The triumph of the water lily



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Norman Takes Me Home

It was the weekend after Laide's wedding that Nkem paid me a


surprise visit. I had heard a car pull up downstairs in the driveway, but
I didn't look out of my window because I wasn't expecting anyone. I
had planned to have a very quiet weekend, just resting and completely
indulging myself, by reading and watching television in my bedroom.

Wanita, who was doing some ironing downstairs, let whoever it was


in. For a moment I thought I had heard Nkem's voice and then decided
I had imagined doing so. However, Wanita soon came upstairs and
confirmed that Nkem was actually downstairs. I quickly wrapped a cloth
around my flimsy nightgown and went down to meet her.

"Well, well, well! Isn't this a surprise." I said softly, as I hugged her


close. She appeared to have been preoccupied with her thoughts, as she
sat waiting for me and was slightly startled, as I came up behind her
talking.

"Yes Effua, I know this is a surprise, but I really had to see you,"


she said, with a quiet smile. Wanita came into the room at that moment
to continue with her ironing and I quickly introduced the two to each
other. I then took Nkem up to my bedroom and as we went upstairs, she
inquired after Laide and Yele. I explained that Laide's wedding had taken
place only the weekend before and that Yele was spending the weekend
with her parents.

"I'm travelling to Britain tonight with Odili, Nkem announced


unceremoniously, as she took a seat by the dressing table.

"What is happening?" I asked rather taken aback.

"Comfort miscarried and is blaming Odili for it. She has accused him
of neglect and a non-appreciation of all she has done for him. She has
promised to make life really hellish for him and she is actually living up
to every one of her threats! I can't just stand by, watching her strip Odili
of every vestige of his dignity. It's unbelievably dreadful - the type of
emotional trauma she is putting Odili through right now. I've decided to
step in and take him away with me for a while. At least until this storm
blows over. She has embarrassed him both publicly and privately by

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her accusations. I know she'll be coming for me next. Effua, you just
can't imagine what she has been like! And to think she was to have been
the mother of his child!" Nkem grew silent and simply gazed into the
distance, lost in her private thoughts again. My heart went out to her as I
watched all the pain, anguish and upsets of the recent weeks, etched out
on her lovely face. She looked so forlorn in a heart rending sort of way. I
went up to sit by her and gently put my arms round her shoulders.

"Never mind Nkem, you'll weather this storm too. Everything will


be fine in the end," I gently consoled. She simply shook her head then
shrugged.

"I guess we never choose the kind of cross we bear in this life, at least


not consciously. I am also certain that God must be confident that we can
bear whatever shape or form our cross takes, otherwise he wouldn't allow
us to be burdened by it." I just sat there listening in sympathetic silence,
as Nkem's face clouded over for a fleeting moment and she desperately
fought for control. It was obvious she was keeping a tight grip on her
emotions. She just couldn't afford the luxury of breaking clown - as she
had to be strong for both herself and Odili. I was confident that she was
as usual, taking the best step possible to remedy the situation and would
characteristically pull through. She rested in the circle of my arms for a
few moments and seemed to have derived some comfort from talking
to me. She sat up straight, as her wrist-watch made a buzzing sound to
indicate a new hour.

"I'll write you a letter as soon as we're settled in London," she


promised, as she got to her feet.

"You just take good care of yourself," I answered, softly.

"I do hope nobody else knows you are travelling out tonight?" I
asked, as we went downstairs.

"No, we kept it as quiet as we possibly could. The only person who


knows about it apart from yourself is Odili's business partner, who
lives just a few streets away from you. Did you know that?" she asked
with interest, as we stood beside her car outside (it was actually Odili's
Mercedes Benz car and looked just as impressive as it had when he had
first bought it, just about two years before). It was a lovely deep olive-
green colour and Odili's regular chauffeur (Sultan, as he was fondly
called by everyone, both in Nkem and Odili's households), bowed as
he greeted me, with a cheery good morning and held the door open for
Nkem. She got in and we continued chatting for a few more minutes.

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"What is the name of this Odili's associate by the way?" I asked with
interest. "I just might know him if he lives that close."

"I very much doubt it," she answered with a smile.

'He is a Greek-Cypriot you see, and the name is lvan-Dimitrious,"

she explained.

"Wait a minute! I do believe I have seen a signpost bearing that name
around here. In fact, I've driven past the house a couple of times with
Yele and we've often wondered whether or not the house belonged to a
Nigerian," I said, as I fully recollected the house in question and rather
pleased, that my curiosity about the quaint house with the intriguing
architectural design had at last been satisfied.

"He's been with Odili for several years now and his wife is such


a delightful and motherly person. Look Effua, we really ought to
start returning to Lagos. I told Odili to expect me back by noon," she
explained softly. I leaned over and kissed her on both cheeks.

"Do take care of yourself," I said, smiling as she increased the


pressure of her hold on my hand for a moment.

"I'll write you as soon as I can," she again assured me and then


indicated to the driver to drive on. Sultan revved up the engine of the
car. I stood there waving at her, as the vehicle gathered speed and then
disappeared into the distance.

Two weeks after Nkem's visit, Norman and I paid the much promised


visit to his father in Port-Harcourt. We went in the company of both Lady
Delilah and a much excited Nneka. Nneka had only just received her 'A'
level results and was much thrilled to learn that she had performed so very
well. As if that wasn't enough cause for celebration, she had received a
written confirmation of a place at the University of Lagos College of
Medicine. The letter stated that she had been given a place at the School
of Dentistry for a five-year degree programme in dentistry. Some of
Nneka's friends hadn't been this lucky and Norman was understandably
relieved and extremely proud of his niece. As for Nneka herself she was
over the moon and had almost knocked me over, as she threw herself
into my arms and broke the news to me. I was truly delighted. Nneka had
really worked hard and had richly deserved to pass.

Lady Delilah's presence in the Range Rover just a few paces behind


me did not bother me at all. I had come to like the dog and served her
a portion of my snack, which Nneka had so generously packed for the

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journey. The delightful sausage rolls, queen-cakes and cold lemon drink
only served to make the journey that much nicer. Norman's powerful
vehicle travelled with ease and well before dusk, we had arrived at the
outskirts of Port-Harcourt.

A further forty-five minutes drive brought us to a small estate, which


was marked as the private property of Norman's father. It was a pristine
and beautiful estate with plenty of land around it. I was slightly awed by it.
Neither Norman nor Nneka had told me anything about an estate. I pulled
myself together though as we approached the high gates leading up to the
main residence itself. We had driven along an excellent concrete route,
which ran through the estate and which was exotically lined by dwarf
palms on either side of it. The gate man, who was obviously well known
to both Nneka and Norman, gave a mock salute, as he let us through. He
also gave a cheery response to Lady Delilah's friendly barks.

The house soon came into sight; it was a sprawling white house,


sitting right in the middle of a lovely profusion of Bougainvillea plants.
The architecture was both North African and Mediterranean in style. It
was truly alluring. It was the kind of house in which both animal and
human beings felt welcome and happy and, as if to prove me right,
two thoroughbred Labradors came bounding up to us from the side of
the house, to give us a cheery welcome. I was slightly overawed by
the presence of so many canine friends all at the same time! Norman,
guessing how I felt, put an arm around me reassuringly. After much of
the excitement had died down, he introduced me to the two remarkably
good-looking dogs and finally to the matronly female housekeeper, who
had rushed out of the house after the dogs in great excitement to welcome
us. She and Nneka had warmly embraced each other and although she
showed some restraint when she greeted Norman, her welcome to him
was just as warm and hearty. Her youngest son, a gangly male youth
of about sixteen, came up behind her and helped us with the luggage.
Norman still had his arm reassuringly around me, as he led me into the
house, closely followed by the three dogs and the excitedly chattering,
Mama Ebiye (as the woman was called) and Nneka. Ebiye himself
brought up the rear and the three went upstairs with the luggage, whilst
Norman led me through to a resplendent looking room, where his father
sat talking on the phone. Norman's father was obviously a tall, imposing
man, even from his sitting position. He had gone grey at the temples and
was endowed with the same male attractiveness his son had. Age had

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also given him a quiet dignity and genial disposition which immediately
put me at ease. He was just finishing on the phone when we came in
and rose to his full height as we approached him. Nneka also rejoined
us at that moment and gave a whoop! of delight, as she was swept into
her grandfather's strong arms. I stood by, watching with amusement, as
Nneka happily revelled in the excitement of seeing her much beloved
grandfather again.

"I am brimming full of rapture Grandpa," the young girl replied, in


response to her grand fathers enquiry about her well being.

"And I've got great news for you," she added, with breathless


excitement.

"Have you?" he answered, with a quizzical smile and the same


inflection of the tone, which Norman would have used. Watching Nneka
and her grandfather, it was easy to see where Norman had got his grace
and charm from. The elderly man listened with interest to Nneka's rapid
chatter and smiled, as he walked over to where I was standing and put
his other arm around me.

"And who is this lovely person?" he asked, turning his full gaze and


benign attention on me.

"She is a gem, which we've just found Grandpa and we've brought


her home to give her a good time and to show her off to you and Mama
Ebiye," Nneka volunteered happily.

"Dad, her name is Effua," Norman introduced quietly, with a smile, as


he handed out drinks to myself, Nneka and then his father.

"Good-evening sir," I greeted with a smile.

He however ignored the hand I had awkwardly proffered in handshake
and drew me close for a friendly and kind hug.

"Everyone gets a hug from me the first time they arrive," he said.

"How come you haven't brought her here all this time, Norman?"
he asked, as he led Nneka and I towards the dining area of the sitting
room.

"Partly because she is a rather busy person and partly because she


needed to be persuaded," Norman explained, with a quiet smile, as he
brought up the rear.

Norman's father chuckled at that, as he took his seat at the head of


the table.

"I know Norman could be a bully at times my dear child, I do hope he


didn't pester or browbeat you into coming. I wouldn't put it past him to

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hold a stick over you, as he coerced you into the car!"

We all laughed at the idea of Norman chasing me around his vehicle


with a stick.

"No he didn't have to do that Grandpa," Nneka volunteered. "All we


did was to promise her plenty of sunshine and the best barbecued meal
in Port Harcourt."

"Then we must ensure that we keep that promise," he remarked


kindly, as he filled my glass with some table wine.

The meal was a warm and lovely one and had been laid out with a


precise anticipation of when we would arrive. The dining area was just as
warmly resplendent as the rest of the room; it was on a slightly elevated
and terraced portion of the room. A lovely orange lamp shade hung down
low from the ceiling and emitted a golden hue around the table and its
diners. This golden glow created a rather romantic silhouette around the
rest of the dining place.

The news of Nneka's excellent 'A' Level results, only added more


cheer to an already warm and relaxed supper. Her grand-father was
obviously elated by the news.

After supper Nneka and I went over to Mama Ebiye's apartment in


the 'foreman's quarters' (as the place was called), to say hello to the
woman and her family. I understood Mama Ebiye's husband was actually
the foreman in charge of the small farm holding, which Norman's father
ran there in Port-Harcourt. The farm was in fact situated on the estate
and you could see it from the steps of the kitchen (green rows of growing
corn, fruits and vegetables adorned the even expanse of land in the
distance). A row of wooden structures (which Nneka described as the
chicken and turkey coops), lent a picturesque atmosphere to the green
fields in that tropical evening twilight.

Mama Ebiye and her husband were a warm, elderly couple and I


gathered from Nneka that they had been in her grandfather's employ
for well over twenty years. Ebiye was their youngest child and had been
born on the estate; his elder sisters had all married and left home. The
couple were watching television when we arrived.

I was introduced to Ebiye's father by Nneka and then took a seat. I sat


admiring the couple's neat apartment, as Nneka chatted with them. Our
hostess soon offered me some refreshment. I declined the slices of cake
and fried fish she offered me, but agreed to share a bottle of Coca Cola
with Nneka.

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Nneka enquired after Ebiye and his mother explained that he had only
just left to pay his grandmother a visit. It was obvious that the couple
and Nneka had a mutual affection for each other and when she told them
about her success in her 'A' level exam, Mama Ebiye had her on her
knees within an instant! The delight and goodwill of the couple (who
had themselves been blessed with a crop of successful and well educated
children) was obvious.

I made polite conversation with Ebiye's father about our journey and


my first impressions about Port-Harcourt. I had explained to him that
this was my first real visit to the city since I was a child. I told him that
my memories of the city before the war were pleasant ones albeit faint
and outdated. I explained I was eager to recapture those memories and
probably update them .

Meanwhile, Nneka engaged in animated conversation with our


hostess: she caught up with farm news, local news and domestic news.
She also filled the elderly woman in on all that she had been doing whilst
she had been away from home.

We left the couple just as the national network news was about to


begin on television. Norman and his father had remained at the dining
table discussing the farm and the way it was running when we left. They
had retired to the sitting room to watch the news broadcast. I joined
them there, whilst Nneka, who very much appeared to be mistress of the
place, served us some hot beverages: cocoa for Norman and I and a mug
of Horlicks for her grandfather. The young lady knew exactly how her
'Grandpa' wanted his drink and where everything was around the house.
She left us to take a bath upstairs after serving the beverage.

Norman, surprised me by coming to sit close beside me on the sofa


when the news was over. I was positively embarrassed when he hugged
me close there in his father's presence.

"So this is the treasure I've been talking to you about Dad," he


announced to his father, with a smug smile. I silently promised myself
that I would make Norman pay for the embarrassing scene he was putting
me through and gritted my teeth, as I put on a docile smile.

His father smiled knowingly, as he answered:

"She is lovely son."

"But I presume she is tired and needs some rest," he added, after


a slight pause and noticing that I was rather discomfited by Norman's
gesture. I certainly wasn't familiar with the open show of affection,

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which seemed to characterise Norman's household.

"Okay then, to bed she shall go!" he exclaimed, as he gently took the


mug out of my hand and pulled me up to my feet. "Goodnight Sir," I
turned to say to Norman's father, as I left the room.

"Goodnight child and do rest well," he responded simply.

Norman accompanied me out of the room, as I made my way upstairs
to the guest room, where I was to spend the night. As soon as we were
out of earshot, I gave him a good thump on the chest.

"How dare you embarrass me like you did in front of your father!"

"I wanted to show off a little" he answered, chuckling in a naughty
fashion.

"And besides I wanted to see how you would react," he added.

"Next time you can save your showing off for when I'm not around."
I retorted sharply, as we entered the guest room.

"You could at least have waited until I'd left the room, before making


any remark about me," I continued to complain and aimed another punch
at him.

'I'll scream for my father if you hit me again," Norman said, grinning


broadly and caught my arm in mid-air, as I still tried to land the punch.
He gently drew me to himself and held me in the circle of his arms.

The room we had entered was clean and airy, like every other part of


the house. It was a beige and orange bedroom and a lovely spider plant in
a brass plant holder, sat on the window sill. A gentle cool night air rustled
the white lace curtains, which hung from the open windows. Beyond the
curtains, I could see a starlit tropical sky. Time seemed to stand still as I
stood within the circle of Norman's embrace and enjoyed the beauty and
quiet serenity of his home.

"I hope you won't get lost in the bed," Norman asked gently, with a


soft smile, as he made reference to the wide bed, which seemed to take
up most of the room.

"I hope so too," I answered, with a small smile.

"I wish we were spending the night together," he said, with a studied
smile and watched for my reaction.

"No, Norman," I answered simply and smiled, as I broke away


from his embrace. I began to unpack my suitcase and he went into the
adjoining bathroom to run me a bath. He came back to look around the
room and to make sure that everything was right and that I had all that I
needed to make me comfortable.

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"I'm so glad you're here," Norman said, with some feeling, as he
hugged me from behind.

"I'm glad I came too," I answered and continued to hang up a dress


in the closet.

"Where is your room by the way?" I asked with curious interest.

"Down the corridor; next to my father's, would you like to see it?" he
asked, with a smile.

"No, some other time," I answered and stifled a yawn, as I sat on the


edge of the bed.

"You've got an impressive home here, Norman," I remarked candidly,


as I leant my tired back against the soft pillows.

"I'm glad you like it!" he responded, with genuine pleasure and sat


watching me for a while, as I massaged my temples with a gentle motion
and tried to unwind. I yawned tiredly for a second time and at that point,
Norman reached over to kiss me gently on the lips before getting up to
leave.

"I think I'll leave you to have your bath and get that beauty sleep of


yours. Sleep tight!" he greeted softly, as he moved towards the door.

"You do the same," I answered in a tired but relaxed manner.

I had my bath soon after Norman left and felt the better for it. There
was a lovely scented talcum powder in a powder bowl in the bathroom.
I used some of it and felt refreshingly smooth and clean, as I got into the
crisp sheets on the bed. I read a passage from my book of psalms and
then reached over to put out the bedside lamp. I thanked God for a safe
journey, and asked him to make the rest of my visit as pleasant as it had
begun. I soon fell fast asleep after that.

As I turned over in bed the next morning, I felt a piece of paper rustle


against my cheek; for a moment, I wondered what I was doing in such a
vast bed and in such unfamiliar surroundings. It clicked after a moment
and I relaxed as I reached over to read the note.

Sunlight was streaming in through the window and it was well past


10.00am by the bed side clock in the room! I hadn't intended to sleep
that late.

The note was from Norman and it went:



"You look sensual even in your sleep Effua. I wanted to tell you I
would be leaving for the farm early this morning with Dad, but you
looked so ethereal in your sleep that I didn't have the heart to wake you.


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There is something urgent we have to go over with the foreman. I trust
you
7/ be okay with Nneka until I'm back.

I love you - Norman.

I stretched luxuriously, as I finished reading the note and turned as


I heard a muffled clatter of footsteps and then a small knock on the
bedroom door.

Nneka gingerly popped her head in through the doorway and greeted,


"Good-morning!" cheerfully, when she saw that I was awake. She
was wearing a rather becoming navy blue kaftan and a pair of leather
slippers. She looked as willowy as ever, but in that attire, you could see
the beautiful woman budding beneath it.

"I hope you slept well?" she asked, with wholesome interest, as she


came to sit on the edge of the bed, close to me.

"I was worried the birds might wake you up too early. They were


making such a racket in the tree beneath my window this morning."

"No, they didn't disturb me," I answered, with a smile, as I sat up in


bed.

"I slept like I always do after a journey, soundly and very deeply


too."

"Is that to say you find travelling very tiring then?" she asked.

"Yes, I think I do, but that is not to say that I do not enjoy it."

"I see," she replied, and then continued:

"Dad and Uncle have left for the farm, did they mention to you that
they would be going to the farm this morning?"

"Yes, your uncle left me a note sometime this morning," I said and


gestured towards the sheet of paper.

"They've already had breakfast and I wondered if I could have mine


up here with you?"

"Why not," I answered, with a smile.

"In that case, I'll nip down stairs for the tray," she said and whistled
happily, as she left the room. She was back in no time with a tray bearing
a varied and plentiful breakfast. There was a plate of freshly peeled paw-
paw fruit, a delicious looking bowl of egg and vegetable omelette, two
hot plates of fried yam chips and a pitcher of orange juice.

The meal tasted just as pleasant as it looked.

"Where did you get these from," I asked, as I helped myself to some
more of the sweet-ripe paw-paw fruit.

"From the orchard on the farm," Nneka explained.



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"I must take you on a tour of the farm," she promised, as she made
herself more comfortable on the bed.

"Tell me, how did your grandfather come to acquire so much land in a


place like Port Harcourt," I asked and looked directly at her with interest,
as I leant back against the pillows.

"He inherited it from his mother," she answered simply.

"She was a Kalahari woman," she further explained.

"I see," I answered, slightly surprised.

'Didn't Uncle mention anything about that to you?" she asked softly.

"No, I never discussed it with him."

Mama Ebiye is actually a distant relative from my grandmother's side
of the family.

"I see," I repeated again with interest.

"My father too was from Kalahari," she said, after a slight pause and
smiled at the look of startled surprise on my face.

"Really?" I asked, very much taken aback. I had assumed that both


her parents had been indigenes of the same Ibo ethnic group.

"That is to say you're a bicultural person like myself, partly Kalahari


and partly Ibo?" I asked.

"That's right," she answered.

"I understand my father's relatives made a lot of fuss about wanting to
raise me when my parents died. I was to have been the responsibility of
two of my eldest uncles. As you can imagine, Grandpa used every means
in his power to get custody of me. He naturally thought it ridiculous
that I had to be shuttled between two different homes, when he and my
Grandma had the means to raise me. Besides, I was only a baby when my
parents died and most people agreed that I needed the care and attention
of my grandmother. My father's relations thought differently though,"
she ended, with a slight shrug.

"I guess it doesn't really matter too much now, because everything's


turned out alright in spite of Grandma's death, so soon after my parents'
own. Besides, Grandpa has managed to maintain cordial relations with
my father's people and has painstakingly ensured that I do not forget that
aspect of my origin."

"You really are fond of your grandfather," I remarked with a gentle


smile.

"Oh yes, I am!" It's always been Grandpa and Uncle Norman for me-


all my life," she said softly.

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"I do recall what my grandmother looked like. Every now and again
the feel of her body, and the wonderful memory of the fragrance of her
clean clothing keep coming back to me poignantly. Wait a minute!" she
exclaimed and sat up straight.

"I do have a photograph of her somewhere," she said and ran off in


the direction of one of the rooms along the corridor.

She was back soon with a large framed photograph.

"Here," she said, enthusiastically and got into bed, next to me, with
the photograph. The frame held the photograph of a woman, who could
be best described as 'Handsomely Regal'. She stood tall and erect, in a
woven traditional attire, which the Asaba people refer to as 'Otogwu' or
Akwa-Ocha'. It was something akin to the Ghanaian Kente cloth. On this
woman, the attire looked distinguished and breathtaking, in a way I had
never seen it look on anybody before.

The cloth was wrapped around her bosom and reached down to her


ankles. She had her hair plaited and packed in a most elegant coiffure.
Several coral and ivory beads adorned her neck, her wrist and hair. I had
never seen a woman carry herself with so much regal grace in an African
attire before. The woman's imposing figure was belied by a delicately
beautiful face and neck column. Her vivid eyes actually served as a
window into what must have been a benign and genteel soul.

The serene and confident demeanour she portrayed, spoke of a woman,


who had enjoyed being female because she had been truly loved.

"She was beautiful," I said softly and gently handed the framed


photograph back to Nneka.

"And very kind too," the girl responded.

"I understand she died whilst attempting to rescue some babies from
a shelled maternity home, where she had been working as a Red Cross
volunteer, during the war. Grandpa has never gotten over her death and I
doubt if he ever will," she said wistfully, as she gazed into the distance.

"Tell me, do you love my uncle as much as he loves you?" Nneka


enquired unexpectedly, with the disconcerting candour and simplicity,
which was so germane to her.

I was both startled and taken aback by her question.

"Why do you ask?" I questioned her in return.

"Because I know he loves you in a way he's never loved any woman


before and he's had several of them too".

"Do you know your uncle that well?" I asked.



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"Yes, I do; much more than he realises. He assumes I'm childlike,"
she said, with a small smile.

"I don't resent that," she hastily added. "But I do know much more


than he imagines."

"I see," I responded quietly and nodded.

"You still have not answered my question," she reminded me with a
smile.

"Let's just say I have very strong feelings for your uncle, Nneka, but


whether or not those feelings would result in a permanent relationship
such as marriage, we would have to wait and see." I ended with a smile.

"I do like you a lot Effua," she again remarked, with refreshing


candour. "And in time I know I'll come to love you like the sister or
mother I've always wanted, but never had. Please try not to say no to my
uncle when he asks you to marry him," she said, with a soft and shy smile
and again gazed into the distance.

I laughed, partly in an attempt to inject a light note into a conversation,


which had turned both serious and most unusual.

"Nneka, you really are a funny one," I said and hugged her close for


a brief moment.

"I like you a lot too, but I don't think I could promise you such a


thing. Your uncle and I still have a lot to learn about each other and our
feelings for one another could very well change in the future," I gently
pointed out.

"No," she answered with a definite shake of the head.

"Uncle Norman has had many women in his life before; some he
had genuine interest and respect for, whilst a good many simply threw
themselves at him. With you, it's totally different. I've never seen him
like this with any other woman."

"Like what?" I asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

"For one thing, the respect he has for you is profound, and that is so
very important for Uncle Norman. He needs to respect a woman to be
able to love her. Apart from that, he's changed; he has definitely gone
potty over you and I can't say I blame him," she ended in a tone and with
a smile, which belied her age.

"You certainly know an awful lot for a girl, your age," I remarked, as


I lifted the breakfast tray off my lap.

My goodness! It's past twelve noon!" The girl exclaimed, as she


caught sight of the time on the bedside clock.

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"Uncle and Grandpa will soon be back and they'll find us still in
our dressing gowns," she remarked, as she jumped off the bed and
dramatically reverted to being the youthful and light-hearted Nneka,
which most people saw at first sight. I wondered how many people knew
the shrewd and razor-sharp minded personality that laid beneath that
frivolous exterior. I pondered over this, as I straightened the bed covers
and then took a shower. I had been in the shower only a few minutes,
when I heard movements in the bedroom and Norman's voice call out:

"Effua we're back! Are you in the shower?"

I turned off the shower, before responding:

"Hello Norman, yes I'm having a shower, I've only just started, as a


matter of fact."

"Hope you slept well?"

"I certainly did," I answered, with a smile and continued to soap my
body.

"Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Yes, I have," I called out.

"Would you be dressed in the next fifteen minutes? Dad and I plan to


take you two ladies on a tour of the farm with us."

"I would love that very much and I can be ready in fifteen minutes," I


called out and turned the shower back on.

"We'll see you downstairs then," I heard his receding voice call out.

"Fine," I responded and finished with my bathing. I selected a soft
cotton skirt and a billowy Grecian blouse, with a scarf to match.

It was a warm day, and so I found the attire most convenient and


appropriate to wear. I had bought the attire whilst on a holiday to Greece,
a few summers before. The attire wasn't particularly new, but I doted on
it, because it fitted me so perfectly and I felt very comfortable in it.

I was ready in good time and went down immediately to join the


others. Norman and his father rode in front, whilst I climbed into the
back seat of the Land Rover with Nneka and the picnic hamper she had
packed. We had to drive out of the estate and approach the farm from
another gate. The ten-minute drive soon brought us into a high-walled
enclosure, with rows of corn, lettuce and a wide variety of tomatoes and
lush green vegetable plants. The green rows soon ended by a wooden
fence, which had a small gate leading into the chicken enclosure.

The cemented enclosure was partitioned into three compartments and


was equipped with simple, but modern and effective poultry equipment.

148




The place had an air of relaxed, but ordered efficiency. Norman's father,
who obviously took pride in Ruining this estate-farm of his, explained
to me that this particular farm was one of the smallest he owned, in
the group of farms he owned in different parts of the country. He
understandably doted on his 'Port-Harcourt-Farm' (as he referred to it),
because he had set it up at a time when he had been under no pressure to
make profit. According to him he had actually retired to Port-Harcourt
for a well-earned rest and so running this particular farm was something
of a pleasurable pastime for him.

Norman and Nneka, who were more anxious to get the barbecue


going, had disappeared in another direction altogether. Norman's father
led me into the orchard with its wide variety of tended fruit trees. A
clearing appeared directly in front of the neat rows of orchard fruit trees.
Three office blocks, a store and a warehouse stood in the grass clearing.
A little way off was a lovely stone cottage standing on its own with a
profusion of marigold flowers, canna-lily, and red hibiscus flowers all
around it..

A garden bench only made the place look that much more enchanting


as we continued on our tour. Somewhere from within the house, I could
hear the gay laughter of Nneka and her uncle. They were obviously
cooking or roasting some meat in the tiny kitchen, which the cottage was
equipped with.

"This is a delightful place," I remarked and meant it.

"What's that noise I'm hearing in the distance?" I asked, not certain
whether it was coming from the corn-mill or a tractor.

"Come, I'll show you," he said; taking my hand.

"It's the machine, which pumps out water from the borehole. I've
always found it convenient to supply my farms with their own private
electricity and water supply. This particular borehole and those two
electricity generating plants serve the entire estate," he explained, as
we came to rest in front of the generating plants. They looked so huge
and complex it was a wonder they weren't making more noise than they
were. Two technicians manned the plant and they politely stood up as
Norman's father and I walked towards them. I politely acknowledged
their greetings, as did Norman's father, whom I instinctively felt would
get the best out of his workers and yet make them feel secure and happy
working for him. The direction in which he next led me, brought us to
a small iron-spiked gate, which opened into a corn and vegetable field,

149




which served the domestic need of the main house. The wooden shacks,
which housed the chicken and turkey birds, used for cooking in the
house, looked strangely familiar. I gave a cry of surprised delight, when
I realised that it was those same shacks and fields that I had gazed at
with rapture and appreciation, from the back stairs of the kitchen, only
the evening before and sure enough, up in the distance, was the house
looking as serene and elegant, as it had appeared to me the first time I
had seen it. Norman's father smiled softly at my childlike delight on
spotting the house. He still held on to my hand, as we chatted amicably
and returned to join Norman and Nneka at the cottage. I was grateful for
the easy and relaxed feeling, which I felt towards him. I however, felt
slightly embarrassed, when he said to me:

"Effua, I want you to know that you're very welcome to our home. I


knew your father for several years and he was one man I had tremendous
respect for. Norman has spoken to me at length about you, but now that
I've met you, I recognise that you possess certain qualities that are even
worthier than what Norman was able to articulate. After so many years
of being a parent, I know a good offspring when I see one. Norman has
been a source of pride to me. He's been everything I've ever wanted in
a son and I'm confident you'll make each other happy," he ended, as we
came within sight of the cottage.

"Thank you, Sir," I responded simply (in a quiet voice) and for want


of something better to say.

Norman and Nneka appeared from within the cottage at that moment


(as if on cue) and were bearing plates of barbecued chicken and beef.

The meat had been marinated in a rich herbal spice, some groundnut


paste, salt and pepper. It tasted marvellous, just as my host had promised
it would. I had some sweet, fleshy mangoes, freshly plucked from the
orchard. There was also some fresh coconut milk, drunk straight from the
pods; since I wasn't adept at doing this, some of the milk trickled down
my throat and onto my blouse, much to the amusement of the others.
They showed me how to drink properly from the pod and after several
attempts, I became adept at it.

I really did enjoy myself immensely that afternoon, what with


Norman's father recounting details of some of the mischief and pranks
Norman and his sister (Nneka's mother) used to get up to when they
were children. Norman and his sister must have had a rich and fulfilling
childhood, judging by the incidents his father talked about. The entire

150




household I also gathered, revolved around Norman's mother, whom I
gathered wielded a lot of kind and gentle influence on the lives of both
her husband and children.

According to Norman's father, she scarcely ever raised her voice


in anger, and the children always desired to please her. However, there
had been a particular day on which Norman had incurred his mother's
displeasure by being rude to one of the housemaids. His mother had
been extremely cross with him and had ordered him to apologise to the
girl immediately for his obscene language. Norman had done so, albeit
reluctantly. She had ordered him to retire to his room until it was time
for the family's evening meal. Norman later joined his family at table
sobbing hard and saying to them:

"Please ask my mummy to say sorry to me!"

Nneka and I dissolved into happy laughter on hearing that last bit.

Norman smiling sardonically remarked:

"I simply cannot remember any of it."

"I didn't think you would," his father answered, with cheerful


humour.

Back in the house, we agreed (by a general consensus) to have the


evening meal Mama Ebiye had laid out for us in the dining room, out on
the lawn, in the fading twilight. We had only just settled down to eat the
meal when two pellets of rain announced a tropical thunder storm. We all
made a scramble for the shelter of the house and finished what was left of
our supper in front of the huge television set in the living room.

We watched several hilarious comedy series and by midnight, I


decided I had had enough food and drink to last me a long time.

On that last night of my visit, Norman's father asked that we say a


short prayer together, before retiring to our beds. He explained that it
was in deference to Norman's mother's memory. She used to insist that
the family said their prayers together at least at the end of the day. Her
contention was that family prayers, gave a household a distinctly happy
flavour. The prayer we said that night was a simple one - Norman's father
thanked God for our presence and the wonderful memory of his wife.
Nneka prayed that this visit should be the start of many others. Norman
thanked the Lord for the joy we found in each other's company and asked
that it be preserved. Finally, I in my turn, thanked God for a pleasant
weekend. I asked him to bless my hosts and reward them for their kind
hospitality.

151




I was surprised to discover that I harboured a slight feeling of
nostalgia, as I climbed into Norman's Range Rover the following
morning. Norman himself was busy putting away my luggage in the back
seat whilst his father, Nneka and Mama Ebiye, all stood by and urged
me to come back some other time. Their open warmth made me feel ten
feet tall. I promised them that I would come again. We eventually left,
amidst cheery waves from my hosts and friendly barks from the dogs.
As Norman's powerful vehicle gathered speed in the direction of lbadan,
I felt that familiar warm glow that comes from making new friends and
earning the respect and admiration of decent people.

152


TEN



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