said further, now frowning. " I shall see her tomorrow, and confront her about this attitude! I intend to notify the school authority as well!" Mom said matter-of-factly. Dad smiled as he patted mom's knees. "I have a better idea, my dear," he told her. Then he looked at me as he said further, "Chike, please excuse us." I then left the sitting room while he talked quietly with mum. The next thing I observed was that uncle Nnamdi was sent to buy three packets of chocolate biscuit from a departmental shop across our street. He was to leave the price tag of the items on them for a purpose. The following morning while dropping us at school, Mum handed the three packets of chocolate biscuits and a hand-written note to me to give to Miss Ego. After that day, she never ate out of my chocolate biscuits again. And I noticed that from that day, Miss Ego developed a certain kind of respect for my parents and whenever they came around to pick us from school. I guess she was very grateful for the way my parents handled the matter in a mature way, secretly and silently telling her to behave better, after all, the biscuit wasn't expensive at all; she could afford to buy it every day. No wonder when certain things cropped up at home, Mum would advice we waited till Dad returned home. When finally his black jeep honked, she would heave a sigh of relief. Your Dad is back! she would announce happily.His judgments and assessments of things were deep with wisdom like that of the ancient sage, Solomon.CHAPTER FOUR My childhood experiences were mostly blissful. Dad and Mum were around to give us the best they could afford. My father treated us as every loving father would. Every Sunday after church service at the St. Pirans Anglican Church Enugu, We would stand beside our father and watch him greet and hug his friends. Most of them were Doctors and Professors in their various fields of endeavour. I admired the way each of them comported and carried themselves with prestige and grace. Their hearty laughter and confidence really made it look like the world was really a bed of roses; devoid of problems. St. Pirans Anglican Church was known throughout the city for the calibre of men and women who worshipped there. Most of the highly-placed inhabitants of the coal city worshipped there. The Academia, the Army Generals, the Busines
CHAPTER FIVE I had just entered my second year in Medical Laboratory Science when Chimezie graduated from Banking and Finance with a second class upper grade from the University of Nigeria, Enugu. They whole family celebrated it. My mother threw a mini party. Adaobi and I came home to celebrate his graduation with our friends. We popped up champagne; we ate, drank and danced. We were all happy for him. He later went for his National Service in Edo State. He worked in a local government in the accounts department where he gave in his best. He initiated the computerized system of accounting to the local government. This was made for easy computing and accounting. Little wonder he earned the award of the best corps member that served in the local government council that year. When he finished his service, he sent out his curr
CHAPTER SIX My father, Mr Agbanusi, passed on at the young age of Fifty-five after a long battle with prostrate cancer. Dad in his usual way, did not show his emotions. He hid the ailment from us for a very long time, even from my mother, and he acted as if everything was okay.Though he was secretly seeking medical attention, he didn't want us to be thrown into any panic as all his children were at school, pursuing one academic laurel or the other in order to make him proud and also to make something meaningful with our lives. According to our Mum, Dad had thought that it was something he could easily handle on his own but as each day passed, the health issue wasn't getting better. At a point, he wanted to fly o
CHAPTER SEVEN The news of the pandemonium in northern part of Nigerian had reachedeverywhere around the country and beyond. It spread faster than a wild harmattan fire. People were being massacred by the minute. Buildings were being destroyed and properties carted away by the perpetrators of the mayhem. Churches and Schools were going up in flames of fire, private houses, edifices and monumental buildings owned by private individuals were being razed down by some over zealous ignorant youths in the name of religious and ethnic crisis. People were running helter-shelter for their lives, especially those of other regions of the country that were not northerners but were residents of the northern region. Mo
CHAPTER EIGHT When I graduated from the prestigious Nnamdi Azikiwe University, Awka in the eastern Nigeria, I was in my parents house in Enugu, waiting for my call-up letter for the compulsory National Youth Service. Enugu is a major city in the eastern region of Nigeria, popularly known as the 'Coal City'. This was because of the presence of coal mines in the city and the heavy coal mining activities there. It is a really lovely city, quiet and serene. The city is surrounded by hills just like Jerusalem. It has so many beautiful sights which I guess made the colonial masters very reluctant to leave the city even after independence. I never had the opportunity to travel to the Northern part of the country, not even to visit my late elder brother when he was alive and was working there unlike my younger sister, Adaobi, who had stayed wit
CHAPTER NINE I had a smooth journey to the orientation camp. It was a night journey. When I arrived at the Onitsha Park that evening there were my fellow Corps members everywhere; they were going to various states of the country for their National Service just like me. It was like another get together. I met most of my couresmates. It was fun seeing ourselves again. I sat beside the window in order to get a better view of the places we would pass through to get to our destination. The cool night breeze chilled my body as the vehicle zoomed past many towns and villages. The sights of the city at night was a lovely one to behold. The lights in the streets and in the various houses shone like stars in the sky. It reminded me of a childhood poem, 'Twinkle, twinkle little stars'. T
CHAPTER TEN As the scorching sun began to lose its power to the dusk and our shadows grew taller, our faces litted up with smiles because the parade for sure would come to an end with the appearance of the darkness. Every new day, deducted a day from the three weeks we had to stay in the camp. Everyone was eagerly counting the days. We could hardly wait for the last day.After the evening parade, the bugle sounded again for our dinner. Immediately after dinner, we moved to the hall where one form of entertaining event or the other would take place: It could be a live band, the NYSC band or our welcome parties, beauty contest, inter-platoon drama, dancing competitions, cooking competitions, talent hunt and so m
CHAPTER ELEVEN There was tension in the air over the posting of Corps members to the various places of their primary assignments. Many of us tried to influence their posting against the admonition and warning of the State Coordinator. Actually, no one wanted to be posted to the remote areas of the State: We all wanted the best places in the city despite how clear the State Coordinator had made it that ninety percent of the corps members would be posted to the villages where their services were mostly needed. But we all wanted to be among the ten percent that would be in the city. Better allow God, Who sent you to this region complete His job by posting you to your primary place of assignment. Dont try to influence anything because it may worsen things for you, some zealots amongst us preached.Some of us believed that the m