The Irony of Life (2)😔😔

THE IRONY OF LIFE (2)😔😔

Duration: 4mins

It was 8 days left of the 2weeks deadline to come up with the cost so that traveling documents could be processed.

“Baami, there should be something you can do to help me. Please Talk to Uncle Shina and your friends.”

“Don’t tell me you are still on this matter? Shina is struggling to cater for his family. The last time he phoned, he was lamenting the  high cost of living in the North. And I don't have any friend who can lend me such lump sum of money. Young man, Learn to live within your means and stop aiming for something too lofty to attain. There are many opportunities around you, open your eyes to one and stick to it. Situation is bound to change for a person who wouldn’t stop making efforts.”

_Baami, does not seem to get it. He should at least try sourcing for the money. This is a golden opportunity. Should I miss it, then I could as well resign to a life destined for penury and give up wishful thought of greatness._

As each day went by, this thought wouldn’t cease preying on my mind. I became a drip from the roof in rainy season, nagging my poor folks to no end. 

Five days to the deadline, I was again perched beside Baami with the same plea while dinner was being prepared. 

“Baami, do you consider this could be the chance for our family’s condition to turn around for good? You know how focused and hardworking your son is. If I travel abroad, as soon as I get a job, I will be sending home money. I will build you a new house, buy you and Maami any car of your choice.”

This time around, It was as though I was all alone in the living room talking to myself. Baami kept his eyes shut while both his legs tapped continuously against each other. Knowing his mind was made up, I felt dejected. Little did I know Maami who was at the backyard was listening. 

The next day, she came home from the market with her Àjo contribution even though it wasn’t her turn to get paid. Furthermore, she gathered her priced aso-òkè, sold them along with the trinkets her mother presented her when she got married, a generational heirloom she would have passed down to a female child. When Baami saw that Maami singlehandedly raised  ₦70,000 towards my pursuit, he was moved to also run around for money. All Baami could gather home and abroad was ₦50,000. This was a day to the deadline. At that point, I gave up. From the look of things, I was just not destined to amount to something in life. 

I was going to bed that evening when Baami called me and handed over a folded, puffy envelope. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I opened and saw bundles of money that amounted to the exact cost of traveling on counting. I was shocked when Baami revealed our two hectares of land now belonged to a cocoa merchant in the next village. 

“Your mother and I will manage to live on her earnings, coupled with what Shina sends for our upkeep, and whatever crop we are able to grow on the little space at the backyard. Just don’t forget the son of whom you are.”

Dumbstruck, I didn’t know when i broke down in tears and vowed to make my parents proud. I couldn’t wait for the dawn of the next day to make payment. It still felt like one of my fantasies when oga chidi stopped by at our compound a week later and handed me my visa and passport. Everything was happening in a flash. Three days later, with our travel tickets we were set to leave. Folusho and I from Agbómábiwón, and twelve other youths from the neighboring villages. Our families saw us off to the central bus terminus where the hired 16 passenger bus that was to convey us to the airport to catch an afternoon flight was parked. Last night,  I practically didn’t sleep. Maami stuffed me full with morals and rained prayers like never before. Baami toped it to overflow. I was given the only mobile phone in the family with the intention that we would communicate back and forth through Mr. Fatai, a native who ran a business center nearby. The day we had been dreaming and waiting for had finally arrived. Seeing Maami as she cried profusely, It suddenly felt hard to leave. 

“Remember the son of whom you are,” she had said this many times I had lost count. 

Amidst her tears, She dropped more farewell words as though I was headed to a land of no return. 

“Call us every step of the way and when you arrive at your destination, ” she rounded up as the car went into ignition and hit the road.

Clung to Baami’s side, she wept and waved till they were out of sight.

And that was the start of the journey I would wish I never embarked upon.

Seated side-by-side with Baale’s son; the only familiar face in the bus, we chatted all the way. Folusho said he had been on a plane before. I, have only seen plane flown over my head. I couldn’t wait to have similar experience. The four hours on the road felt like a passing shadow. Our driver soon pulled into a reserved area. As he slowed down to a stop at a parking lot, I observed planes flew in and out and knew we had gotten to the airport. I thought of sharing the joyous moment with Maami, but was put off with the process of first calling Mr. Fatai, who would then take his phone to our house.

What if Maami has gone to the market? But Baami will most likely be at home.

Look, I will place a call through when I finally reach my destination._

If only I knew what lay ahead, I would have bore the troubles to at least hear my parent's voice.

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To be continued same time, next week. Hope you enjoyed the read? Please leave a comment. Thank you.