The definition of a fully accomplished woman in Nigeria, is a woman with a husband and children, a woman without children is seen as a tree without fruits, once a tree cannot bear fruits, it has no value, therefore it loses it's place and is cut down. Well I just happened to fall victim to this Nigerian ideology.
Growing up, my mother took her family seriously. My mother deceived a lot of people, giving them the impression that she has the perfect marriage but I and my brother knew the truth, her marriage is falling apart but mom will never agree to it and look for solutions, rather she will string dad along in public, pretending like they were happy.
My name is Olowogbade Okikiola but my friends call me Kiki, my brother is Ademola, we are the only surviving children of our parents. My mother had five children but three of them didn't make it pass the age of five. Ademola and I, are both graduates of the University of Lagos and both working class, my brother lives in Abuja while I recide in an estate in Lagos. After graduation, my brother got married to a beautiful lady from a wealthy family that mom choose, their wedding won't be easily forgotten in ondo state anytime soon, because it was very expensive, flamboyant and spectacular. My brother's bride named Oluwadamilola, flew her dress in from Paris, Ademola is a very wealthy man, he owns a company that is recognized world wide, so he is more than capable to fund everything the wedding needed. They hired the best wedding planner in Nigeria, different varieties of food was present, I enjoyed myself to the fullest.
A few weeks after the wedding, I just returned home from a hectic day at work. I work for a company as the managing director of it's branch in Lagos, the headquarters of the company is located in New York so I spent most of my time traveling and attending meetings or conferences. That particular day, I was so tired from spending three good hours stuck in Lagos traffic, the traffic was so bad that movement only occurred every fifteen minutes. My maid ijeoma, a young Igbo girl that I saved from getting burned alive by Lagosians, she was caught trying to steal a cup of garri in a shop. I just happened to be around the area to collect my weekly supply of tomatoes from a friend, that owns a stall in the market, I heard a loud noice, a man ran past me asking for petrol from the butcher.
"Ki lo se le" the butcher asked the man.
"Ole!!!!!, Ole!!!!!!, Ole!!!!!" Some children chanted running past us toward the scene of the crime. I hastingly collected my bag of tomatoes and headed towards my car, you never can tell with this Lagosians, this crime might be a means of distraction created to steal the attention of the mass, while the main thieves roam around the crowd, pickpocketing items and carrying away goods, I had once fallen a victim of pickpockets, so I was determined not to be carried away ever again, like they always say in Lagos "shine your eyes".
I walked past the crowd, Crossed the road, opened my car and dropped the tomatoes in the boot. I was about to drive out of the parking lot, when I spotted a little boy, sitting on the floor, directly in front of my car, with his head bowed, "hey, helloooooo, move away from the car" I said sticking my head out of the window. He looked up at me, I was stunned, he is the most handsome little boy I had ever seen, my heart melted away, I stepped out of the car, he was very dirty, like he had not taken a bath in years, he was covered in mud and tattered clothes, with no shoes. "Hey, are you alright" I said squatting in front of him.
"They are going to kill my sister" he said wiping the tears from his face and pointed towards the crowd across the road. I was surprised at how fluent he could speak English, most of this homeless children could neither read nor write, talk more of speaking English so fluently.
"Who is going to kill your sister"I asked touching his hand gently, his hand was so soft.
"The people there" he pointed towards the crowd again
"Is your sister the thief, they were talking about?"
He looked up sharply, "my sister is not a thief, she did it for me, I was hungry, we went to beg the woman at the stall, she refused to give us and chased us away, I was so hungry so I wanted to take a cup, just a cup but they caught me" he broke down in tears, "my sister told me to run and she collected the garri from me, so when they caught her and saw it with her, they thought she took it, it's all my fault" he continued to cry, using his hand to spread the mucus from his nose, all over his face. I held him down, took out the handkerchief in my pocket and cleaned his face, "so you are the real thief?"
"No!!!!!!!!, I just took a cup, I was hungry"
"But the garri isn't your's and you took it without approval, that is called stealing, no matter how good you try to paint it, it's still stealing".
I pulled him up, and together we Crossed the road and headed to the stall, where he stole the garri, I avoided the thugs
popularly referred to as "Agberos"
that were standing around his sister, I hated the heavy stench of cigarettes that always hung above them and the annoying thick voice they used when talking to people. I approached the owner of the stall, believing she will be more welcoming, the stall owner sat at the back of the stall counting her earnings for the day, she was a woman in her mid thirties dressed in a faded iro and buba, with a withered slippers that must have been sowed together countless times and a yellow scarf that had begun to turn into white. She kept applying saliva to her hands while counting the money, I rolled my eyes, Nigerians shaaaaaaa.
"Excuse me ma" I said moving closer to her. She quickly stuffed the money in her bag, zipped it and clutched the bag tightly.
"Ta ni?" She said eyeing us suspiciously.
"Please the little girl in front here, I want to pay for what she took. E joor ma, Awon omode niiii, they don't know what they are doing" I said rubbing my palms together and bending my knees frequently in a pleading manner.
"You sabi them before" she said relaxing a bit, obviously convinced, that we posed no threat to the money in the bag.
"Awon omo neighbour mi ni, she no they take care of them, no food for house every day, no be their fault ma, make I pay, carry them go house abeg, make e no be like say person wicked" I lied to avoid unnecessary suspicion and questions.
"Ahhhhh you be good person nahh, if to say nah another person, e go do like say e no even see them at all, hmmmmmm no problem, e te si waju, mo'n bo" she stood up and adjusted her wrapper and gele "you go give me something to use settle those my boys wey dey outside oo or else them no go free the girl oo".
"Ok ma, no problem, e se gan" I went back to the car to take some cash. When I returned, I handed the money to her and left with ijeoma and her brother.
Ijeoma was just fifteen years old, but she is a very smart, beautiful and talented girl with her pride fully intact regardless of her situation.
I drove them to a nearby orphanage runned by a close relative of mine, ijeoma refused to go in while her brother wouldn't stop crying. I was confused, "what is it, don't you like this place, but it's better than sleeping in the streets, you will get a bed and food everyday. You won't have to steal, everything you need is in there".
"Please, just take us back to where you found us, we don't want to stay here" ijeoma said firmly.
"So you prefer roaming the streets than having a home, I don't understand, you prefer parading your brother in the streets, till he gets into trouble again. Who do you think will save you then, you just got lucky today".
"Just take us to a place I can find a job, anything that will keep us busy will be appreciated", I stared at her, could this girl be having psychological issues, why would she want the hard life where she would have to work endlessly to provide a meal, over the life where everything is provided already.
"At your age, you can't get a job easily and by the way, what sort of job are you looking for?".
"Anything, my nanny taught me how to clean and cook, I can do that perfectly".
"You have a nanny"I raised an eyebrow at her.
"Had, she no longer works for us" she said dismissively not wishing to discuss the topic any further. An idea popped into my head.
"Am actually in need of a house help, if you are interested I can hire you, I will provide food and shelter for you and your brother but there is a condition, just one condition."
"What condition?", She sat up straight, interested in the conversation.
"No secrets, you tell me everything, where you guys are from, how you ended up on the streets and where I can find your parents. Everything!!!!, I want to hear it all."
"You can't find them, you can't find my parents, it's impossible."
"Try me, I know people all over the country, one phone call and I can locate them but I can only do that as long as they are within this country."
"Very simple, they are not far from here, a street called the land of the dead" she stood up and headed towards the car. It took a few minutes before I could realize the joke in her words, which was actually pretty slow for me.
"What a funny way to be sarcastic" I said joining her beside the car. Throughout the drive back home, ijeoma told me how she lost her wealthy parents in a car accident, then the family took over the house and since their Grandma, the only person that liked them in the family died a few days after, they got kicked out of the house, with nothing but the clothes they were wearing that day. They lived in ogun State but after the incident they boarded a bus headed for Lagos, and ended up here.
Ijeoma, spent most of her free time after school cleaning the house, she wouldn't even entertain the idea of just freedom, so hell bent on paying me back someday for sending her and her brother who I later discovered is called peter, back to school. She could really cook and clean, like she is really good at it, for a girl her age, I was flabbergasted.
Right from the day I informed mom of taking ijeoma and Peter in, she was against it, "you know nothing on the origins of these children, yet you bring them under your roof, do you know how dangerous that is and in Lagos of all places" mom yelled through the phone, I kept the phone at arm's length to prevent her from we damaging my ear drums.
"How harmless can a fifteen and ten years old be? Oh come off it mom, what kind of threat could they possibly........."
Mom cut me off, "they could be part of a robbery gang, sent to infiltrate your house and spy or maybe they just have bad karma, maybe the karma was responsible for the death of their parents, do you want that kind of karma to rub off on you" mom's voice sounded pitiful over the phone, I burst out laughing. "Oh God, just listen to yourself, do you realize how hysterical you sound right now, too much American movies mom, what kind of robber would waste such a plan on my house, when they could use it on wealthy people or banks and please cut the karma nonsense, you always taught us to help those in need, that's what am doing now mom".
"I know my dear, but just be careful and prayerful about it all", just like that ijeoma and Peter ended up at my place.
