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Today is what they call visiting day at Unwana’s school, it occurs every last Sunday of every month. I never miss anyone, and I don't plan on missing this one. I won't lie, days like this are usually filled with mix feelings. I'm ecstatic about seeing my daughter and when the visiting day is over, and she's heading back to her dormitory, I feel heart collapse in despair.I wake up early as 5am to prepare all I will take along with me, putting in mind all the things I know my daughter will needI sit on one of the couch n my living to set aside her provision which where; one big tin of Milo and peak milk, one pack of cube sugar, one big cornflakes, golden morn, and a bottle of her favorite drink, Tasty Time blackcurrant. I found a neat nylon which was big enough to contain the seven cups of garri I turned into it, I tie the end tightly to secure the garri from pouring out and then, set it aside also. I instantly recall the bottle of roasted groundnut I bought the previous day, I rush to the dinning table to pick it up and then, set it down with the rest. Since This phase is settle, I move on to the next.I stroll into the bedroom and straight to my wardrobe, I take out a pair f neatly folded school uniform shirt, day-wear and Sunday-white which I collected from my tailor yesterday. And also, the new set underwear I bought from Agboju market, last Sunday.Unwana never stopped nagging on how her uniforms and underwear were stolen from her, Even though I'm convinced most of them were misplaced out of her carelessness, I still have to get her new ones.I take them all to the living room and arrange them inside a strong, medium-size sac with hard zip. I thought of going along with the new sandals Mrs. Adebanjo bought for her but then, I realized she will be entering a new class soon and she will need new stuff too so, I drop the sandals back into my wardrobe.I quickly rush into the kitchen that is now engulf in the sweet smell of jellof rice that I'm cooking. I take the clean hand towel that is hanging on the kitchen cabinet, using it to carefully uncover the pot and releasing the hot steam. I gently use the serving wooden spoon to give a little stir before turning off the fire.I take out two pack of Happy-hour drink, A sealed bowl of home-made cookies and another of peanuts which I baked the night before. I them all to the living room and arrange them delicately inside the bag.Unwana loves to take her food back to her dormitory I guess to eat with er friends so, I dish the rice into two small food-flasks, one that she will take to her dorm and the other one she will eat on the visiting ground. Then, I put on each flask two fried turkey before locking them tightly.I stand the food flasks in a portable bag that I will hold in my hand during the journey. Letting out a gentle sigh, I inspect the bags one last time to make sure I've put in everything. Knowing that I'm unable to prepare the pepper meat as promised bothered me, owing to having little cash left and by my calculations, I still need to set aside some pocket money for her. I plan to just tell I forgot and will make it up to herIt's 7:50am on my wall clock, I dash into my room, undress and hurry into the bath room..I had known what I would wear today in my head since yesterday it was a casual, green flowered dress made in a lightweight fabric that is soft to the skin. It is the first dress I notice hanging among the others In my wardrobe. I take it out, slip into it and adorn my pretty face with a light make-up.Before leaving the house, I glance at the clock and I'm happy i made good time. I lock the front door behind me, watching my steps as I carefully transport the heavy bag down the stairs. I usually take a tricycle going to Alakija, then I thought I should just use a bike to Navy gate instead.“Okada!” I call out, halting a commercial bike on sight.“Madam, morning oo!” He greets.“Abeg I dey go Navy gate.” I inform him in pidgin English.“Oya na, enter.” He offers, trying to collect the heavy bag from me.“No worry, I go hol’am.” I hold back the bag “How much?” I ask.“Madam na two hundred naira.” He announces.“Watin happen? All the money wey you no make since the beginning of this week, na for my head you wan make am abi? No be hundred naira una dey collect?” I inquire loudly “Something wey no far sef, I no blame you, na mumu una dey like.” I complain harshly.“Ah Madam, no be fight na, oya, enter.” He agrees finally to take me for my price “You hold change?” he asks.“Eh” I reply as I get on the bike.I must have been rude speaking to the bike man but if you don’t speak that way, they will take you for nuts, “For Lagos, everybody eye dey shuk oo so, person gaz wise up.” I voice within me.I get down from the bike at the gate and hurry through it to the barrack’s park at the gate which is situated opposite the Nigerian Navy Secondary. I take another bike to senior rate mess, there, a straight bus is made available to take us to comand secondary school at ipaja.But getting there, I realize I am the first person to arrive; I’m even earlier than the Navy wives living in the barracks whose children are in the school.******The buses are already at the mess but the drivers aren’t, yet. So, I sit on a bench in front of a closed kiosk waiting for others to arrive.Bit by bit people start to show up, many are carrying bags much heavier than mine. Some are even carrying boxes “And here I am, thinking I over packed” I laugh out a bit.“Ah, mama Unwana,” that is what we call every woman with children. We call them mama followed by the name of their first child. The name of my daughter is unwana so, I’m called mama unwana. “You done reach?” Mrs. Okolo (mama Chinelo) asks.Seeing mama Chinelo approaching me with the large bag on her head, make me burst out laughing. “Yes oo,” I reply “this one wey you carry Ghana-must-go so, nawa oo, na only Chika get am?” I ask amaze at the size of the bag which is bigger than mine. And Chika happens to be her second child after Chinelo.“My sister, you know how all this our children dey behave, you go buy one thing today, tomorrow, them go thief am finish” She complain
********CHAPTER EIGHT “No, no I can’t go Omoh, besides I have lectures to attend at GREG, I won’t have the time” I inform Omoh who is pestering me in going to her boyfriend’s get-together party at his place. I have finally enrolled at GREG for their entrepreneurship classes, a step I think will be good for me.Omoh and I are at the local market buying groceries. We tour the market, shop to shop unable to find one item on our list, unripe plantain. I plan to prepare plantain porridge this evening but I guess that craving will be postponed. Omoh suggest we buy the ripe one but I protest against it. We halt in front of a provision store when I hear my phone ring. I take out the phone from my purse and found on the screen, Ubong’s number.“It’s him again, isn’t it?” Omoh asks looking at me. I told Omoh everything about I encountered during my interview with Mrs. Ruth. I remember how hard I cried while narrating.. she did her best to console me and encouraged me to forget about him but,
*****First day at GREG school of entrepreneurship isn’t that bad, everyone here are so nice beyond my expectation. I thought it would be hard to blend in but I thought wrong.GREG school has different department and each of the department has their different uniform color they put on. For instance, the fashion designing department put on the color red, cosmetics department put on purple, catering department which happens to be the department I enrolled in, put on yellow, event planning department put on royal blue, and so on.Locating my department isn’t that difficult from the color diversity. I walk into the building with a big sign board on top of it and a tall yellow flag hanging on the side, signifying the catering department. Seeing other student wearing the same color as me, I follow them up the stairs into a very large hall, having it interior painted white with wide, brown, formica tables arranged in three rows, from the entrance all the way to the back. On each of the tabl
*******I step out the car with Omoh, walking to the threshold of Uche, Omoh's boyfriend's house; I can’t help but notice the big cars parking in his drive way. I literally know nothing about cars except being a vessel on four wheels that can move on fuel. So telling the kind or names of each of them will be mission impossible, talk less of identifying the most expensive amongst them. “Uche’s friends must be very rich” I say to my friend.“Most of them are but most importantly, I want you to have fun.” Omoh walks forward and holds the doorknob. She is about twisting it open but halt when she sees me fighting with my dress.On my beautiful, figure eight body is a shimmering, midnight black dress that stops way above my knees. The fitness of it highlights my every curve from my fully round, moderate sized boobs to my slim waist and obvious hips. Mated with it is a pair of silver heels forced on my feet by Omoh. I'm aware of how sexy I look tonight and it makes me a little bit uncomfor
******WALE POVI can swear she looks familiar. From the moment I set my eyes on her walking through the front door with her friend, the host's girlfriend, my brain went numb and my eyes blind to all the ladies flooding my space. I try my best to not make my stare obvious but her beauty just makes it impossible. I initially refused my cousin's invitation to his friends party. He said all he wanted was to mingle and I never believe it's possible to find genuine love at a party. That's me, a serious minded, Yoruba guy and a complete package of TDH, tall, dark and handsome. It's been a while since my last break up and, I just want to pause on any new relationship. I eventually agree to join my cousin to the party. Not that he made any effort to persuade me to join him, but because a lady, whom a friend tried to pair me up with, was determined on coming over and I don't want to see her at all.I met the girl once on a date, she was ok it terms on beauty, but every man has their own tast
****ENO POV“Excuse me, every one. Can I get your attention, please” Uche announces from the center of the living room I tap Omoh's shoulders, signaling her to listen.“I’m so happy you all made out time to be here this evening and most of all, I’m delighted that you all are about to witness something I’ve been planning to do for the past three months—”I raise my eyebrows on top of a wide smile at my clueless friend who stared at her boyfriend without words “What is he talking about?” I ask.“I have no idea.” she replies, shaking her head.“Heartbeat, come please” We hear Uche call to my friend who walks like a robot towards him while the crowd cheers for her.He holds her hands, smiling and ogling lovingly into her eyes. And just before we know it, Uche goes down on one knee. My heart flutters as if I was the one being proposed too. What a lovely experience and I feel nothing but pure happiness for my best friend.“I didn’t realize how empty my world was until you walked into it f
******"“One way or another we’ve heard that the secret of becoming healthy is to acquire a 10% rest, 10% exercise and 30% diet. Now the question is what is diet? Diet is anything we eat but we have an unbalance diet and a balance diet. We have been taught since primary school that balance diet is eating all the classes of food in the right proportion. Right?” Mrs.Lawal, lecturer on DIET 101 ask the student sitting in front of her.“Right.” The class chorus.“Hey, hey” Jude hits me lightly, waking me from my attempt on sleeping.“Yeah, I’m awake. What did I miss?” i ask, whispering.I can hear him chuckle under his breath “Nothing much, just the definition of diet.” He whispers back, looking at the lecturer “I guess you didn’t get much sleep last night.” “No but I promise, no more sleeping off in class.” I smile. I woke up so tired and lazy this morning. Uche's party last night took all strength from me, coupled with Ubong demands to meet with me.“— and according to the United State
*****“Miss. Eno Ekanem.” Miss. Adeyemi Rotimi smith, the H.O.D, calls, opening a file as she flips the paper inside it “I can see in the next of kin column in your file, you filled a female name, Unwana Ekanem. Is she your daughter or your sister? Judging by your tittle, Miss, I have to ask” she says, looking to get a response from me.“She’s my daughter Ma and I was never married. I was supposed to marry her father but circumstances did not permit.” I briefly explain the little confusion on my file.“Ok, I wanted to be sure before signing. How old is your daughter? She asks again.“She’s thirteen.” I reply“Wow, and you still look this beautiful? Taking care of a thirteen years old girl all by yourself?” I can tell her question is rhetorically then I smile “If I may ask, are you sure you can cope with this course and still look after your daughter? I mean, you are aware this is a practical course?” she points.“My daughter is in a boarding school, this gives me a lot of time to focu