The Girl with the Louding Voice(59)

“She will never forever find out,” I say, eyes full of something sure. “I will keep it a secret forever and ever and ever. She is always beating me in this place. This is my chance to be free. Please,” I say again. I just want her to say yes, that she will help me. “Can you help me?”

She sigh. “I guess it’s the least I can do in exchange for how you helped me.” Before I can ask when I ever help her with anything, she say, “You need to write an essay of a thousand words in the next few weeks?”

“Yes, ma,” I say, heart beating fast.

“Let’s see.” She look the ceiling, then look me. “Ken is out this week. The articles for the month have been processed. I can probably move that meeting with the environmental agency tomorrow evening, and finish off the report on Kainji Dam a day or two late. Can I do this?”

I don’t know if she is talking to me, or talking to herself, or both me and herself together, but I wait, keep looking, keep hoping she will say yes.

“Adunni. Listen. I can free up some time this week and maybe a few more days in the next week. Since your madam is away, I could swing by in the evenings, and I could, you know, teach you a bit of English to help you prepare for the essay and brush up your speaking, and that way, I can get to know you hopefully well enough to write a pretty good reference. If you can get some time off in the evenings and—” She stop. “You look dazed.”

I daze. Very daze. “You will help me and be teaching me?” I put my hand on top my chest. “Me?”

I don’t think of whether what I am about to do is the correct thing, I just jump front, put my hand around her, and hold her tight. She smell of rich people’s sweat and something like mint leaf. She is laughing as I leave her be. She didn’t angry that I am giving her embrace, and I feel sad and happy that this rich woman didn’t push me back and spit on me like Big Madam.

“Sorry I am holding you like that,” I say. “It is giving me excitement, this teaching me better English and helping me. Will you reference me too?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem,” she say, shrug her shoulder. “No wahala at all. I’ll come by tomorrow evening. What time would work?”

“By seven, seven thirty, I am finishing all my housework.”

She wide her eyes. “You work from what time till seven?”

“I am waking up around four thirty, five, in the morning,” I say. “I am doing my work, cleaning, sweeping, washing, everything, till seven, seven thirty. But if Big Madam is in the house, then I am working till sometimes eleven or twelve in the midnight.”

“From dawn till midnight? That’s madness.” She talk in her breath, but I hear every word of it.

“See you tomorrow evening.” She wave two fingers in the air, turn herself around.

“Thank you, ma,” I say. “See you.”

At night, I sleep a good sleep. I see Khadija and Mama inside my dream. The two both of them have become a happy bird with wings of rainbow color, flying high in a sky with no cloud.





CHAPTER 33

Fact: There are over 50 million users of the internet in Nigeria. It is predicted that, by the year 2018, over 80 million Nigerians will be using the internet, placing the country in the top fifteen globally for internet usage.

Why are you locking your teeths inside iron gate?”

I ask Ms. Tia this question on the first evening that she is teaching me school. It is six fifteen, and the sun is climbing down from the sky, making the whole place have a orange glowing light. Me and her are sitting in the outside, under the palm tree, the one beside the outside tap, near the kitchen. There is no breeze, the air is stiff, the smell of the onions Kofi is peeling is in the air.

The two both of us are sitting on the floor, me in my uniform, her in her blue jeans-trouser and t-shirt. Today, her t-shirt is white. They write GIRLS RULE on top the front in black biro. She have on a white canvas-shoes on her feets. She so small, sitting beside me, her size make me think of Khadija.

“Gate?” She look up, squeeze her nose. “On my teeth?” She laugh. “My braces?”

“Brazes? That is what you call it?”

“Yes, braces,” she say. “I had crooked teeth when I was growing up. My teeth were growing on top of each other. I looked a bit like a baby shark. They come off in a year. I guess they do look like tiny iron gates.” She use her tongue to climb the braces, feel them one by one. “So I was thinking, we should start with the simple stuff, your tenses.”

She pick up a pencil and exercise book from the floor, take the pencil, and write ADUNNI on top the cover of the exercise book. Her writing style is full of plenty curves, everything joining each other, making me think of the henna Enitan drawed on my hand when I was doing my wedding. “I checked online for a beginner syllabus,” she say. “A syllabus is a plan for how we would work, what I can teach you.”

“See-lah-bus,” I say, talking slow.

“Good pronunciation. Where was I? Yes. I checked online. On my phone.” She lift her leg, dig inside her pocket, bring out her phone. She draw something on her phone with her finger, and light is coming on inside it. She hold it up and I am seeing plenty words like a newspaper.

“I would suggest we start with the intermediate course.” She turn the phone to herself, begins to read from it. “This website has courses that can help. It’s the BBC website.”