Chained by Mama’s Wallet, Fighting for Freedom

Chained by Mama’s Wallet, Fighting for Freedom

Author: Anita Patel


Chapter 3: The Tower

For front of campus recruitment board, I dey look one faded part-time job poster for ten minutes.

I no sure if my eye dey deceive me or I dey reason too much. Sun dey hot, fly dey worry me, but I no gree move.

"Café dey find part-time, 1500 naira per hour"—no too much, but enough to buy wetin my mama no gree.

Even if na only once a week, e go mean say I fit buy data, maybe even pack indomie for rainy day.

I carry my phone, snap the contact info, my finger dey shake for dial pad, then I drop am.

Fear dey hold me. If she catch me, wahala go burst. But if I no try, I go die for this cage.

With my mama 3000-naira daily limit, even to buy shampoo, I go save for three days.

Sometimes I dey use sachet water rinse my hair just to manage.

Yesterday, my period just show, I borrow pad from Halima.

The pity for her eye pain me pass my mama scolding.

E reach where shame no fit cover again. Halima no even talk, she just pass me the pad, her eyes soft.

"Nkechi?"

I turn. Na Senior Aisha from student union, she dey look me, face kind.

She na literature club president, she don praise my book report before.

Her eye dey always bright, she no dey judge person, e dey make me relax small.

"How you dey, Nkechi? You dey manage?" She greet me gentle, smile dey her face. "You dey find part-time?"

Her smile wide, e get confidence wey dey ginger me.

"Lit club dey find editorial assistant. Na to help arrange stories every week—stipend dey."

The way she talk am, e be like say I fit fit.

My heart dey beat fast.

Opportunity wey I no expect just land. Maybe God dey answer my silent prayer.

"I go need interview?"

I dey fear say maybe dem go do formal process, but I still ask.

"Just send me your work."

Relief wash me. I get stories, I just never get mind show anybody.

She give me flyer. "Plus, next month, citywide writing contest dey. First prize na fifty thousand naira. You suppose try."

Fifty thousand naira.

Na five months living expenses from my mama hand.

For my mind, I dey calculate how many data bundle, how many textbooks I fit buy.

My hand dey shake as I collect the flyer.

Opportunity dey front me. I no fit mess am up.

Back for hostel, I hide the flyer inside textbook.

I dey fear say make my mama no see am if she waka come unannounced.

Hostel empty. My roommates don go cafeteria—since that suya wahala, dem no dey invite me again.

Na so friendship dey spoil. I no blame dem, wahala too much to carry extra.

Somebody dey fry akara for corridor, oil smell dey enter room. My belle grumble, but I dey focus on my plan.

My phone vibrate: my mama routine check.

Na every day, as if say na doctor dey check pulse.

"You sign in for class this afternoon? Send me screenshot."

I dey send attendance like say na work I dey do.

Her voice come from speaker. "I see for Family Wallet say you only spend 850 naira for cafeteria yesterday. Wetin you chop?"

She sabi every single transaction, nothing dey hide.

"Vegetable and rice..." I answer low.

Sometimes I dey wish say I fit just chop without report card.

"Protein nko? I tell you say make you dey chop well."

She go complain if I chop less, complain if I chop more. No way to please her.

She sigh. "If you continue like this, you go sick. Wetin you go do then?"

Her sigh carry guilt, as if say na me dey make her suffer.

I dey look my roommates travel photos for wall, I suddenly talk, "Mama, I wan apply for work-study."

The words just burst out. I dey surprise myself.

Long silence.

Na so fear grip me. E dey like pause for horror film.

"Which kind work-study? You lack money? I never give you living expenses?"

Her voice dey high, like say I dey accuse am.

"No be money matter..." I try arrange my words. "Na... for experience."

I dey try talk like person wey get sense, but she no wan hear.

"Talk another thing."

She don vex, I sabi from her tone.

"Student suppose face book. Experience no concern you. Na bad friend dey teach you rubbish?"

If to say I get power, I for talk back. But I swallow am.

I bite my lip, I no argue again.

No use fighting person wey don make up mind.

After call, I dig my old notebook from under mattress, open the page wey I write "Student Loan", draw big X for am.

My hand heavy, but I know say na reality. That road don block.

Parents go still find out if I take student loan. That road don block.

For back of the notebook, I get small stories I dey write—about girl wey dey locked for tower, she dey braid her long hair every day, wan escape.

I dey imagine say the girl be like me, only her thoughts dey free.

I add new line: [The girl discover say the witch wey dey guard her dey fear mirror...]

I dey laugh small—maybe na me be that witch self.

Next day for literature club, I give Senior Aisha three stories wey I rewrite.

My hand dey shake as I give am, but I dey hope say maybe she go like am.

"These stories good well." She dey look the pages, her eye dey shine. "Especially 'The Tower.' The way you take use metaphor sharp. You sure say you be fresh student?"

Her praise dey sweet me, but I dey shy. I never get this kind attention before.

I lower my head, dey look my shoe, no used to praise.

I dey remember how my mama no ever say well done, only complain.

"Na just small writing."

I dey downplay am, but for my chest, my pride dey ginger.

"No, you get real talent." She talk serious. "You must join the contest. Deadline na next Friday. Need help to polish?"

She dey show me real support—no be all those monitoring type.

As I comot from activity room, small rain dey fall.

I dey smell wet sand, breeze dey cool my face. I feel light for body.

I stand for eaves, dey watch as rain dey hit ground, remember how my mama no let me play for puddle when I small.

Her own be say, if rain fall, make I hide inside, no catch cold.

I raise leg, match enter puddle. My leg dey brown with mud, but my mind dey shine. Mud splash my trouser, one kind wild joy just rush me.

I dey laugh like small pikin—nobody dey here to stop me.

My phone ring again: video call from my mama.

My heart skip, but I no run.

I take deep breath, pick am.

I dey ready to lie if need be—today na today.

"Nkechi, where you dey? Why classroom dey your back?"

She dey scan background like detective. Her eyes no ever rest.

"This time you suppose dey library."

She sabi my timetable pass me. E shock me sometimes.

Her eye dey scan background like police torch.

"I just finish elective." I lie, heart dey beat.

Lie sweet for tongue, but fear dey inside.

"Which elective? No dey your schedule."

Her memory dey sharp, but I gats improvise.

"Erm... literary appreciation. Dem just add am."

I dey pray make she no go check school website.

I rush change topic. "Mama, my phone wan die. We go talk later."

She wan talk more, but I don already press end call.

After call, I see say sweat don full my body.

The lie dey heavy, but e sweet too. For once, I get small power.

So na so easy to lie. My mama no be God after all.

I dey wonder why I no try am before. For my mind, I dey dance.

The thing dey fear me, but e sweet me too.

For hostel, I fit breathe small. Nobody dey hold me for neck.

From that day, I dey move like agent for two world.

Daytime, I be obedient pikin, dey send screenshot, dey spend only for cafeteria.

I dey act like model student, but for night, my real life dey start.

Nighttime, I dey write for library, dey pour all my imagination for my contest story.

I dey free, even if na only for small hours.

The day I finish "The Tower," I save am for flash drive, my hand dey shake as I type my email.

If I win, I go get my own money. If I no win, at least I try.

Fifty thousand naira na my target, but pass that, na my first time to do wetin I want for myself.

I dey reason say maybe this go be my new start. I dey pray small inside.

"Once you send am, you no fit collect am back o," Senior Aisha smile.

Her smile ginger me—na now or never.

I shake head, press send, and as email show 'Sent,' I just feel peace.

My chest light, like load don comot.

"I no go regret."

For my mind, I dey promise myself: no more hiding.

On my way back hostel, Family Wallet alert show—my mama don send next week "limited living expenses."

I dey look the money, I just laugh.

The laugh dey from deep inside—no be mocking laugh, but freedom laugh.

She no know say her pikin don find another key, dey turn the lock for the tower door.

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