SURVIVOR SERIES PART4_Last days in secondary school (1)

 The picture above was me at about the age of two, probably around the time baba picked me up from my parents house and brought me into the "fire house",(if you'll agree with me calling it that). I actually had to sit down to analyze the irony of that picture. If my mother had known her daughter was to grow up to choose to become an "SU" (which of course doesn't mean 'Student union' in this context), I'm sure she wouldnt have adorned my ears, wrists and neck with all that jewelry. Maybe if children could and we're allowed to speak their minds I could've spoken and protested against it. 

I never found out the full meaning of "SU" and even now I still do not know why those two letters were used to describe girls who didn't use jewelry, or make up and usually tied a scarf, we were "natural" in every sense including our hair. Unlike the self acclaimed "natural hair gang" of this century, we didn't use "hair products" and DIY to treat our hair. All we knew was ori oyo. Most of us were either very committed members of the Deeper life church or very staunch Muslims. 

I recall a particular boy in my SSS3 class who delighted in pestering we "SU" girls. Every morning, after assembly, he would rush ahead of the class line to ambush us girls-and I mean ambush in every sense. It was worse for the Muslim SU girls, he asked everyone one of us to shake him else we couldn't enter our own class. Who were we to stop him, he was a boy after all and you were supposed to pray for your enemies -though I believe the Muslim girls uttered some curses under their breaths- but it wouldnt deter him. It was either a handshake or don't enter. We Christians didn't mind the handshake that much, as it is, one handshake couldn't make you unholy so, we just shook him and laughed while our Muslim counterparts argued and tried to get their way. 

   Being an SU meant I was part of the school fellowship and I wasn't just a member, I became the vice president of my fellowship in my last year of secondary school. I actively involved myself in spreading the word and bringing light to students. It was a joy for me, I didn't have a family at the place I called home, but at least I was part of a church family. But there was one other problem, I couldn't balance fellowship, school and mummy rekia's shop, so I quit the shop. I realized I was a science student after all and even though I was smart, I needed to study hard else the sciences were going to remain a blur to me. I couldn't afford extra lessons, but I stayed back in school after fellowship to read with my closest friends from the fellowship. 

One of my friends was sister Nimota. We were so close that even though she came from a Muslim family, I went to her house often. It was a miracle she got converted in the first place. Her family were against her new found faith, but sister Nimota wouldn't back down, she was fervent and always read to bring new souls to the house of God. All that ended soon enough though.

 One time, very close to our final exams, sister Nimota stopped coming to school. I went to her house to check on her. Behold! Sister Nimota was adorned in a hijab. I was shocked! I sat to talk with her for a few minutes and she explained to me how lost she had been by "falling into Christianity" told me it was all a phase of confusion and she had decided to go back to the faith she was born into. She said she was to be married to an Alfa soon, this made me want to shed tears. The tears were not only for her getting married so early and missing out on a great education but also for the fact that no meals were going to come from sister Nimota's house again, I was going to continue starving... again! 

See, as soon as I quit mummy rekia's shop, the frequent Akara and yam supply wasn't available anymore, I relied mostly on my fellowship members and my cousins for meals. It wasn't easy but I didn't want to be pitied and seen as "poor" in school so I never really told anyone about what I faced at home. 

But as God would have it, I met sister Rachel. God had once again honoured his words. Sister Rachel lived close to my house, on my way to school I dropped by her house most mornings to have breakfast. She would wait for me so we could eat breakfast together.

 I wasn’t a child who ate much, my stomach never had much depth and after about five morsels of eba, usually I was filled. If I ate even one morsel more my stomach protested. At parties, when served rice and drink, I usually was able to take only one-the drink or the rice- not both at a Time. Obviously, I picked the drink, I mean when next would I get to take a bottle of fanta.

-Art by laolu

There were the Christmas days,when every child looked forward to eating Christmas chicken and  a bottle of fanta. Mama of course wouldn't give me that liberty,  she could wake up and decide it was eba instead and not rice.  I didn't even yearn for fried rice or jorof. I'll have been satisfied with just plain white rice, but I guess there are various ways to take carbohydrates.