The sign of Friendship

Two months later, Elite Child Academic was set to vacate the first academic term. The Principal of the school announced the vacation on 16th December. Such a date was every teacher's earnest expectation. It was usually a day every student was expected to appreciate their teacher by presenting a gift to them. All the old teachers in Elite Child Academy believed in celebrating Christmas, on 25th December. So most of them would be in school, particularly Miss Ozioma, who considered the gifts as 'Christmas Gifts'. As it was customary in the school, students would freely present items as gifts to their teachers - a few of them would go out of their way to gift their teachers some money in big envelopes. 

Three days before today, Ndukwo had been preoccupied with what gift he would offer to Miss Ozioma. As a new student in the school, he was deeply concerned with the Christmas Gift. He would have simply dropped his form teacher as a beneficiary and chosen someone else, but her kindness stood out among other qualities that she possessed. She truly deserved a gift, an appreciative symbol for her kindness. People always said that her kind as a young lady was rare in the whole world and should be married to her age, but she was not. Perhaps she was waiting for the right man or God's time, Ndukwo thought. Maybe that right man or time had come but she was unaware that it had passed her. 

It was a new school day and very early in the morning. By this time, none of Ndukwo's fowls was in their coop. They had all gone out in search of food, except two hens that were incubating their eggs. But their lord, Ndukwo, had woken up from a very eventful night two hours past. He woke up covered in his sweat. It made her feel weak and sad. The sadness was deep-seated in him. And it caused him to feel instinctively offended and sad to see today, to meet his parents, to go to school or to see Miss Ozioma or anyone else. His sadness had every trace of nothing around him; he was inherently unhappy. 

Before today, Ndukwo had intended for his class teacher to go home with an electric stove. But today, this morning, he seemed to be wavering over his intention. He was no longer bothering himself any much, not minding at all whether presenting a gift was customary or not. Considering the reproach or the shame or the ugly meaning people attributed to his birth, nobody seemed to deserve any good thing from him, not even his parents. They watched their parents destroy his little finger and then ruin his existence. They had raised the remains of his already destroyed life as Ogbanje. If at all his spirit was unwilling to stay alive, to live in this wicked world, must it be taken forcedly? Wickedness! He seethed in anger, withdrawing into the upmost edge of his bed. And then he grabbed one of the pillows that scattered on his bed and leaned forward on it. As he leaned on the pillow, he began gazing at no particular object. His mind became beclouded with hot hate and deep anger. As a result, he got the intent of giving a gift out of his mind. Miss Ozioma or any other teachers were the same as his parents who were always trying to put their religious ideas into his head. He continued in deep thoughts, seething in great anger.

Unknown to Ndukwo, Miss Ozioma had called his father two days ago. She placed that call to discuss the Christmas Gift with Ndukwo's father. She went on talking to the reverend pastor about her Christmas Gift. "Any good gift, sir" she replied Ndukwo's father. That evening, she made sure she reached out to more three parents. Her requests were received positively. So the reverend pastor left home very early this morning to get a gift for his son's teacher, Miss Ozioma.

As Ndukwo woke up unwillingly. He went to join his parents for the usual family morning devotion in the sitting room. Every other morning, around five-thirty in the morning, his father would gather them, his wife, their only son and two other girls staying with them, and they would worship praise and pray to God Almighty, in Jesus' name. This morning, he discovered his father was not in the gathering. One of the girls who stayed with them was leading the worship when he joined. So he decided not to ask his mother about the whereabouts of his father until the end of their devotion.

Although Ndukwo stood there with his people, his voice was out of hearing; it had gradually died down. His entire being, like in a daydream, had travelled very far and settled in the wild. There were strange things like humans, both old and young, talking to him in an accent he could not understand. The white lines on their faces, on their hands and their legs and their sonorous voices gave the environment a terrifying look. He continued to strain his ears trying to understand their rants and their expressions, to no avail. And as he ended up struggling with those wild beings, he unknowingly threw himself on the floor and hurt himself. 

It was not the first time, Ndukwo would behave that strangely, not even the second, third or fourth. Whenever that boy acted that strangely, his parents, particularly his father, often presumed he was being rid of unclean spirit by the power of the 'Holy Spirit'. After a while, his father would then lay his holy right hand on Ndukwo's forehead and his spirit would rest. This time around, his father was away. There was no one with such a holy hand that could calm Ndukwo's restive spirit; so they watched the boy struggling vehemently and endlessly

The laying of hand by Ndukwo's father was misconstrued. When Ndukwo travelled beyond into the wild and his father's hand laid on any of his body parts, it usually disturbed Ndukwo's meeting with the wild. It was this disturbance that often ceased the struggle and consequently put him to rest. But his ignoramus mother alongside the girls watched the boy as he battled with the unknown. She quickly died her husband who told her to lay her hand on the boy's forehead. That was how Ndukwo's spirit rested into a very deep sleep.

His mother with the help of the girls carried the boy's unconscious body and walked straight to his room. He let him down on his bed and stood there for a while. Many thoughts filled her worried mind and he sat on the bed with half of his buttocks. Supposed one day Ndukwo threw himself as usual and could not be revived by the laying of hand. Would it she not become childless henceforth? She forbade that thought. "Tufia," she said and then crossed her right hand over her head four times. "Tufia", she said again and then spat out spittle in the room. A cool shudder ran down her bowels as she looked at the boy's face. Suddenly there was goosebumps stood out on every body part. She managed to stand and walked out in fear and sorrow.

Two hours later, Ndukwo was awake. He felt ensuing headaches and tiredness sweeping through his head and his whole body. He sat up and inclined his head towards the headboard of his bed. He held his duvet tightly and then pulled it up to his chest level. The pulling was useless, for it got nowhere close to his chest level; he had lost the energy needed to pull the duvet. Then he began to guess what time it might be that morning. His head was aching yet he persevered to no avail. 

 It was eleven past seven - that was what time he discovered from his Android phone a few minutes ago. While in bed, he turned to take the cup of water on the bedside table but he discovered the android phone was beaming brightly. He managed to lean towards the phone and picked it up with his right hand. He examined what had caused the beam. It was a message from Iyabo; she used her father's phone to deliver that message.

Ndukwo opened the message read through the short sentences and smiled with difficulty. He found the message to be kind and interesting. Throughout his shameful life, he had never felt this happiness before. He had never felt loved by someone, let alone an opposite peer. All that he received from his father, his mother, his neighbourhood or Miss Ozioma were discussions about whether he was or not Ogbanje. He was reading through the message the third time and he sensed somewhat power assuming his utmost part. He got out of bed still holding, reading the message, and then moved towards the wardrobe. He had wanted to take out his uniform from the wardrobe but he paused, examining each lettered word of the message. He pondered over the intriguing intent of their meaning and the message entirely. "She loves me", he mumbled childishly as his lips were quivering.

Ndukwo bent and picked up a pen and a small book that he called a diary. He walked straight away to his study table. He intended to write down a few things about the message that he received from Iyabo. He had hardly put pen to book when his mother repeatedly knocked on the door of his room. She assumed the boy was sick and deep asleep. How then was the door bolted from inside? Who did it? She feared. And so she worriedly knocked again. This time around, the knock was vehemently persistent; so he paused and went to answer the door. 

Seeing the boy, the worried woman was speechless. She placed her hand on Ndukwo's neck, forehead and shoulders. She did not say any words. She heaved a heavy sigh and turned to a girl. The girl was one of two girls staying with them. Her name was Nneamaka, meaning mother is beautiful. She was five years younger than Ndukwo. She was greatly fair and promising, and she often showed readiness to do chores. As a young girl, she had gained a prominent role in their church; during one particular church service, she sang with somewhat prowess and one of their church members took it up to send her through school, up to music school. But the other girl was said to be different. She was lazy and incapable of doing anything well. Her name was Chidinma, meaning God is good. Ndukwo's mother always had one problem or another with her daily. The woman always complained to her husband that she could not continue to put up with Chidinma's laziness. These girls were adopted into the family by Ndukwo's parents. Ndukwo was eleven when the girls became their family members. And now they had spent three years living with the new family.

"He is back," said the woman, not anticipating any greeting. "You have to come and see him," she added.

"My father?" Ndukwo wanted to be sure.

"No, not your father," she snapped and Nneamama chuckled, "it's my father, who is decaying in the grave," she mimicked and continued lousily. "Come quickly, he would leave soon."

"But, mama."

"But what? What is it, Ndukwo?"

"Let me dress up first."

"No, this boy. He would leave and you won't see him after you are dressed up. You have to come now he is around and see him."

"Please, mama."

"You business. You're just self-willed. I can't take it and I am not ready to tell my husband to wait for you, Ndukwo."

"Thank you, mama. I am going to be quick."

"Thank your big head. You're playing," she said jokingly.

Ndukwo's mother left and joined her husband in their dining room. Ndukwo did not delay. He pooed, bathed, creamed and dressed up in his school uniform. He met them in the dining room and joined in breakfast: rice with stew, chicken, boiled eggs and chicken. In a few minutes, he was done eating. He took enough water, rinsed his mouth and swallowed. He took another little water, gargled some water in his mouth and then swallowed the second time. He pushed back the dining chair he was sitting in and announced his leave. 

"Are you filled, Ndukwo?" his mother asked. 

He nodded a reply without a word. 

"Go to my room", his father began to say, "you shall see some gift on the bed. Bring them here" 

Ndukwo obeyed and his obedience landed him to a surprise. He returned to the dining room carrying a beautiful sizable new black Aba school bag and an electric stove. He thought his father bought him another school bag. He wanted to question the need for that bag since he knew the one which he used at school was not worn out.

"That bag is also a gift," said his father.

"A gift?" Ndukwo asked in amazement.

"Yes, a gift. Not for your class teacher. You have to give it to your best friend in your school. You must involve your teacher as you present the bag as a gift to your best friend."

"But I don't have any best friend, papa."

"Then you have to choose one before you get to the school," said his mother. "Friendship is good. It is like a strength to a person who keeps it, and those who do not keep friendship are like yam stems without any extension sticks. So keeping friendship is right."

"Yes, Ndukwo. You have to keep friendship," his father said. "Your mother and I have discussed the importance of your friendship in the Lord. Choose your best friend and give him or her the school bag," his father added.

"Come here, my boy," said his mother. She noticed the boy was in a blue devils despite the gifts that his father bought. "You have to be happy for me, for us. Be happy for once, Ndukwo! Your father and I have been trying to keep you up in every ability. Why can't you be happy, my boy? Please, Ndukwo. Please!" 

She concluded in sudden tears and began crying. Her last words pushed out the tears. Ndukwo remained motionless seeing his mother crying and sobbing bitterly while he was still in her trembling grips. Gradually she released her grip and left the boy alone.

"Go, Ndukwo," his mother told him off. "I have had enough anguish raising you. I have found no peace..."

"Enough, honey! It is alright!" Ndukwo's father interrupted. His wife paused and continued sobbing. "You have to start going, Ndukwo. You are now late to school."

Ndukwo was beaming with depression when he left his parents. The entrance gate was where he could not hold back the ongoing emotional rousing. He stopped there and cried, sobbing deeply. His heart swelled up, and then down, in very quick intervals. In what seemed like fifteen minutes, he was there all alone. He helped himself put through, a bit alright. He flung his bag to his back, and there was luckily a Keke, or an autorickshaw plying along the street that time. He waved at the driver who eventually pulled over for him to board.

* * * * * * * *

Students and teachers were already in school. A few students had received their envelopes, which contained the results and examination papers, and were already leaving the school. Very few of them were crying. Perhaps their results were bad. Ndukwo did not mind these students or their attitude. He simply walked past them, heading towards his classroom. From afar off, he saw Iyabo at the doorjamb of the class and he stopped walking, waiting for her. He sweat profusely carrying the new school, his school bag and the electric stove.

 Iyabo knew Ndukwo was waiting for her. She knew the boy had read the letter which she sent him. She saw items Ndukwo bore to himself, that they were too much on him. So she ran from the class doorpost to meet her new friend. 

"Let me help you," she requested.

"Thank you Iyabo" he obliges. He felt relieved of heaviness and then thanked Iyabo another time. 

"You're late, Ndukwo," Iyabo began to say. "What kept you so long?"

Ndukwo did not answer that question. She would not understand if he had told her what kept him so long. But the girl was persistent.

"I am talking to you, Ndukwo. What kept you back at home?"

"Nothing serious" he managed to say. "I... I am. I mean, I was waiting for my father."

"Oh, your father! How is he faring?"

"He is fine."

They continued talking freely as they walked towards their classroom. When they arrived, Ndukwo realized that his classmates were already seated, waiting for Miss Ozioma as she was wrapping some result sheets in different envelopes. Each sheet of paper represented a student's academic result. Every boy and girl in that room was curious about the result. At every point in the room, there were hysterical faces of students and their ferocious eyes tempting to foresee the end of their great anticipation. Miss Ozioma on the other hand was rounded up with numerous gifts that day. She was truly blissful, and it was written on her face this morning. The students could see her smiling every so often.

She saw Ndukwo with Iyabo walking in quickly and quietly. All eyes were on them as they walked shoulder to shoulder like a man and woman proceeding the aisle for matrimonial blessings from a priest. Miss Ozioma herself was aware of the friendliness ensuing between Ndukwo and Iyabo. In her words, she called it 'gemutlichkeit', meaning sincere affection and kindness. Noticing the attention that the boy and his friend, Iyabo, were drawing, Miss Ozioma broke it by stopping him.

"Why are you late, Ndukwo?" Miss Ozioma asked. By that time, it was already 10:55 a.m.

Ndukwo did not answer that question. He kept quiet to that question. He did not know how to say to his teacher that he trekked to school. If he had said that he trekked to school, Miss Ozioma would not have believed him, because she knew Ndukwo's father had a car. She knew certainly that his father often drove him to school. He thought about this and decided to remain quiet. To Miss Ozioma, Ndukwo would have become a 'big liar' if he had said that he trekked to school.

Truly, Ndukwo trekked to school. When the driver finally pulled over for Ndukwo to board, there was a disagreement about what fare the driver wanted. After a short pleading, the driver did not oblige. He simply zoomed along. Remembering this rejection, his mind retrospected and some taint of depression swept through his mind. He stood still gaping at his form teacher. No matter how she pressed him, he was not going to tell it to her, because she would not believe it. No one, only but Iyabo, in this world, would ever believe his own story. The only believable story was the series of his birth explaining how he became Ogbanje. He was deeply engrossed with thought until he seemed to murmuring something inaudible.

"What are you saying, Ndukwo," asked Miss Ozioma.

"Nothing ma," he said, facing the floor.

Meanwhile, he had not tried lying to anyone. His father had taught him a lesson: Anyone who lied had no integrity. There was no honour in lying to people. We must learn to be truthful no matter the situation. Ndukwo grew up with that lesson and had to keep it up.

"This is my gift to you," Ndukwo added, stretching forth the electric stove. He hovered nervously in front of Miss Ozioma.

"Thank you, Ndukwo," Miss Ozioma appreciated. A gift was the prime of every teacher today. Teachers could pardon punishable offences so long a gift was offered to them. That was the reason why Miss Ozioma did not talk about Ndukwo's late coming any more. She had quickly forgiven him.

"Come here, boy," she said to Ndukwo, but he did not move an inch. He stood motionlessly. Rather Miss Ozioma got out of his table and went to the obstinate boy. She embraced him and said, "Extend my regards to parents," she added.

"Whose is this bag?" Miss Ozioma asked him, seeing the school bag with him.

"It is mine" the boy mumbled indifferently. "My father bought it," he added with his head bowing.

"You can go back to your seat," she said and turned to the class and announced: "Start coming for your result according to your class number".

Ndukwo got his result. In the class register number, he was twenty-fourth. The result was enclosed in a big brown envelope which contained other papers like his exam papers and newsletter for that term and the next. He opened it and saw the result. It was an excellent result! He would not spend any time staying in the school. As soon as he got his result, he was expected to come home. That was the instruction he received from his parents.

Ndukwo must see Iyabo before he leaves the school. As he stepped out of the class, heading towards the school gate, he tried straining his eyes into different directions to catch sight of the girl or anybody resembling her. On getting to the door of the second classroom away from his, there suddenly came the concave palms blindfolding him temporarily. He felt the softness of the palms, the freshness of breath and the sharpness of two fleshy pointed balls pressing endlessly on his back. He knew it was Iyabo. Then he pulls her powerfully in front of him. She came and stood very closely, face to face. There was some magnetic force pulling them closer and closer like two people ready to kiss each other. But there was a contrary force that pulled them apart. They stood still momentarily in silence. But after a long while, Ndukwo broke.

"Iyabo, this bag is for you," he said. "I saw your message this morning and I was really happy reading it. In my life, I can't remember the moment I felt happiness, not once. But that morning I saw your message, I was filled with a great feeling of happiness. It made me hopeful of what life holds for me and you too. I..., I...," he paused, trying to pronounce a particularly strong word deep down inside of him. "I appreciate you and your being around me. Can you be my friend, Iyabo?"

Hot sweat covered his whole body. He had never felt that way in his life. He was waiting for the girl to say something but stood there surprised. She too was utterly tongue-tied. But when she finally spoke, it was accompanied with tears.

"Thank you..." She cried. "Thank you very much. I least expected this gift from you." 

Somehow she inclined her head towards Ndukwo's right shoulder as though she was trying to whisper something. Her little growing nipples pressed on the boy and he felt them softly. He pulled her away and made her stand on her own.

"Iyabo, have to start going home now," Ndukwo said, already walking towards the school gate. She stopped him.

"Wait Ndu," she endeared him, for that was the name that she always called. Ndukwo stopped and she came to him and said, "I want to follow."

"Follow me?"

"Yes, I do. Do you think is bad?"

"No, I didn't say so. Humm... It is okay."

"Thank you," she said and they walked on.

Ndukwo and his best friend were a few steps closer to the school gate. The gatekeeper had left the gate wide open because he was eating his breakfast around ten that morning and he did not want a disturbance from any student or anyone else. "It is too early for that," he would always say. At this particular time, the early morning sun was up everywhere in the school compound. Very soon it would disappear as if it had gone to visit any of the residential compounds next to the school. In a later time, its glory shone friendly, dimmer and dimmer in that interval. It was in this dim sunshine that students were leaving the school compound freely. And Ndukwo with Iyabo was a few steps close to the school gate. 

He was elated. He had seen his result. He was in the first position of the class. His academic performance was ninety-three per cent; that was no new achievement to him. He had always been in the first position in his class since he joined Elite Child Academy. He was twenty-five per cent higher than the second position in his class - that was the only thing which made him happy. While he walked along with Iyabo, he saw some boys from Jss 2. They were three friends in the same class. They stopped Ndukwo particularly and burst out laughing ridiculously. He had wanted to join them, believing that their laughter meant something friendly. But he held it back. He saw that these boys seemed overly serious in their laughter and he could not put up with it. They continued laughing, pointing at his left hand, which had the half little finger. He tried ignoring their laughter by walking past them, but they blocked his way. Every attempt to avoid these troublesome young students proved abortive. 

"What do you want, seniors?" Iyabo intervened. Rather than answering that question, those boys continued in their laughter.

"Can you get out of here?" Iyabo said annoyingly, but the boys were unyielding. "I shall report you to the principal," she added and turned, heading to the principal's office.

The boys did not regard Iyabo's going to the principal. They seriously continued ridiculing Ndukwo. And as they laughed at him, still pointing to his half little finger, his anger grew up. His fists clenched fiercely. His head swelled up with rage as he listened and watched these senior students who were nothing much taller than him. He wished they had not mentioned that word, but they did. Ekwensu the devil took preeminence control and made one of the boys call him Ogbanje. That word alone could pull down heavenly wrath. The whole world stood on Ndukwo's head. Everywhere was still. His left hand trembled powerfully, and it was lifted high and then descended heavily on the neck of the boy that called him name. The boy went down slowly and immediately. Ndukwo could not believe his eyes, how very easily the fight ended. The other boys stood, mopping in great amazement. 'You have killed a student. Run! Run for your life!' A wild voice informed him; it was fear in his heart. The fear that he had killed a fellow greatly enveloped him.

How Ndukwo left the school premises could not be explained by anyone. Those students who were around when the incident happened, simply said that he disappeared, for none of them knew how he left the school gate. That was students' reports seeing the principal with Iyabo around. He arrived too late with a girl. The incident had happened before they arrived at the locale. By and by, a few teachers and students gathered, and serious talking ensued. The poor in spirit among them started crying and others were making frantic decisions to save the dying boy.

"How did it happen" asked the principal.

"Now!" two students answered confusedly - they were the other two students mocking Ndukwo.

"When did it happen" the principal asked another time.

The same boys answered, "Now!"

The principal knew that the two students were utterly confused; so he left them alone. He ordered the boy to be taken to a nearby hospital. As he was eager to know how the incident happened, he turned round looking for Iyabo. But the little girl was nowhere in the school; she had quickly left the locale as soon as she saw the dying boy on the ground. The girl's disappearance maddened him more. So he began to wonder how such a little boy could have acted so violently that he brought down a fellow student. But how sudden was his leaving? How powerful? How to manage? He wondered crazily and forced every student and teacher out of the school premises. "That boy's sudden disappearance", he was saying to himself "led credence to the fact that there must be something strange about him".