Challenging Roads

***

Iyanu's POV 

My phone rings on the bedside table. I groan in annoyance. 

Who's this, this early morning ! 

"Hello?" I answer in my croaky voice.

"Iyanu!!!" A woman screams at me through the speakers "Iyanu can you hear me?"

"Ah!" I jolt up. All traces of sleep leaving my body. I immediately check the contact, it's Mrs Ajesola, our pastor's wife or Mama as we address her in church.

"Iyanu. You are sleeping while your father is here. Ah may God deliver you from your selfish ways. Better come and carry your father out of my garden" and with that she ends the call.

"Oh oh oh!!" I shout in annoyance "which kain Wahala be dis? Na me send am message ( what kind of trouble is this? Am I the one that made him do it?)"

I grudgingly wear my slippers still in my pyjamas and grab the key as I exit the house. We live in a duplex guarded by a security officer.

"Good morning aunty " Ayo does a salute

"Good morning Ayo." I walk past him as he opens the gate. 

"I no see oga last night o. Abi em dey house? (I didn't see Sir last night. Is it that he's in the house?)" Ayo asks.

"Ayo follow me" I ignore his question "please lock the gate from outside "

Ayo quietly obeys 

I proceed towards my pastors house two blocks away. As we reach our destination, there laying in the grass is my father in stained clothing and a torn shirt. 

"Ah oga! " Ayo shouts and hurries to pick him up. 

My dad is barely conscious. Ayo carries him on his back and begins running towards our compound. A tear drop falls from my eye. 

Why am I cursed with such a father?

Ayo places him on his bed when we enter the house. I immediately change my father's clothes to a fresh shirt and I leave the trousers on. I exit to prepare some hang over soup. 

It's currently 6:45, and classes are scheduled to start by 8. I need to be at school before 7:30; otherwise, I'll face punishment for arriving late.

I finish preparing the food within ten minutes. Plating the meal, I carefully carry a tray containing a glass of water and painkillers to serve him in bed. As I open the door, I see my father fully awake, massaging his head, presumably trying to alleviate his headache.

I place the tray on his bedside table.

"Daddy, I've prepared soup for you," I call for his attention.

He briefly glances at me and then picks up the glass of water. I feel a sense of accomplishment that he's cooperating without much persuasion. However, he unexpectedly throws the cup at me. Fortunately, it narrowly misses me by a few inches. Fear courses through me, sending shivers down my spine. Oh no!

He proceeds to take the soup and pour it onto the wooden floor. He licks his fingers and spits on the mess.

As he lies back down, he bursts into laughter.

"I didn't even ask her to do it, and she..." He laughs again, cutting himself short. "Baby, why don't you bring me a glass of water? I won't resort to using my saliva to take the medicine."

I remain frozen in shock, my eyes widening in disbelief. What in the world...

"Oh, sorry. I thought you were your foolish mother," he chuckles once more. Sometimes I question if he's mentally unwell.

A small whimper escapes me.

His laughter subsides, and he studies me intently. "What? Don't cry. It's just a careless mistake. It's not my fault that you bear such a striking resemblance to that deceitful woman."

I furrow my brows, silently hurling curses at him in my thoughts.

"Why are you just standing there? Fetch me a glass of water!" He raises his voice, then adds, "And clean up this mess."

**

Let's just say I arrived at the junction by 7:45. The keke driver (tricycle driver) was arguing with nearly everyone on the road: fellow keke drivers, hawkers, and even motorcycle riders.

I rushed through the gates by 8:10. I was late. Again.

A corper (a graduate currently serving in the youth community service program), who was acting as an assistant teacher (I'm assuming he was the teacher on duty), instructed me to rake the dead leaves at the base of a tree.

The hallways were empty except for the cleaning lady who was struggling with a jammed door.

Approaching my class, SS2 arts, I took a deep breath, hoping my teacher wouldn't berate me.

Upon opening the door, I was met with Mr. Adebisi attempting to draw what seemed like "the map of Nigeria" - though it looked more like an amoeba or a ball of fufu. It was a geography class, and Mr. Adebisi had a reputation for being a bit of a bully. If he liked you, you were in luck, but if he disliked you, well, tough luck. Unfortunately, he fell into the latter category when it came to me.

I struggled in geography and was often late, thanks to his class being the first period. There was also the incident where I accidentally nicked his finger with a razor. To be fair, he had snatched it from my hand. I hadn't done much more than hold the razor.

Well, here goes nothing.

"Adewumi! Late again! Do you see yourself? When will you change?" Mr. Adebisi interrupted his drawing. "It's your type that ends up doing POS work. Show some seriousness. What do you have to say for yourself?"

I remained silent.

"See? Nothing. She has nothing to say," he shook his head. "Please leave that spot." With that, he returned to his work.

I hurriedly made my way to my seat, which was two rows from the back, all the way to the right when facing the class. As I walked past Nnena, my friend, I caught sight of a really cute new boy sitting beside her.

I didn't linger too long, not wanting to come across as creepy. Settling into my seat behind Nnena, I took out my book. Nnena handed me her notes to copy what I had missed.

I attempted to ask her about the new boy, but she blinked rapidly as a warning and mouthed "later." I nodded, understanding her message, and turned my attention to the front of the class. Mr. Adebisi was glaring at me.

"Latecomer, please pay attention," he adjusted his glasses. "John, answer the question I asked earlier."

---

"Phew! Finally, it's break time," Nnena turned her seat to face my desk, which was behind hers.

"I'm already so tired," I groaned.

"Sorry, girl. The day just-"

"My guy!" William, a classmate of mine, shouted as he greeted Stephen, another classmate, with a bro-hug.

"What's up?" Stephen greeted him with a wide smile. I rolled my eyes. Why were they so loud?

"Hey!" William finished greeting Stephen and noticed Nnena and me. "Fine girls!"

Nne and I immediately began packing our things. I glanced at the new boy; he was busy scribbling in a notebook.

As I got up to leave the class, William hurried over to our corner. Nnena quickly stretched out her foot to trip him.

He stumbled but managed to steady himself. "Nnena! NaNa, I'm warning you. Don't play around like this."

"Willie," Nnena put on a smile, "what are you talking about now?"

"Come on, don't lie. Tell me you didn't just stick your leg out for me."

"Ah, ah, Willie. It was a mistake. Calm down. I didn't know you were coming. At least look where you're stepping."

"Hmm! Nana! Nana! I warned you," he hissed at her, then turned to me with a different expression. "Fine girl, Iyanu. How are you? How was your night?"

"It was good," I managed a smile. I tried to sidestep him, but he halted me in my tracks.

"Ah, come on, you want to leave already? Let's chat for a bit," he grabbed my arm.

I stared him down. "William, I don't have the energy for this. Leave me alone. I'm tired and hungry. Let me go eat, please."

He released his grip. "Sorry. See you later."

"Yeah," I nodded and left the class with Nnena.

"He's so annoying" Nnenna says in distaste.

"He just doesn't know how to behave at certain times. He can see we are headed somewhere but he still chooses to stop us" I say

"I don't understand him at all"

"Don't bother trying to understand anything" Nnenna says "anyway, how was the weekend?"

"Boring" I roll my eyes "I just helped to organise the church for the Children's' day program that happened yesterday"

"Atleast you left your house" Nnenna pouts "I'm grounded"

"Grounded?" I stop in my tracks 

"Yes" she pulls on my arm to continue on our way to the cafeteria

"When did Naija parents start grounding?" I ask . Nigerian parents don't ground children. It's either you get whooped or punished.

Not leaving the house is a mandatory rule. Except you live in a communal neighbourhood where neighbour's are friendly and close with each other.

But in our neighbourhood, people mind their businesses so there's no neighbour to visit. It's strictly residential so there are no hang out spots close by.

"I don't know" she crosses her arms with a frown " when did this start? It's Hollywood that's influencing them. Too many western movies "

I laugh heartily " your old school parents. I find that hard to believe"

"I'm telling you, my folks watch Hollywood movies like it's the end of the world" 

"You're exaggerating" I smile

"What of your dad? What does he watch?" She nudges me with her shoulder

"Honestly..." the image of my drunk father watching football and movies with R-rated content flashes through my mind " mostly football"

"Football is a normal thing to watch. Apart from football"

"Hmm" I try to stop myself from tearing up. My eyes sting and I direct my gaze to the cafeteria door a few metres away.

Why can't I have a normal responsible father that would watch movies with me.

"Movies too. But British ones"

"Okay I see" she claps her hand together loudly and smiles at me "let's have a girls night this Friday. Your place"

"No" I immediately respond

"What? Why?"

"Not in the mood"

My dad always has his friends over on Friday nights. I can't let her come at that time.

"You're never in the mood" she mumbles " since the incident I haven't gone to your place"

I haven't allowed her to come because my dad is unpredictable.

"It's just... My dad doesn't really like people coming over as much after everything that happened "

I find a quick excuse.

"Okay"