The triumph of the water lily
Tranquil Days and Months For Me
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- Profound Joy and Ecstasy
- Estrangement, Pain and Fear on My Horizon
| Tranquil Days and Months For Me
A letter from Nkem was waiting for me on my desk, when I returned to work the following Monday and it read: My dearest Effua, Odili and I have only just returned to Britain after a two-week-visit to Switzerland to Jaiyesie and her husband, Nicol. The break has done us a world of good. Odili is well-rested and is beginning to find his peace of mind and good humour again. Its really good to have him to myself and away from all the pressures and rancour, which pervaded our lives back home. Its almost like it used to be when we first got married. Some of the old rapture is beginning to return into our relationship and it's such a surprising joy to discover that in spite of the years and all that we've been through, the intense feeling of affection, which we once had for each other is still there. My dearest Effua, maybe you can now understand why I decided to leave Odili and set up a home of my own. I was only trying to bend with the storm, so that it wouldn't break me. Now that the tide has washed over us, Odili and I are learning to stand erect again, (Like the rice stalk does, after a turbulent spell in the paddy field). Hard and hopeless as it seemed at first, God has permitted something good to come out of this crisis, for our love has matured. It has stood the test of time and stress and has proven itself We are indebted to God and to friends like you, who have helped us carry our burden with courage and good grace. I'm really beginning to appreciate that the name of the game of life is 'Patient-Endurance'. When you bide your time and bend with life's tidal waves and storm, you don't get broken, as we might have been, had we chosen to stand rigidly in its path and refused to be malleable or drink the bitter (albeit healing) cup of patient- endurance. I'm so sorry I got carried away ranting on and on about myself 153 I do trust you're fine dear. How is work? And did you visit Norman s father after all? I sincerely hope you did. I hope you had a lovely time and will give me a detail by detail account of your visit when you write. I'm, awfully sorry this is a relatively short letter, but you see, I'm at the moment busy trying to furnish our house. It's basically equipped with adequate household gadgets, but I want to make it feel just like home for us. Say me well to your lovely parents, Yele, Wanita and of course Norman! Hope you realise how much your friendship means to me. May God bless and keep you always! All my love, Nkem. I replied to the letter and tried to make it as detailed as I could. After that, life soon settled to being its normal routine for me again. A week after Nkem's letter, I was put in charge of a new weekly column in a newspaper journal, which 'The Guardian' had only just acquired and launched. It was enjoying a remarkably swift and wide circulation. My new assignment was interesting, but also challenging. I worked long and hard during the week to get the column properly turned out for the weekend. My weekend breaks soon became far and in between. Norman was understanding and came down to lbadan to be with me. His visits meant a thankful break from the gruelling hours I was putting in. I practically worked round the clock and even had to go to bed with a writing pad and a biro on my bedside table, in case an idea came to me during the night. My Editor-in-chief was pleased with my column, but the effort I was putting in was taking its toll on me. About four weekends after I had taken on my new responsibility, Norman paid me a visit as usual and protested vehemently about my weight loss. I was working very hard and not eating well enough. He virtually supervised my eating that weekend and simply refused to allow me to talk-shop for the entire period he was with me. It was both refreshing and therapeutic, to have him fuss over me like that and I went back to work completely refreshed and very able to take on another bout of investigative journalism and tough editorial work. 154 I spoke to my parents regularly over the phone during that period. I gathered from what they said, that they were seeing a lot of Norman and that he had further endeared himself to them. Norman himself had come to develop a genuine affection and respect for my parents. He unconsciously referred to them as 'Papa and Mama' and I was glad. In August, Norman had to travel to Ethiopia and was away for five weeks! It was sheer drudgery for me. I hadn't realised how much his weekend visits had come to mean to me. He made several trunk calls to me and sent me lots of quaint greeting cards, but I still missed him hopelessly. The five weeks eventually came to an end and he came rushing down to Ibadan to see me, with loads of presents. I was very thrilled to see him, but I had private misgivings, about accepting some of the presents from him. I was certain some of the matching shoes and handbags he had bought me, must have cost a fortune. The sheer silk kaftans were breathtakingly elegant and delightful; they too must have burnt a hole in the wallet. I had always been very hesitant about accepting very expensive gifts from men, for fear that it might put me in a compromising position, a situation which someone with an independent streak like myself would never tolerate nor feel comfortable with. Norman sensed my hesitation and made it plain, that he would feel both hurt and insulted, if I as much as expressed any verbal misgivings about accepting his gifts. I sensed he meant what he had said, and so I let the matter rest. In the last week of October, Odili and Nkem returned to Nigeria. It was good to hear Nkem's modulated voice over the phone again. I very much wanted to go to Lagos and spend a weekend with her, as she had suggested, but I just couldn't get away from my work. I was completely immersed in the weekly production of my column. I however, spoke to both herself and Odili on the phone on different occasions and that compensated a little. I gathered from those conversations that Comfort had made a definite exit from their lives; her anger had been spent whilst they had been away and she had finally left Odili's home of her own accord. Nkem had nonetheless preferred to remain at her home at Apapa. Odili was there most of the time and returned to Victoria Island only on days when he had to be at his head office (which was situated along the Marina) very 155 early in the morning. It was such a relief to learn that some degree of calm and normality had returned to their lives. By the end of November that year, my column had become fully established and I had evolved a sound routine for doing my work. I was consequently under less strain that month and therefore decided to travel to Lagos to see my parents, whom I hadn't seen for several months. Nkem herself, complained about her health and actually sounded unwell and listless over the phone. "I sleep all the time Effua," she protested. "It's really awful; all I do day in day out is sleep and yet I don't seem
"You probably need a tonic and some exercise," I suggested. "You could be right," she agreed. "But Odili feels I ought to see my doctor," she added, with a tired yawn. "Never mind, when I come down to Lagos, I'll help you shake off those cobwebs and get you to being your svelte and energetic self again." "I'm really looking forward to seeing you again Effua, but I very much doubt if I would be able to lift a tennis racket effectively, judging by the way I'm feeling at the moment," she replied, with another yawn. "That's the second time you've yawned in the last five minutes!" I pointed out, with amusement. "Does that mean you're off to another round of sleeping?" I asked, laughing. "Now you see what I mean!' she answered, with a tired moan. "Even an exercise as passive as speaking on the telephone has tired
"Never mind, you'll soon be alright; you just take it easy and try to relax," I advised, sympathetically. "Well, it appears I have very little choice, but to do just that," she answered, with a laugh. I also laughed at that and after a while, bade her good-bye. I decided to make that weekend trip to Lagos by air. My car was long
156 hundred kilometre stretch to Lagos. Wanita gave me a lift to the airport in her car and promised to take mine to the garage over the weekend to be serviced. It was precisely a quarter to 7.00 p.m. when I arrived at my parents' home on the mainland that day. Both my parents were out, attending a meeting and I understood Alice had only just left for a friend's place, to do her homework. Only the bakery staff, who had stayed behind to clean up and put away the equipment were around. I had a key to the main house and so let myself in. I made myself a light meal and after a shower, I slept for a while. I was in fact woken up by my mother, who put on the main light in my room, as she stood in the doorway smiling: "How are you dear?" she asked, as I sat up in bed, squinting at the sudden brightness of the room and still befuddled with sleep. "Good-evening Mama," I greeted, with a faint smile. "Where have you all been?" I asked and before she could make a
I drove down to Nkem's house the following day, in my father's car. Nkem looked as if she had lost a little bit of weight, but apart from that, she looked her normal self. She certainly didn't look half as ill as she'd sounded on the phone and I told her so. She was glad to see me and needed little persuasion to get her to agree to come away with me to my parents' house for the day. I had wanted her to stay the night, but, she explained (as she got dressed) that she couldn't, because Odili was spending the weekend with her and expected her to be home when he returned that evening. I nodded with understanding and watched her, as she got ready. I noticed with interest, that Nkem's movements were rather sluggish, although she appeared to be well. I helped her zip up the chiffon blouse she had pulled on. "Here, this is for you," she said, as she proffered a paper bag, which she had taken out of a drawer, at me. I immediately guessed that it contained some gift she had brought back for me from her visit abroad. "Look, Nkem, you don't have to bring me a gift each time you step out of the country!" I protested vehemently, as we left the room. "Well, you tell that to Odili when next you see him," she replied, with a tired smile, as she settled into the passenger seat of my father's 157 vehicle. "The present is from him," she said, as she leant her head against the head rest and shut her eyes for a few moments. I put the package away in the back seat of the car and started the ignition. "Odili getting me a present is as good as you getting me one; thanks dear," I added quietly with a smile and squeezed her hand in appreciation. I was beginning to worry a bit about her obvious lethargy and general feeling of malaise. I hoped the emotional upset she had been through in the weeks before had not left her with a latent feeling of despondency and depression, which was only beginning to rear its head at that time. She picked up eventually in the lively company of my mother. We generally had a pleasant and restful afternoon with both my parents that afternoon. My mother was in the kitchen preparing lunch, when we arrived. We went over to help her; Nkem gave her a hand with shredding the okra, whilst I prepared the yam-flour meal (Amala as it is popularly referred to in Yoruba). It was to be eaten with the okra and fish stew, which mum was busy preparing. We chatted amicably and before long, the meal was ready. My mother was not only young at heart but also easy to get on with. I therefore found it easy to relate to her as a friend and confidently brought my friends home to meet her and my father. Alice, whom my mother had sent up to her room to read for an impending (and as I gathered) very important entrance exam to secondary school, joined us for lunch. She helped convey some of the food to the front room, where my father was busy watching a video cassette documentary on the life of Mahatma Ghandi. We had to enter and leave the room with minimum noise, because my father's interest and concentration on the film was so intense! He urged us to sit quietly and watch the film with him, which we did and enjoyed. One could not help agreeing with him that most African leaders would benefit immensely from watching the documentary and borrowing a leaf from the charismatic personality of Ghandi and secondly, that the documentary had brought out the fundamental distinction between a 'Statesman and a Politician'. The former, in my father's opinion, was epitomised by Ghandi, whose every political action or utterance was guided by a genuine love for his nation, as opposed to the egocentric motives, which often guided the actions of most politicians. I noticed that Nkem looked tired, as she watched the film and could hardly keep her eyes opened at the end of it. She made important 158 contributions to the debate about the film, albeit cryptic and often in monosyllables. A shortwhile after the film ended, I decided it was high time I took her home. Alice asked to come with me and so climbed into the back seat of the vehicle. We were amused at the way Nkem kept dropping off to sleep and then coming awake with a start, each time the vehicle pulled away from a traffic light. "Effua, I'm sure I've been bitten by a tsetse fly or some kind of bug carrying the sleeping sickness!" She moaned, as she went off to sleep again. We soon got her home in one piece and I accompanied her upstairs, whilst Alice waited in the car. We chatted briefly for a while and after that I left for home, with the promise that I would give her a ring before leaving for lbadan the following day. "Won't you be seeing Norman before you leave," she asked, as I was leaving the room. "No, I won't, because he's out of town visiting his father in Port- Harcourt," I explained in response. I left for lbadan the following afternoon after lunch. It was one of those hot languid, Sunday afternoons, when everyone appears to be overfed and drowsy. Every member of my parents household, except Alice and myself, were asleep. My mother had offered to drive me down to the airport to catch a plane and had asked me to wake her up when I was ready to leave. I however decided to use a taxi, rather than disturb her siesta. Alice went off to find me a taxi, whilst I made a quick call to Nkem. She was in the process of getting ready to go and see her doctor, when I rang. "I'm on my way to see the doctor," she explained to me. "Odili insists that I do so and has actually sent down the driver to pick
"Yes, I do think it's the sensible thing to do, now that I've seen how tired and lethargic you act and look. Well, do take good care of yourself," I advised and bade her a quick good-bye, as Alice rushed in to say that the taxi had arrived. 159 160 Eleven Profound Joy and Ecstasy Towards the end of that same week, I visited my parents and saw Nkem. I returned home on Thursday night, so distraught and fatigued, that I could not eat the supper Yele and Wanita had kept for me. I simply ripped off my clothes and went to bed in my pants and bra. I woke up the following morning with a pounding headache and a short temper. The article I was preparing for my column that weekend still lacked substance, in my estimation. I had less than forty-eight hours to go, before the journal went into production and I had run out of fresh ideas. I filled a thermos flask with black coffee and left for work, well before the others were up. However, as luck would have it, I got a new lead and before noon, the column had begun to take proper shape. I made good progress right into the middle part of the afternoon and could hardly tear my eyes from what I was writing, when Nicky (my colleague who occupied the cubicle next to mine), popped her head in through the doorway to announce that I had a phone call. "There is a call for you," she announced, "and it's on the main line." "Yep," I answered, without looking up. "I'll be there in a minute," I added, as I quickly completed the sentence I was writing. "Hello?" I called into the receiver, as I arrived to take the call in a flurry. "Effua is that you?" I heard Nkem ask at the other end. "How are you dear?" I asked, brightening up instantly, as I recognised
"Nkem what's wrong," I asked, straightening up from my hunched position and fully attentive. "Darling, I've got fabulous news for you," she said, hardly able to contain herself. "Pipe down and tell me what it is," I suggested, slightly agitated 161 myself. "Effua, I'm pregnant! Did you hear me? I'm pregnant at last," she repeated, with a tearful voice, full of emotion, joy, relief and every form of happiness one could imagine! My heart did a somersault! I leapt into the air with a whoop of delight (and in full view of my colleagues in the newsroom), as the full meaning of what Nkem was saying hit me! "Sweet Jesus!" I exclaimed, with frenzied delight, much to the amused amazement of my colleagues, who were more familiar with 'A serene, unflappable Effua'. "Have you won the pools?" someone wanted to know. I simply smiled broadly and said to Nkem. "Darling! I am truly glad for you!" "I know you are," she answered, still overwhelmed by it all. " When did you learn of this?" I asked, a little bit calmer now. "Only this morning; my doctor took some urine sample the Sunday
"You mean that's what's been responsible for the way you've been feeling". "That's right. As a matter of fact, my doctor spotted all the symptoms I described to him the Sunday I saw him, as early signs of pregnancy, but decided to say nothing to me until after he had carried out all the necessary tests and examinations. I'm still stunned by it all." "How is Odili taking all this?" I asked, with interest. "He's been very tearful. He just keeps brimming up," she explained. "Talk about being overwhelmed!" she added, in a voice filled with warm tenderness and a soft happy laughter. "So how are you feeling at the moment?" I asked, with a smile "I'm on a permanent high!" was the prompt reply. "Life has suddenly become like a fairy-tale, a dream I don't want to wake up from and do you know that the doctor said the pregnancy is entering its fourteenth week, and I had't the slightest notion that such a thing was happening in my body!" "It's just as well you didn't know until now that it's well-established," I remarked. "Yes, I think it's best this way. I suspect it happened whilst we were away in Britain." 162 "Yes, it must have," I replied, with a soft smile; "If the doctor says it's well into its fourth month." "Odili is seriously talking about me going away to Britain until the baby is born. He's so scared about any complications setting in and says he doesn't want me to be disturbed or upset in any way. He's already begun pampering me and it appears I'm going to be in for plenty of that. Not that I'm complaining though".... "You deserve every bit of pampering you get Nkem," I said softly "You've been through a lot and I believe you are one person who deserves this good fortune." "God has been marvellous to me," she remarked. "He's proven to be faithful after all and I'm so grateful for that. Look, why don't I ring you again in the evening so we can have a long natter?" "Yes, you do that," I agreed and did a quick time check. "I should be home by seven. You've made my day Nkem! and I really
"It was a joy sharing it with you, believe me," she answered warmly and repeated the promise to phone me up later on in the day, she then hung up. Everybody in the Newsroom was waiting to find out from me 'What all that was about'. I simply grinned broadly at them, did a small twirl (much to their amused consternation), before hurrying off to my cubicle to make a call to my parents and then Norman, to share the news with them. Their reaction was virtually the same as mine. I chatted animatedly with Norman for a short while and then returned to my work, without having taken a lunch break, but feeling much happier and light-hearted than I had felt the day before or in a long time for that matter. I tackled my work with greater zest and achieved a lot, well before it was time for me to go home. I hadn't realised how involved I had become with Nkem's affairs or life. I felt as if her new joy was also a real and personal triumph for me. Four days later, Nkem rang me again, to say that Odili was insistent about her going abroad to rest and then have the baby. I couldn't say I blamed him for being paranoid and totally unprepared to take any chances with this new-found happiness of theirs. Nkem had a long chat with me the night before they left. "Presently, how are you, health wise?" I asked, as I made myself
163 "I still feel weak and lethargic, but otherwise I'm in very good form," she replied. "Well, you stay happy and pampered; be sure to give me a ring as soon as you settle in Britain," I answered. I'll certainly do that," she assured me in a happy but tired voice, before ringing off. Three and a half weeks later, I got a letter from Nkem, saying how well and wonderful she felt. The letter went: I don't think heaven will be any different from this Effua! Odili is giving me all the love and affection imaginable and I'm lapping it all up. We've only just been on an exciting tour of the continent and then returned to Britain to play host to a delighted Nicol and Jayesie. I've begun to enjoy my pregnancy immensely and Odili is sharing every aspect of the experience with me. All the lethargy and general malaise I was experiencing is all behind me now. I've never felt so well in my life! The baby is moving perfectly now and the pregnancy is beginning to show. The doctor assures us that all is well and we 're so, very grateful for that. We wish there was a way we could say a special THANK YOU' to God and friends like you, who saw us through trying times and have helped us to this present joy. All I can say Effua, is, may the same joy and fulfilment come your way! May God bless you always Nkem! "What a lovely turn of events," I said to myself as I finished reading Nkem's letter for the second time. I was suddenly filled with warm admiration for this remarkable friend of mine, who had been through so much personal crisis and emotional upheaveal and had yet managed to take the smooth and rough edges of life with courage and remarkable grace. In her delightfully noble fashion, Nkem had yet again triumphed. On the 23rd of October, Nkem, after nine hours of labour, gave birth to her first child. He was a boy and his name was Julian Onyiye-Chukwu- Diuso (which literally in lbo means: The gift of God is delightful) and nothing could have been more truthful than that. 164 Julian not only weighed a healthy seven pounds when he was born, but was also a perfect child and a joy to behold. Norman and I were at the airport about two months later to welcome home Julian and his joyful parents. Nkem had phoned me up the week before to say they were returning home and that she and Odili would like me to be godmother to the child at his christening, which was also to take place at the end of the same week they were to return. I had never been a godmother before and was glad to have been asked to be one to as special a child as Julian. My parents and Norman were also invited to the christening, which turned out to be a really lovely affair. Only a group of very close friends and family had been invited and it was on this occasion that I met Nkem's aunt (Jaiyesie's mother) after so many years. She had travelled all the way from Fernando-Po with her husband, Uncle Achilles (as Nkem referred to him) for the christening. A number of Odili's associates were present and so was Sister Vanessa (a buxom, albeit attractive black-American woman), who led the group of charismatic gospel singers, from Nkem's local parish and what a performance they gave that evening! The church service, which took place at the small Catholic parish church on Victoria Island, did not take long. Nkem, looking beautiful and serene, read the responsorial psalm. Odili had taken the first reading. The psalm, which bore such touching relevance to the couple's new found joy went: I waited patiently for the Lord and he inclined to me and heard my cry and drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog and set my feet upon a rock. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord.
After the official christening ceremony, we all retired to Nkem and Odili's home on Victoria Island for a dinner-party. The splendid feast was prepared by a professional catering organisation. Just as splendid was the musical entertainment put up by members of Nkem's Catholic charismatic group from Apapa. 165 The group was remarkably good. The rhythmic soul/rock gospel they produced, immediately dispelled my stereotypical notion that everything that had to do with the church or the gospel was sombre, staid, old- fashioned or plain uninteresting! The performance of the group that evening, did change the views of not only myself, but also that of virtually everyone present at the christening. Suddenly, there were before our eyes, intelligent, good-looking men and women from all walks of life, using meaningful lyrics and superb and haunting music to praise God, with a yearning that came from the soul, totally unashamed and completely unabashed .... They were all present; lawyers, doctors, nurses and university undergraduates, they all came together to make up the wonderful group, which sang in a compelling fashion with Sister Vanessa, who was endowed with an arresting voice. My parents, who were themselves Catholic charismatics, were simply enthralled by the singing and revelled in the spirituality of it all. One of the evening's highlight was a narration by the lead guitarist (a clean- shaven and attractive young man in his final year at the Lagos University), who came up to say how hopeless his life had been before he found Christ. It wasn't easy to believe that the sedate, clean and responsible individual before ones eyes had been responsible for some of the most heinous crimes you've ever heard of. He had not only sold and cultivated cannabis, but had also got people hooked on it. He had been jailed for this and for a number of other crimes and it was whilst he had been in jail that a fellow inmate, whom he had unsuccessfully tried to kill, had introduced him to the Bible and then to Christ. That friend he told us, never left prison alive; his plea of manslaughter and not murder in a homicidal case, had not been accepted by the courts. He had been sentenced to death by hanging, after a protracted court trial. In the months preceding this convict's death, we were told of how this man had changed remarkably and found a new peace with God; a peace, which he had felt compelled to share with both his inmates and prison wardens alike. The fellow had been fond of singing a particular song in praise of Jesus and his mercy. Segun (the fellow who recounted this extraordinary story), sang the song that evening. It was a slow, rhythmic, haunting number, it came from the heart and I doubt if many eyes remained dry (or throats 166 remained without a lump), as he sang that tribute to his friend. Segun gave two more quick numbers after that and several people got up to dance to them. My parents left not too long after that. It was apparent they had enjoyed themselves immensely like everyone else. Norman and I saw them to the car after they had said their goodbyes to Nkem and Odili. Norman and I remained in the garden, enjoying the freshness and privacy of the starlit grounds. Norman took my hand, as we strolled along and finally came to rest beneath a flame of the forest tree. "My father called me on the phone two mornings ago," he said, as he gently drew me into his arms, as we stood leaning against the broad trunk of the tree. "How is he?" I enquired, smiling softly. "He is fine, but he wants to know when next you would be coming to
I laughed softly and answered: "Tell him I'll come, as soon as I can get away from this tedious routine of mine." "Is that a promise?" Norman asked, as he continued to stroke my temple in an affectionate manner. "On my honour," I answered and promptly placed my hand on my chest, in a jestful gesture of taking an oath. Norman laughed softly. A tired sigh escaped from him, as he held me closer saying: "I might be leaving for New York soon, Effua." My head shot up immediately and I looked up into his eyes, with a
"Did you say New York?" I asked in a voice calm and clear, but filled with disbelief. "It's still a rumour Effua, nothing is certain yet," he said, in an anxious attempt to calm my nerves and I sensed he was beginning to wish he hadn't mentioned it at all. "Honestly darling, it's nothing to worry about". It might not even happen. It only came up the other day the President was expressing some dissatisfaction with the quality of our press work abroad. He felt our office at the United Nations, could do with some experienced journalistic help, in terms of information gathering and putting our points of view across, in a more poignant, albeit diplomatic fashion. He merely mentioned my name in passing; there was nothing definite nor 167 categorical about what he said." "If you had to go away, for how long do you think you would be gone?" I asked, softly. "I wouldn't know Honey!" he replied, gently. I sighed deeply and rested my head against his chest, without
"Going away to New York will do me a world of good Effua," he said quietly, after a lengthy pause. "It would help lift this awful feeling of guilt, which is stifling me at the moment. I bitterly, regret joining the civil service, Effua, especially this particular one. The whole thing is a charade right from the pretty speeches and press releases people like me have to write, to the promises of a more abundant life for our people. Effua these people do not even begin to realise what the real meaning of leadership is all about; all they're interested in is masquerading as people of worth and intelligence, whilst they're busy siphoning and embezzling this nation's resources to foreign banks, where they'll never be of benefit to you, me, or any other Nigerian for that matter. "Effua I'm sick of it, believe me, I'm sick of it all. I thought the mistakes of the first republic and the civil war would have taught us a few lessons, but they haven't. "We're repeating all the mistakes of the first republic all over again Effua, but this time, it is worse, because the scale of corruption is grandiose and the amount of money being embezzled is stupendous!" "And I'm an accomplice in all this, because I'm not saying anything against it. How in goodness name can I write a speech about building a virile nation for a bloke whom I know looks the other way when our treasury is being looted. I'm enmeshed in it all and I'm twice as guilty, because as a journalist, I owe the country the duty of saying something against this corruption, which I'm so very much aware of. Instead, I am aiding and abetting it all, with the fine speeches about 'National hope' and the 'Building of a Virile 168 Nation', which I keep turning out from my office. The least I could do Effua is to resign. I've often toyed with the idea. I guess I haven't had the courage to be decisive and do something about this weight of frustration I've been carrying around with me". I sighed softly, as Norman finished what he was saying. I was certain that just having me listen to him was in itself a relief. It was obvious that he had needed to do all that uninterrupted talking, and I was glad he had trusted me well enough to share this conflict he was going through with me. Having schooled with Norman, I knew he was a skilled journalist with plenty of prowess, but he was putting this skill to very little use, because he was working for a less than worthwhile course. I fully appreciated the extent of his frustration and I hoped that New York would resolve it. He, like so many other skilled young Nigerians had so much to offer the country, but because the will and leadership was lacking, this potentially important and powerful resource was not being harnessed. I held him to myself for a while, hoping that my embrace and listening ear had helped him a little. We soon started talking about less serious issues and continued doing so until it was almost midnight. Norman eventually left at about a quarter to midnight, feeling less sombre and preoccupied with his thoughts than he had been at the beginning of the evening. We kissed each other goodnight and I promised to see him, before leaving for Ibadan the following day. As I walked into the hallway after Norman's departure, Nkem caught sight of me and asked me to come over to be introduced to some friends of hers. They were a Filipino couple and were both members of the charismatic movement. We stood talking, until the couple were ready to leave. Nkem handed her sleeping child to me whilst she saw her guests to their vehicle. Several other guests stood in groups, around the large airy dining room, talking animatedly in low tones with the occasional outburst of laughter. Odili stood talking by the staircase with some associates or friends of his in a heated debate. He winked conspiratorially and smiled, as I indicated that I was taking the baby upstairs to bed. I got the child to the nursery and helped Mama Nima change him into fresh night clothes. The action naturally awakened him and so I had to rock him in my arms for a while, until he went to sleep again. However, the moment I laid him down in his cot, he gave a loud cry of protestation and I hastily picked him up again. I then decided to spend what was left of the night there in the nursery with Julian and his nurse. 169 Mama Nima quickly made up the spare bed in the room for me. She held Julian, who had again refused to lie in his cot, whilst I changed into my night gown. I took the child from her and settled into bed with him. The child promptly fell asleep, snuggled up close to my bosom totally relaxed and at peace. "This one has developed an early taste for women!" Mama Nima remarked, with amusement, as she watched Julian settle down to sleep, on my bosom. Mama Nima herself soon settled down to sleep, after making sure that the window nearest to the child wasn't too wide-open to allow in a draught. Julian was a chubby and big baby and it was such a pleasure to have him nestling close to my bosom like that and as I went to sleep. With the sweet baby smell of my godson wafting into my nostril, I began to understand some of the joyful content and strong emotions Nkem told me she experienced, when she first held her child to her bosom. I watched Nkem with amused interest, as she bathed her child the following morning. "It's amazing how a simple biological, act as begetting a child could change your emotions and responses so drastically. I feel as if I have fulfilled the singular mission of my creation in begetting this child," she said softly, as she took the clean towel I offered her and wiped the baby's body with it. "You've certainly become emotionally intense," I said, with a teasing smile. "I can't say I blame you though. Julian is a delightful child and you ought to be proud of him," I added and made funny faces at the child, as I jingled my bunch of keys before his eyes. I was fully clothed and ready to start my journey back to lbadan. I planned to see Norman before leaving and so I set out early. Odili was still in bed and so were the other house guests. I asked Nkem to give my love to Odili, as she came out to the car with me. I gave Julian a kiss on the forehead. "Take good care of your mum," I said to the child in jest, before getting into my car. Nkem stood smiling happily in that early morning sunshine and blew me an affectionate kiss as she stood, waving with her son in her arms. "You drive carefully now," she called out, as my car gathered momentum and headed in the direction of lkoyi and Norman's home. 170 I saw very little of Nkem for the rest of that year. I did see her very briefly in the first half of the following year and was amazed at how much my godson had grown. I vowed that when his first birthday came along, I would make up to him my lack of attention. I desperately wanted to get to know that friendly bit of Nkem and Odili better, but unfortunately I couldn't, because I became even more wrapped up with my career in the New Year. I was appointed to the editorial board of the newspaper, a position which was in itself prestigious, but nonetheless meant a concomitant increase in the level of my responsibilities. Much to my chagrin, I found I couldn't even attend the little fellow's first birthday party which I had been looking forward to. Julian's birthday that year actually fell on a Wednesday, but his mum and dad had planned to have a weekend celebration for him. Unfortunately, it was that very weekend that I had to be at the television studios of the WNTV, for a live interview with the state governor. The programme was to be shown live via satellite, on the network service and the newspapers invited had been asked to send their most incisive journalists. My Editor-in-Chief had asked me to represent the newspaper, saying that the assignment was a daunting one and that I was the only one he could really entrust it to. I had no choice but to entrust Yele with the task of delivering the rocking-horse I had bought Julian to Nkem and Odili's home at Victoria Island. I had originally planned to attend the party with Yele, since she was free that weekend, and was scheduled to drive down to Lagos in her Buick, to collect a consignment of art equipment she had ordered from abroad. Yele consequently travelled to Lagos on her own that weekend and returned to say how thrilled Julian had been with his present and how gorgeous and well-organised the party had been. I saw some Polaroid photographs Yele had taken and after a lengthy chat on the phone with Nkem and Odili (about the party and how much fun they had all had), I felt less guilty and perturbed about not having attended it. Nkem had categorically expressed the desire that I should be present at the occasion, saying that it wouldn't be quite the same without me. She had good-naturedly understood my reasons for being absent and had sent Yele back to lbadan with a car load of food and drinks. 171 172 Twelve Estrangement, Pain and Fear on My Horizon Christmas, the same year that Julian turned one, came and went
My feverish preoccupation with my career however, came to an abrupt halt, about two weeks after Christmas. It happened late one evening when Odili phoned to say Nkem was ill. "She is very ill Effua," he said and his voice sounded strained and tired. "She has actually gone into hospital." "My goodness! What's wrong with her?" I asked, anxiously. "They haven't been able to say for certain, but she's lost a lot of
"Could it be she's pregnant again, you remember something similar happened when she was expecting Julian," I reminded him. "Yes, yes, they did carry out some pregnancy tests when she went into hospital, but this time, the tests were negative. I understand her present illness has something to do with her lungs; the x-rays taken so far haven't been very clear, so her doctors aren't saying anything categorical," he explained quietly, in a voice weighed down with fatigue and anxiety. "Look, I'll come down to see her this weekend. I should be able to get away. I've been working non-stop for a while now and I think I'm entitled to a break." "In fact, she had been expressing the hope that you would be able to come to Lagos one of these weekends," he added. "You tell her that I'll definitely come down this weekend," I assured him. "What hospital is she in?" I asked. "The Creek Hospital," he said and I quickly jotted it down, before he
I was in Lagos that weekend as I had promised. In fact, I left Ibadan early on Friday afternoon, after a brief stop at the office, to see that everything was fine with the production of the news magazine, which 173 was already underway. I had some last minute consultations with Jolomi, my new (but nonetheless competent) assistant Editor, about some of our lead stories, before giving him my contact address and my parents' telephone number in Lagos. I then went on to tell my Editor-in-Chief, that I was going to be out of town for the weekend. I got into Lagos well before 4.00 p.m. (which was about visiting time at the hospital where Nkem was). I had a quick wash, some food and rest, before going to the hospital with Norman that evening, to see Nkem. She had been moved from the Creek Hospital to the University Teaching Hospital at ldi-Araba, for further treatment and tests. Odili had phoned my parents to inform them. From the description Odili left, Norman and I were able to find our way to the particular wing, where Nkem was admitted. We found Odili pacing about in the corridor when we arrived. He didn't even notice we were there until we called out to him. His face was a study in anxiety and his fidgety demeanour spoke of his desperate fight to keep a hold on his nerve. He told us that Nkem wasn't getting any better and that the doctors were still not decided about their diagnosis. "She's wasting away and yet they can't make up their bloody minds what is wrong with her!" he complained, with uncharacteristic heat and impatience and his eyes going bloodshot. "Hey, take it easy," Norman urged, gently, as he went to sit next to Odili and startled by the note of dejection and desperation in Odili's voice. The situation was obviously much more serious than we had assumed. "The tests: laboratory tests, x-ray examinations, the whole lot, isn't bringing them any closer to finding out what is wrong with her," he said, after a pause and a long-drawn breath. "I'm considering taking her abroad. I only wish I had done so, long before she got this weak,"he said, calmly, in a much stronger and subdued voice. "Is that to say you lack confidence in her doctors?" I asked, softly. "I can't say what I think or feel Effua, all I know is that I cannot sit by
"But if she is as weak as you say she is, would it be wise to subject her to a six or eight hour flight to Britain?" I asked, gently. 174 "Anything is better than this limbo and state of inertia we are in. It's obvious she's desperately ill! But no action is being taken to stop whatever it is that is eating her up" he said, sounding agitated and upset once again. "Have you spoken to her doctor about transferring her to a hospital in Britain?" Norman asked, softly, after a thoughtful pause. "I have and he's of the same opinion as Effua. He thinks she is too weak to travel," he said, cryptically. "Well don't do it then!" Norman persuaded gently. "Tough it out with them here. Personally, I'm sure it's just a question
Just at that moment, two doctors and a staff nurse, who had been attending to Nkem, emerged from her room. They had completed their examination and said we could go in to see her. Norman and I did, but Odili stayed behind to have a word with the consultant in charge of Nkem's case. Nkem sat up brightly in bed, as Norman and I walked into the room. She looked characteristically feminine and as always, daisy fresh and tidy. She however, had lost a great deal of weight as Odili had said, but nevertheless, looked only frail and not emaciated. I had steeled myself for something much worse and heaved a sigh of relief, when I discovered she hadn't quite turned into a bag of bones or a skeleton. I went up to the bed and hugged her close to myself for a minute, without saying anything. "What do you think you're doing here?" I asked, as she looked up at me, smiling all the while and obviously pleased that I had come. She giggled happily, as Norman went up to kiss her on the cheek and tease her by saying: "Nkem so you've still got what it takes to be looking feminine fresh, even in a hospital bed." "Norman, please stop pulling my legs," she said, in a strong, cheerful, voice, which belied her frail looks or ill condition. "How are you feeling love? Apart from your weight loss you look okay to me," I said, as I put down my bag beside an armchair, where I was seated. 175 "I'm actually alright, but for this breathlessness and dizzy spells I keep having. Apart from that, I'm fine, but certainly not glamorous, as Norman seems to be suggesting," she said and laughed, in that delightful full-throated fashion of hers. "You're not in pain?" I asked, in a serious but non-anxious tone. "Nope! and I eat voraciously, which I understand is uncharacteristic
"I'm sure they've all made up their minds you're definitely a queer patient," Norman teased her, as she continued laughing. "They'll soon find some computers to help them confirm that," he added, as her shoulders continued rocking with helpless laughter. I smiled and listened, as the good-natured banter went back and forth between Nkem and Norman. The room had in such a short time, taken on Nkem's personality. It was a comfortable and relaxed setting and didn't look very much like a hospital room. Nkem had her portable television and transistor radio there with her. There was also, a tiny pot of fern plant nestling amongst a selection of wines on a table nearby. "Yes, would you like a drink?" she asked. "I believe I still have some ice cubes left in the ice bucket and some of
"We better get hold of some of the cake before the whole lot disappears down your throat," Norman said, laughing, as he went to pour the drinks. Odili came in at that moment and brightened up visibly, when he saw how cheerful and relaxed all three of us were. Norman handed him a drink and he helped himself to a slice of cake from the tray. We all chatted animatedly for a while, until the network news came on air. Norman and I stayed to listen to it, but left soon after it was over. Norman and Odili went on down to the lifts, whilst I stayed behind to have a private word with Nkem. "So how is it love?" I asked, seriously, when we were alone. "I'm fine, but it's Odili that I'm worried about," she said and looked
"He is virtually out of his mind with anxiety and I doubt if he can take much more. For his sake, I hope they find out soon what is ailing me. "Hey, cheer up!" I urged. "You'll scale through this hurdle as well. You and Odili are not new to fighting, you'll win this one as well, you 176 great! big Amazon! believe me!" I said encouragingly, as I held on to her hand. "Well, if you say so," she said softly, with a tiny shrug, as her face broke into a soft smile. A week and a half later, Odili flew Nkem out to Britain for further treatment. The hospital sympathetically appointed a qualified nurse to travel with them. Nkem was desperately ill! Julian, their son and Mama Nima, his nurse, also went on that sad journey. It was also in that last week of January that Norman and I had a blazing row that nearly broke us apart for good. I had been feeling tense and highly strung, because of Nkem's deteriorating health. I returned home from work, after an exceptionally tiring day and planned to go to bed, as soon as I had taken a shower and had some food. Fortunately, the following day was a Saturday and I really didn't have to go down to the office. I had only just slipped into my bathing robe, when I heard the door bell ring downstairs. No one else was in, so I quickly went down to answer it, but only after I had looked through the curtains to find out who it was. I was naturally startled to discover it was Norman and promptly let him in. I felt the familiar tingle of heady excitement sweep over me each time I was close to him. He caught me in his arms and I felt revitalised, as some of my tension and despondency ebbed away. "So, what brings you here?" I asked, with a smile, as I led the way upstairs; I didn't relish the idea of remaining downstairs in my bath robe. "I'm actually on my way back from Ilorin, I was asked to return to Lagos immediately." "What's up?" I asked, as I took my brief-case and files off the sofa, so he could sit. "Its New York Effua!" he said, with a sigh, as he settled in the chair. "It's eventually come through. I'm leaving in a matter of days. I'll
I sat down heavily on my bed, with my feet tucked beneath me and wound a clean towel around my head, in a turban like fashion, all in an attempt to do something and stall for time. I avoided making eye contact with Norman, as he quietly sat watching me intently and waiting for me to say something. 177 "I thought we've been through all this before Norman," I protested softly, as my head began throbbing painfully. I thought I had enough cause for tension on my plate already. To have this thrust on me again seemed like a bad joke! "Effua, that was two and a half years ago. New York's a new break. It's a fresh start and I want you to be part of it," he said, in a voice, which was not only serious, but also ominously quiet and determined. He had obviously decided not to waste any time skirting around the issue with me and had come straight to the point, with a determined candour. I in turn decided to be categorical. "I maybe asking for a lot Norman, but I still need some time to sort myself out," I said softly. "How much time do you need, Effua," Norman asked, after a tense moment. He spoke with his eyes closed. "A year, two years, forever?" he asked, with impatience and heavy sarcasm. "I know, I know," I answered, holding up my hand and placing it against my throbbing temple, as I walked towards my dressing table. "Look Effua, what is it you're playing at? I can't comprehend it. I love you and I believe you care for me, so why are you stalling? You could at least be candid with me. The idea of marrying me couldn't be that bad," he gently protested. "Norman, I'm not playing at being coy. I'm not as you yourself said, one for doing that; all I'm asking for is sufficient time to sort myself out, before committing myself to a permanent relationship with you. Believe me, I need to do that! I desperately want this thing to work out for you and me and I want to enter into marriage with you, totally prepared, totally committed and emotionally ready for it". "I'm going away Effua, and that in itself introduces a new factor into the entire equation. We cannot really afford the luxury of time, needless hesitation or non-commitment to each other any longer. I plan to bring my father down to Lagos, to discuss the issue in definite terms with your dad. I would at least need to do that, before I leave for New York." "Don't you dare! I'm not some sixteen-year-old you can breathlessly sweep off her feet with a snap of your fingers. How dare you suggest you would go over my head to discuss my future with my father, without my say-so?" I asked, with eyes blazing. "You're certainly not a dreamy-eyed kid Effua, but you must also appreciate the reality, that I'm a man. I want you. I've waited this long 178 for you, because I believe you're special and worth waiting for, but that is not to say that I'm unfeeling and devoid of emotions. I respect you and that is why I want to marry you and do the right thing by you. However, I'm not going to watch you take that love for granted. It wouldn't be lair on me and besides, you would eventually lose respect for me. I at least demand a candid explanation from you, as to why you're stalling and being hesitant, when we both know, you unquestionably want me to be a Directory: standing standing -> Region III standing regional response team (rrt) meeting williamsburg, Virginia Thursday, January 12, 2012 standing -> Information and Communication Technology (ict) Products and Services available to Victorian schools on a Department preferred supplier basis standing -> Desktop computers standing -> Mobile United Committee Highlights 2014 standing -> The catholic university of america standing -> Episcopal Diocese of Rochester Standing Committee Minutes Download 1.22 Mb. Share with your friends:
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