Episode 9
In Mercy hostel, our room was
on the ground floor; the last room before the back gate, which was almost
always locked. We lived in a self contain apartment, with a bathroom wide enough
to contain just one person per time and the kitchen was attached to a small corner
of the room, right beside the entrance, making it impossible to prepare a meal
without your neighbors having a whiff of it.
Being that orange was my best
color, the walls of our room were painted orange and grey, with a black rug,
spotted with tiny dots of orange to match. I had insisted on getting a black
plastic reading table and a white chair but it seemed impossible to find a
black plastic table in Awka, so we settled for a blue one.
The room lacked an inbuilt
wardrobe, so we mounted two wooden hangers, each to the extreme ends of the
room, and neatly arranged our boxes on both sides. Our mattress laid on the
floor, in between the boxes and the reading table was arranged to the wall, directly opposite the mattress and right in
between the entrance door and the bathroom door. Once a guest comes in, he is welcomed by the mattress. It a far cry from my home in Lagos but decent room for ‘jambites’
or anyone who did not have a lot of boxes like Ada and I did.
Florence’s moving in meant
that our almost choked-up room had to accommodate yet another box and human. If
I had my way, I would not have allowed Florence in, but by now, I am sure you
know how strong willed my darling, Ada can be.
We placed her box with the
other boxes, in front of the entrance door and now, our room was completely
choked up and all the fanciness we had initially created, useless. It was
either Ada didn’t notice this or she simply just chose to ignore it to avoid
any altercation between us.
Now Florence’s weirdness moved
past Ada’s story, to her spending over two hours taking her bath, remaining
naked after her shower for another hour, all in the name of creaming her delicate skin and waking up at midnight, every night, just to comb her weaves. When I asked
her what the deal was with combing her hair at such awkward hour, she said she
was an insomniac and always did that to keep herself busy.
The girl was weird and I could
not wait for her to get herself together and leave our lives.
Every time I bring up
conversations about her with Ada, she will say that I am paying her too much
attention, that I should let the girl be. So finally, I resorted to ignoring
her existence in my space. That was the only way I could stay without feeling
creeped out.
The first trouble happened one
faithful day, when Florence traveled to Enugu to see her parents:
It was a Friday morning and
our annoying Elements of Banking lecturer decided that his lecture be scheduled
for 7am that morning. He said he needed the extra hour to cover the curriculum.
We were always late for morning lectures but after the embarrassment we faced
the previous week, we knew never to go late for his lectures again. The man
literally insulted every breath in us. He called us disgusting, ugly and fake
because we grew up in Lagos and could not speak Igbo. He continually compared us to
a class mate of ours – a lady rumored to be his girlfriend –. It was one messy
experience we clearly did not want to relive.
As I hurriedly made up, I
heard Florence say,
“I have a strange feeling; I
can’t really explain it but I think I need to go home.”
I knew Ada was in the
bathroom, so she clearly was talking to me, but I totally ignored her. I was
not in the mood for her small talks this morning. In fact, I was not in the
mood for anybody’s small talks. All I wanted to do, was make-up and get to
school.
“Ahn ahn, Nkechi, you make it
very hard to be friends with you.” Florence said again.
“What am I supposed to say? Do
not go home? It is not my business if you want to go home or not, so I do not
see why you need my permission to do that.” I replied sarcastically.
She shook her head and
continued with her phone. Under normal circumstance, I would have felt bad
about the way I responded but this day wasn’t the day to care about anything or
anyone, talk less of Florence.
“Ada,” I called out, “I hope
you know that I will not wait a minute for you once I am done making up.” I
always said this every morning as I prepared for lecture, but always ended up
waiting for her.
“I am done already, I am just
waiting for my body to dry, because if I come outside like this now, you will
complain about the rug getting wet.” Ada responded.
“Woh! I do not care, sha
come out so we can leave here now.”
Ada walked in from the
bathroom, completely naked, dripping water down her body. She hated towels, she
says towels carry the most bacteria in the world and she did not want anything
messing up her skin.
Thirty-five minutes later and
we were on our way to school. I told Ada that Florence will be travelling to
Enugu that evening and that I had scheduled an overnight reading session with
my partners, Nneka and Ndidi, so she will be the only one at home. I suggested
that she spent the night at Kola’s but she refused, saying,
“Kola and I are having issues jor, plus I am happy I will be alone
tonight, I want to try to read something.”
“Then, you could join us at
Garba Square, so we could all just read together.”
“Join you and who? Those
annoying, Igbotic girls? Abeg go in
peace, you will meet me at home tomorrow morning.”
*************
5:00 AM the next morning,
Ada’s call woke me up. After reading into the night, at about 3:45am, we slept
off on the seats, awaiting dawn.
“Nkechi, I am finished, please
come back home now, please.”
“Ahn ahn, Ada, what is it and
why are you crying. You are scaring me, tell me what the matter is, please.”
“Just come home now, please, I
burnt the room.” Ada replied in haste.
“WHAT! YOU DID WHAT?” I
screamed.
“You see why I said you should
come home now. If you can be shouting like this, then what will she do?”
Before, I could get the chance
to ask her who she was referring to, she had dropped the call. I woke Ndidi up
to inform her that I needed to rush home.
“Babes it is still 5 AM, it is
not safe to go home by this time, everywhere is still dark and those boys can
rape you o.”, she replied, trying hard to focus.
“I know, but Ada says it is an
emergency.” I responded but she hissed as soon as the name left my mouth, then
went back to sleep. I wished she could just put aside her beef with Ada for
once and probably see me off, to the gate at least. That was clearly not happening,
so I packed up and found my way home.
As I stepped foot into my
hostel, I saw my lodge mates gathered in front of the lodge, heaving their
shoulders up and down as they asked each other rhetorical questions,
“How could she have done that?
What was she thinking? What kind of sleep was she sleeping? This is the most
foolish thing I have heard in my life. Ehya.”
At this point, I knew that
whatever had happened to Ada must have been serious but I still could not bring
myself to believing that she actually burnt our room. I mean, how could there
have been a burning room in the compound and everyone carelessly stood here
talking nonsense.
I ran straight to the room and
knocked hard on the metallic door, too worried to be bothered about my hand
hurting.
“Who is that?” Ada asked
clearly in fear.
“Nkechi, open up, what is the
matter?”
“Oh thank God.” I heard her
say in relief as she opened the door.
The foul smell of fire burn
oozed out of the room as I stepped in.
Our room was burnt, the rug,
the chair, the table, the mirror, the boxes.
“What happened here, Ada.” I
asked in fear.
“I burnt the room Nkechi, but
what is more important is that it was Florence’s box that was majorly
affected.” Ada said.
*************To be
continued*************
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