Chapter 2: The Price of Sacrifice

"Daddy, I want to repeat a year. The school selection fee is three hundred thousand. Abeg, just give me one more chance. I swear this time I go read well."

I just come back from overtime, my shirt soak with sweat, factory oil still dey my body, when Morayo rush out, kneel down, and grab my leg, dey beg for money make she go repeat for the best private secondary school. Her knees press ground, face squeeze like person wey dey beg for last jollof rice at party, even dey try squeeze small tears for her eyes.

I shock. I no expect am at all.

Just this morning, before I waka go work, she dey shout for my head—voice sharp like market woman—threaten say if I stop her from that yellow-haired boy, she go hate me till I old, even curse me for family meeting. How her attitude just flip like this, only God know. Na jazz?

Maybe she see say I dey doubt am, because she look up, eyes red, face strong like person wey dey act drama for church: "I watched an educational documentary today and realised the best way for ordinary people to succeed is to study hard. I no wan waste my life. I want to repeat a year at the best school, enter UI or UNILAG, make you proud, Daddy."

I just sigh. 'Abeg, which documentary dey change stubborn pikin overnight? Na so dem dey say, if goat begin dey bark, make you check wetin e chop.'

"It's good you’ve come around. As long as you’re ready, Daddy go support you."

Which parent no wan make their pikin try and succeed? We all dey pray for our children to shine, na so.

But as I dey hear Morayo talk like this, my heart soft. I dey imagine how I go boast for meeting say, "See my pikin o, she dey University now." But spirit no gree rest. Something dey off.

I even dey reason maybe I go recommend the documentary to my colleagues—if e work for Morayo, e fit help Okechukwu or Hafsat own wey dey give headache. But this kain sharp turn—e get as e be.

I plan say Morayo go repeat for her current school, where dem sabi her well. But she dey insist on that big name private school. You know as these children dey, na big name dey hungry dem.

True, the school get better teachers, but the repeat fee na serious wahala—hundreds of thousands. My salary no even reach half. But if na for pikin better, wetin man go do? Na to squeeze body, borrow, find money.

I bring out my wallet, ready to remove ATM card. As I dey do am, my mind flash back to my own papa, how e go trek round city, do okada, just to pay my school fees—even when e no get shishi for pocket. My own wallet empty sotey e dey cry. My hand dey shake small, because this kain money dey pain for body.

But from the corner of my eye, bullet comments just dey flash for my eye, like those Facebook live wahala where everybody dey drop yarns anyhow:

[Good, the main girl is about to succeed.]

[Thank God for a second chance, or the girl for miss true love forever, all because of her stubborn papa.]

[For her last life, her papa force her to study. Yes, she no lack anything, but wetin be life without love?]

[The girl too sharp—first day after coming back to life, she don find excuse to collect money and elope with her true love.]

Line after line, bullet comments dey fly like Agege bread sellers for morning rush—everybody dey shout. My heart just dey pound, sweat dey my face even as fan dey blow.

I pause, hand on my ATM card, voice low so my wife no go hear our drama. "By the way, isn’t it Aunty Grace’s nephew next door that repeated a year there and got into University of Ibadan? I believe in you. You’ll surely enter the honour roll like him."

Morayo just hiss, roll eye like say I talk old gist. "Who wan end up like am? After all the book, na civil servant he be, dey do blind date, marry anyhow, still dey manage. Abeg, I no want that kind life."

I force smile, just dey laugh to cover shock. The pikin wey I train for this house dey talk like person wey never chop belleful.

"You don grow up. You get your own mind now."

She dey talk as if she know everybody future, like baba for shrine. This year, Aunty Grace’s nephew just enter UI—still dey hustle Jaja hostel, never even buy mattress. How she take know say he go be civil servant and marry anyhow? Abi she dey see vision?

As we dey talk, the bullet comments above her head just dey roll again, like people dey watch our life as Big Brother Naija.

[Wetin dey worry this girl papa? Why he never drop money and suddenly dey talk story?]

[By now, the boyfriend suppose dey hospital after fight, and because no money, his surgery go delay, he go end up disabled for life. The girl need to hurry collect money!]

[Ah, this thing dey vex me. I just want enter and clear out the girl papa so she go inherit money and be with her love.]

[True talk, I fit sponsor a knife.]

Line after line, all wishing for my downfall, but I just felt more and more uneasy. My hand come cold, my mind dey run up and down.

I slowly put my wallet back, acting like say I dey check for something inside pocket. "Anyway, no rush for this repeat year. The school fee fit wait small."