Caro: “Doesn’t wolly money is come vely soon!” she would say whenever he started the rant about poverty and jobless.
One after he had gone for his usual job hunt, she decided to go to the bank to withdraw the remaining four thousand in her account. Precious wasn’t around to help out,
Caro: “I wiri jus’ got like dat!” she had concluded.
She had planned on using the money to buy groundnut to boil and start selling. Kalu might not buy that idea but she couldn’t watch them starve. On getting to the bank, the queue was long, the longest she had ever witnessed. To the box where withdrawal slips were kept,she picked one. Her writing wasn’t legible, there was chocolate lady who had just entered wearing a very awful smile with an eye blinding lipstick, pink colour.
Caro: “Chai, I should go an meet this one? Chimo, see make up. Tah, she no go sabi book,” she kept looking around, her eyes met with a tall handsome man who gave her smile, “Noo, dis one wiri be forrowin’ me alound!” finally,she decided to meet an elderly man and he helped her out with all she needed to fill.
For hours she stood on the queue then she felt pressed, she excused herself, informing the guy behind her and the lady in front. By the time she got back, someone was there already, Caro didn’t see the guy who was behind and the lady in front pretended not to even know Caro, she blanked her out by putting on head phones. Caro was very pissed and was ready to create a scene, all her eyes were on her when she yelled at the guy who took her place,
Caro: “Squeeze me,prease! Prease!! I wantu take my prace,” the guy hissed and told her,
The Guy: “just go back please,
Caro: “Back kawa? Does you know how many hours I have standing here o! enya, biko, I can’t go backer than this. You are now expect me to go and stand in front of your back? God forbid!” she snapped at him.
The whole bank was thrown into laughter, Caro didn’t mind. She took her rightful place and collected her money when it was her turn. The cashier while giving her cash was still smiling. The drama was the latest gist at the bank.
Kalu stood under the hot sun in a queue, they had come for screening at the ministry of Justice office opposite Eagle’s square. Kalu had being informed about the job days back; he had seen the advert on Caro’s phone. He left the house that day at about 6:30 am,
Caro: “Babi’m is not too earry?”
Kalu: “No, I don’t want to take chances! Take care you here?” he pecked her.
The traffic delayed him and he arrived exactly 7:30 but he was met by a crowd, “dem sleep for here?” he asked himself. The gate wasn’t opened until 9 am and when it was opened, they pushed and jabbed at one another. No one wanted to be the last. At the entrance of the administrative block a smallish boy with a tiny voice addressed them, they could hardly hear him. They murmured. Sadiq was the name on the ID card he wrapped around his neck,
Sadiq: “If you guys continue shouting, I will just leave to my office and no one will attend to you, “he said in the smallish voice then added, “you guys should remember that I am here to do my job and that’s why I’m here!”
Someone in the crowd screamed, “no bi your fault na!” the murmurings increase,the security personnel’s were roaming around the premises, ready for action. They were instructed to pick numbers and form a queue that was when the real struggle started. Kalu was number thirty eight and the names of the first ten people were called. Another officer came out, tall but slender and addressed them, he told them they were going on lunch break but the session would resume in thirty minutes time. Kalu was so hungry that his head ached, he bought biscuit for fifty naira and sixty naira soft drink, small bottle. That was what he could afford the remaining two hundred and fifty naira was for transportation. Kalu made friends with a guy,who came all the way from Kogi for the interview. They discussed all of things starting with football,Eneojo was his name, he was a Chelsea fan and Kalu argued with him. During the argument, they laughed and teased each other. Kalu who was a fan of America politics brought the Clinton and Trump debate. Eneojo with sarcasm said Trump had won his heart with a statement he made by saying anyone who had a disease and was dying should wait until November 8 after which they were free to die. Kalu laughed really hard.
Eneojo: “For that reason I’m all out for Trump!”
Shortly after they were called and it was the same jabbing and nudging. The interview finished at about six thirty: as they headed for the main road leaving the ministry’s premises,
Eneojo: “Jesus!” Eneojo cried, Kalu followed the direction he was looking and someone from the ministry’s building was throwing papers off its balcony to the bush at the back of the building. Someone cried,
Applicant1: “ Na our CV dem dey trowey o!”Kalu knew it was over of them weren’t going to get the job. Pissed off, they walked away.
Caro was just returning home by six thirty, her first day hawking groundnuts was good. She made one thousand five extra. Before getting home she stopped at the market, some minutes to six that was what delayed her. Ogbono soup with stock fish was Kalu’s favourite that was what she bought so they could eat with fufu.
Caro: “I want to preparing ogbono soup for my Karu,” she had said to Precious after which narrated her day was the bank incidence and hawking, Precious who had become her good friend laughed really hard.
Precious: “You won’t kill somebody oo!”
Kalu got Berger he had followed taxi known as ‘Along’. It was cheaper than a cab. At Berger the place was very crowded; all evenings were like that. Kalu followed the crowd in running after cars. They were all like mad men. Lucky enough he got the front seat, in the car he sighed for he was so tired, the driver tried racking up a gist with him but he wasn’t interested. He didn’t even know when sleep enveloped him.
Driver: “Bros we don reach o!” the driver tapped him and he dug his hands in the pockets but he couldn’t find his wallet or phone. He continued the search for five minutes and the driver gave him an impatient look. It seemed the phone and wallet was stolen during the car tussle.
Kalu: “Oh, my God! My phone o!”
Driver: “Na wetin?”
Kalu’s mind flew to Mr. Tanko how was he to get his number paying the driver was the
That night, Kalu was depressed. It had being a very awful day; the fruitless job, interview, the stolen wallet and the embarrassment at the park. On getting home that day, Caro had told him that the screen of her phone had got bad, she sat on it. And most of her contacts were on the phone not the Sim. Retrieving Tanko’s number was a mission impossible. That was Kalu’s pain.
Kalu: “What kind of bad luck is this eh?”he yelled.
Caro was sad too but she wasn’t the type that brood no matter what happened. Life was short so we should spend most of it being hopeful, that was her belief.
Caro: “Don’t worry,” she said in Igbo. He loved her for that charm; she had a way of rubbing it on him, “Remme bring your food!” she left for the food
Kalu: “Food?” he was shocked for they there was nothing at home before, “Hmm!”he sighed.
She brought the food. She told him of how she had started groundnut business and the profits made for the first day. He lost appetite. The feeling of an infidel, bounced on him, “I’m supposed to be fending for her not the other way round.” Tears stood in his eyes. It made him love fall so deeply in love, “I’ll never leave you for anything!” she smiled,
Caro: “Me too. I rove you veli much,Karu!” Kalu heaved a sigh of relief.
Aside the daily English training he has been conducting to improve Caro’s knowledge of English, Kalu thought of getting her lots of books including novels or helping her out of the country if possible (recession no gree). He thought of the needs to socialize in an environment where she only hears grammatically correct English in order to polish her better, as in with people that speak correctly.
Kalu: Afterall, it’s no big deal. Chinese and some other European people don’t speak good English and they see it as no big deal because it’s not their mother’s tongue. Why should Africans see it as stigma.. he thought. He also had a second thought that in Nigeria, when you get to a certain level, it is expected that you speak impeccable English especially when expected to be seen in public.
Questions: Do you think it’s extremely difficult to unlearn bad grammar after puberty? Do you think Reading will help Caro much either? Is Caro’s modelling signature still feasible after losing Mr Tanko’s Contacts by both parties?
… SEE Episode 15 Below (For Trending AdeLove Stories, Follow our Twitter HERE)
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