On Who Your Neighbor Is And Inaction

One fine morning in December, with the glaring winter sun in full view, a man walked to work. The day before had been particularly hard, and he struggled to find any reason to show up today. But he decided to go anyway. He walked his usual route with the confidence that comes with routine, paying no mind to his surrounding. He was used to the silence that plagued the road because of how early in the day he walked. He would normally walk on the sidewalk, brushing off long branches from the trees. Today was no different. As he walked, the cool winter breeze made the branches sway back and forth. He thought about his life and how far from achieving his dreams he was when a loud jump interrupted his reverie.

The Apprentice

"Tade, I made some Yam with egg sauce. Will you like to take some with you?" Mrs. Phillips asks as she opens the door to her daughter's bedroom. Her voice wakes her daughter.

"Mom...no thanks." She adjusts her blanket, rolls to the other side of her bed to continue with her sleep. She senses her Mom's presence, and realizes she's still at the door. She looks up, "You know how much I hate eating from a food-flask. Besides, I love my eating my meals really hot. So, no again. But thanks, Mom." This time she covers her face with her red and brown blanket. She has an emotional attachment to this blanket. She has had it for ten years now and plans on keeping it for much longer.

"Ok then. You're going to have to sort yourself darling." Her mom replies softly.

It's still 6:45am. The cloudy skies tell just how cold the morning is. The air conditioner in Tade's room isn't exactly helping matters.

"The Reluctant American"...

...This was the title of the review of Americanah on The Wall Street Journal. It was quite an interesting review of the book. http://t.co/hfYAANyVqF I recently read the book (thanks Sissy poo for the free books :D) and...First and foremost, it was an interesting read. I had a great time reading it. The major character, Ifemelu was a girl many girls could identify with. At least with one thing about her. There was where she told her Mum about her friend and the Mum automatically assumed the said friend was a 'she' when she was actually talking about a male friend. LOL. I could relate with that.  Moving on. I felt like there were so many characters and it became a chore to catch up with some of  them. Sometimes along the book, a name would be mentioned and I would have to actually pause to recollect who the character was.

The weird thing about the book was that at a point, you would think Ifemelu-the main character- was the author of the book. It didn't help that everybody but Ifemelu was put down somehow, while Ifemelu seemed like a perfect woman. I think Chimamanda had a hard time separating her feelings from Ifemelu's so somewhere along the line you were bound to think Chimamanda was doing the talking or maybe you were caught in the web of both of them. It didn't help that Chimamanda has so much in common with Ifemelu; they both left their Universities in Nigeria to start afresh in the United States, both schooled in Philadephia, both of them have natural hair and share a common hatred for relaxers. I wondered why someone would hate relaxers so much and in fact paused my reading to tweet about it. Someone replied me, "I think she used Ifemelu to abundantly register her own reservations"

Alice.

She was awoken because of a loud, shrilling noise from her sister. She wondered when or if it was going to ever stop; the constant nightmares and the trembling. Everything had become such a burden. She never thought things would ever get this difficult, she probably knew but just never thought about it. She sort of regretted ever accepting responsibility even though she had to. She didn't have much of a choice and certainly didn't want to abandon her sister. But this had become too much of a chore. She thought about quitting, but that would only make things worse. She turned her face to her right side to calm her now terrified sister.

Alice had been saddled with the responsibility of taking care of her sister. Actually, she made the choice herself. It was a hard thing to do, but it was also the responsible thing to do. Or at least, that was what she thought. She struggled to make ends meets by working two menial jobs. The pay from both jobs was enough to feed them and provide them a place to sleep. As far as she knew, her only family was her sister, who had now become her responsibility. In six days, she would be nineteen. It had been a rough nineteen years and a tumultuous one. It had been one she never would have wished her worst enemy. She had to drop out of secondary school, not like she was still interested in education anyway. At least, now she had an excuse; there was no way she could afford both her and her sister's education. Even though, there was free education in Lagos, there were no free books, or free lunch or free house. Either way, one person had to make the sacrifice. As far as she knew, education just wasn't for her and like every other aspect of her life, it had become too much difficulty. She was more than happy to quit. Somehow, she would get by. After all, some people did get by even with being half-educated.

You Were My Fave, Olu.

I stood quietly that rainy morning by the roadside. I, together with some other random people sought refuge from the rain under some iron roof-sheets which was normally a stall for a boli seller. My mind drifted away from the moment. I thought of you,  Olu and the last time we saw. I assumed you would be somewhere now, wherever. I was still very angry wit you. How could you? After all your promises,  how could you have given in so easily? I thought you were strong. Well, you were. If appearances weren't so deceitful. Your 6"1 frame, your very baritone tone, you hardly missed your gym sessions and it paid off anyway. I always teased you about your looks and how I saw the envy in other women's eyes when they saw me with you, our hands interlocked, probably strolling to the nearest food vendor to grab lunch or dinner or probably to just hang around to kill time. You were my fave, Olu.

It started that Easter Monday when you casually told me about a cough. You seemed to make a big deal out of it when you told me it was an unusual type of cough.

"Ehn, are you the first person to have cough ni?" I laughed out loudly over the phone.

Nobody made me laugh like you did. Your sense of humor was over the top. You disappointed me though, a whole lot. I didn't expect that, certainly not from you. It was all too sudden. In spite of that, you were my fave, Olu.

When, after a whole week, I heard nothing from you, I dashed down to your house to give you a piece of my mind. I had deliberately not pinged you on BBM or called. I was too angry with you for not bothering to call me or text me when you knew so well about my exam in the carry-over course. When I had unexpectedly seen that 'F' on the boards the previous year and wept my eyes out, you begged me and encouraged me to shake it off. You even said you would stand by me all the step of the way, all I had to do was decide to tackle the course heads-on a second time. When on the exam day and even after, I heard nothing from you, I was furious. I had planned to spit fire and insult you for breaking your promise, something you hardly ever did. Imagine my shock when I saw you on the couch at your parents' home about 40kg less than your initial weight. I wanted to walk pass that stranger on the couch to go to your bedroom, when I heard my name from this stranger. I could never miss your voice, even if one thousand persons were screaming at the same time. I knew your distinct voice and much more about you because you were my fave, Olu.

"Oh My God! What happened Olu? Olu, what happened? What?" I screamed at the top of my voice.

I screamed because that person I was seeing couldn't be you. No, it was too terrible to be you. You looked sunken; your eyes were sunken and lifeless, your cheeks were hollow. You looked like something had sucked a huge part of you. Your ribs were so obvious, like they would pop out of your flesh anytime soon. Your skin looked bruised sort of, and you my sunshine and best companion, you were the scariest thing I had ever set my eyes on. Aunty Laide came out. She sighed and said you were too weak to engage in any long discourse. She explained that the cough had taken an unexpected turn. The same cough I had laughed about. The same cough you complained about when I thought you were being petty. Aunty Laide said by the evening of Easter Monday, when you coughed, you felt like a tug of war was going on inside of you. She said you felt like something was burning and even with that, they all didn't take you seriously enough to get you medical attention. My jaw dropped and tears were pouring down from my eyes. It was not what she said that made me cry, no. It was your sight that did. Little did I know that the worst was yet to come.

"But why is he here, why is he home and not in the hospital?"

"We took him to the hospital o on Tuesday, they said it's an infection. He has been given some drugs. He is even much better now. He just needs some rest."

I didn't understand. What was  before me didn't seem like someone who was much better. How could this being before me be much better? There was nothing much to say. Your Mum already explained that you saw a doctor and I couldn't possibly be more concerned than she was, right? I doubt that now, because my instincts told me it could not have been a mere infection. What hurt me the most was that I was helpless. True to what Aunty Laide said though, by evening that day, you were very much better. We talked about my exam and some other things. I teased you about the importance of my presence in your life and how seeing me was really the only drug you needed. You laughed. But it was a different kind of laugh. It lacked vigor and life and the type of humor you always brought to a gathering. It was empty. I told you that evening that you were my fave, Olu.

It was 9pm and you told me to leave because it was getting really late. I bade you goodbye, gave you a hug and left hurriedly. Omolara's call woke me up the next morning. She said you never woke up. It was the most devastating news and phone call of my life.

No way, I saw him last night. He was really better. How can? How? What is his plan and how does he expect me to go on in this cruel life without him, without his calls, without his raucous laughter and without his endless support?

Those were few of the questions I asked myself  the following days. I became angry. Angry with Olu. Angry with God. Angry with this world. How could everything, my whole world just come crashing in the flash of a light. The twenty four years we knew each other was not enough. It could never have been.

"Yaba, Yaba, Jibowu, Yaba." The noise from a bus conductor and the struggle of two men beside me to catch the bus jolted me back to reality. I checked my watch, I had been standing there for 28 minutes. The rain had now stopped and the boli seller needed to get started for the day. It had been a year Olu since you left abruptly. One whole year  had gone by just like that. You were my best cousin ever. You were my best friend ever. You were my best companion ever. You were my fave, Olu.

I walked across the road, to get a bus. I was running late.