The Brilliant Girl
"Good afternoon, father,’’ Rolake greeted, genuflecting before a day-dreaming Wole, who took no notice of her at all.
She looked weary and her face glistened with sweat. That hot afternoon, she had trekked the long distance from her school in Bamibola village. It wasn’t a new experience though. For the past four years, when she was only eight, she had been covering the three mile journey with her feet. But before that, when she first started schooling at the age of six, Wole knew it would be too stressful for her to trek such a long distance at that tender age. So, he would take her to school in the morning before going to his farm. And would go and pick her up after the school closing hours. Like a huge bangle of beads on the neck of a chief, he would put her around his neck. Rolake enjoyed riding on her human-horse so much; not knowing her human-horse was going through some severe pain or stress.
But fortunately for Wole, he was relieved qof such cumbersome human-horse tasks when Rolake became seven, and had gotten promoted to primary two. There were some pupils of her age-grade who attended the same school with her and walked under the mentorship of some bigger pupils. Among the young pupils were her classmates: Kunle and Lola. Wole quickly joined Rolake with them. He would give the bigger pupils some token amount of money to motivate them in looking after her very well. Perhaps, that won’t make them think of bullying her at all.
Now in primary six; she was a very brilliant, clever and pretty girl. She was voted the neatest girl in the school many times. No exams or tests were conducted in her class, Rolake was sure to come out as the best pupil. Due to her neatness, brilliant and much interest in science subjects, she was selected as the Health Prefect, a much revered post in the school by the Headmaster, teachers and pupils.
"Good afternoon, father,’’ Rolake greeted again, louder this time, "I’m back, father!’’
Wole was far-away in thoughts. He didn’t hear his daughter’s greetings. On the other hand, Rolake was shocked to see Wole sitting down on a wooden stool in front of the hut, still wearing his ragged farm clothes, looking so woe-begotten. It wasn’t part of Wole’s manners to dress that way after returning from the farm. He was a very neat man and had injected the spirit into Rolake. Though he had not more than three pairs of dresses, he used to make sure they’re always washed and sparkling clean. At all, he wasn’t aware of Rolake’s presence besides him, greeting.
"Father…father…’’ Rolake said loudly, tapping Wole on the shoulder. He jerked-up on his seat; his eyes were red like someone who was struggling with a stubborn slumber.
"Oh …Oh you’re back, my lovely daughter,’’ Wole gasped-out. His hands stretch out, and parted Rolake’s dark, neatly combed and scissors trimmed short hair; trimmed by him the previous weekend.
When Rolake was in Primary three, many of her classmates would tease her concerning the unprofessional haircut Wole used to give her. They used to call her "fadageri’’ meaning "someone who has her haircut using a machete.’’
After every haircut, Rolake’s head would look like a coconut whose hair was nonchalantly removed. Rolake didn’t see the taunting nickname as an insult or mockery; she would laugh and playfully ran after anyone who called her so. But the day Wole heard Kunle, the son of Alade called her so, it infuriated him so much. He almost beat up the boy out of anger if not for the intervention of some passers-by.
Before the chickens went to roost that day, the news of the fracas had gotten to Chief Alade in the village centre where he was drinking palm-wine. He was very upset that Wole attempted to beat his son. So, promptly, he had sent for his servants and instructed them to go to Wole’s house and beat him up. But with timely intervention of his fellow chiefs like Ashamo, Lola’s father, Ashamo had stopped his servants from going to fight Wole.
Even though Wole hadn’t learned barbing before, he decided to have Rolake’s haircut because the only barber in the village, Oriyomi, charged too costly prices. Few days after Wole had seen Kunle called Rolake fadageri, he had decided to learn barbing from Oriyomi without his knowledge. How was Wole able to do that?
He would go to the barber’s shop, pretending to have come for his haircut and wait for other customers to have their haircut first. After three times of secretly understudying the professional barber, Wole became good at barbing, too. Though not good enough to be called a professional, he could cut a child’s hair, leaving only unnoticeable discrepancies.
Since Wole started barbing Rolake’s hair after the brief training, nobody mocked her haircut anymore. They thought she had started visiting Oriyomi’s shop for her haircut, not knowing it was Wole who had upgraded his barbing skills.
"Yes, father, thank you,’’ Rolake replied Wole, rising-up from her knees.
"How was school today?’’ Wole asked, wiping his eyes with his index finger. His eyes were blurred as if he just woken up from deep sleep, even though he wasn’t sleeping.
"It was fine. Hope farm was good today, father?’’
"Everything went well. We give all thanks to Olodumare, the creator of everything,’’ Wole said, absentmindedly.
"But father, your eyes are sad…’’ Rolake said insistently. She knew everything was far from being alright. It was writing boldly all over him.
"Hmmm…" Wole sighed heavily, interrupting Rolake’s talk. He always found it hard to hide most things from his only companion. "I’m just pondering over your school fees, my compassionate daughter.’’
"You mean my Common Entrance Examination fee?’’
"Yes, if that is what you call it. My pockets are very dry this time around. I’ve no single dime anywhere,’’ Wole said, heaving deeply again. Hiis mind suddenly drifting away from Rolake. He began to think aloud. "Rain came at the right time, the Sun also was moderate. The weather was the best for farming; even the dumbest farmer knew that. Then, I laboured so hard to clear the bushes in my farmland and made big heaps and planted my seed crops like other farmers. When it was time for the removing of unwanted grasses from my farm, I did it without hesitation. When the harvesting period set in, to my greatest horror, the farm produced low yields, not enough to be sold in the market. Even the yam seedlings I’d planted, hoping that it would yield robust tubers, I wonder if it’s evil spirits that had eaten them off the heaps. We only got tiny ones like middle fingers from the farm. Meanwhile, when my fellow farmers were smiling to the market; I just sat watching, my hands clasped between my thighs hopelessly like a lazy man.’’
Wole paused, staring into vacancy. His voice was suddenly raised in frustration. "I don’t know how I’ve offended Olodumare! He took my beloved wife away. As if that wasn’t enough sorrow, he refuses to give me enough means to take care of the only child she had left behind. If I’m a lazy type I wouldn’t blame the creator at all…’’
"Oh no, father,’’ Rolake burrowed into her father's lamentation, "we can’t blame Olodumare for anything. He owns the past, the presence and the future.’’
Wole stared at Rolake, his jaw dropped in great amazement as the little girl was talking, in a mature way.
"If the money is not available now,’’ Rolake continued, "it can be more than enough in the future. We have to believe nothing happens without reasons. Though the present condition is so pathetic, thinking won’t help it. My science teacher says too much thinking damages the heart. Let’s put our trust in the creator. I belief he doesn’t forget us and would provide the money at the most vital time.’’
Wole sighed deeply, tried to recollect and calm himself down. Supporting his cheek with her left palm, he was silently gazing at the young girl with great awareness boldly written all over his face. He knew her daughter was much more clever than her years, but what she said that afternoon can only be expected from a wise adult. He thought maybe Alake’s spirit had spoken through her, he thought. She took after Alake so much, even with her witty talks.
"Perhaps,’’ Rolake continues, sensing that her father was still silent, swimming in sad thoughts. She wanted to totally cheer him up. "I could skip school for a week or two to help some farmers harvest their ripened peppers and tomatoes. I hope the money they shall pay me shall be enough for my school fee…’’
"Never!’’ Wole exclaimed, having hopeful looks now. ‘’My only daughter shall never labour in the farm of anyone, not when I’m still breathing! I shall make sure your school fee is paid before the giving date lapse. Don’t worry, my princess.’’
"Thank you father,’’ Rolake said, smiling. "But how are you going to get the money now?’’
"I just told you not to worry my daughter. I shall get the money by any good means as soon as possible.’’
Rolake wanted to say something to keep her father’s hope more alive. And not to bother him with more questions, concerning the school fee. She said: "Thank you father, I promise to always be a good daughter to you. I promise to never let you down at any time. May the creator make you reap the fruit of your labour over me.’’
"Ase OOO, my daughter!’’ Wole’s face brighten up now. "May all your good dreams come to past, too. Now, go and take your lunch from the kitchen. I have brought one of your favourite meals from the farm, roasted yam. Make sure you take enough palm-oil, some fresh pepper and little salt to go with it.’’
"I’m very grateful, father. I shall fetch your bathing water to the bathroom first before eating my food.’’
"No! Our people say food is a king and shouldn’t be kept waiting. Go eat your food first.’’
Rolake hesitated.
He added, "go now, good daughter.’’
After Rolake’s departure, Wole was smiling, ruminating over her consolation. The 12 years old girl meant everything to him, he thought.
Rolake was elated on her way towards the kitchen, seeing her father’s face full of hopes. She was having hopeful smiles as she took her lunch.
In the evening of the same day, Wole, who had taken his bath and got dressed up, was making his way out of his hut in great enthusiasm. He’d devised an idea to get Rolake’s school fees paid before the eleventh hour. Yes! A good idea has sprouted in his mind. He would borrow money from Chief Alade and pay back during next season's crop harvest period or work on his farm to supplement for the loan if he can’t wait for next season. Though Alade wasn’t an approachable money lender because of the high interest he charged and the hard-handed way with which he handled his borrowers; but he believed no amount of interests or risks would be bigger than Rolakes’s future which was at stake.
But suddenly, Wole stopped in the front of his hut, his head bowed, thinking harder about Alade and the money he wanted to borrow. It’s totally off-character for him to borrow anything from anyone. He believed borrowing enslaves the borrower to the lender. He just knew an overwhelming hunger could make a dog chew grasses like goats. He remembered how he feared to borrow money from Alade when Alake was in the maternity; thereby denying her a modern child delivery process and endangered her life. He thought it would be shame on him now to allow another disaster to occur in his family as a result of his fear or lack of interest in borrowing.
"Our people say,’’ Wole was thinking aloud, "making a mistake the first time it’s not your fault but repeating it again is your fault…’’
Rolake came out of the hut to meet Wole, interrupting his thought and soliloquizing. She’d put her house dresses on and just finished doing her Arithmetic assignment. Wole doesn’t wear his newest Ankara clothes, sewn into extra large jumper and baggy trousers except when going on an important outing; this gave Rolake the clue that her father was heading out.
"Father, where’re you off to?’’ Rolake asked.
"Oh my beloved daughter, pardon my occupied mind, I forgot to inform you earlier,’’ Wole said with tone of urgency. "I’m going to Chief Alade’s house.’’
"That is Kunle’s father, right?’’
"Yes my daughter, Lakunle’s father.’’
"Hope you won’t be long.’’
"Not at all, I shall be back before the hens go to roost.’’
"Alright, please, extend my greeting to Kunle my classmate.’’
"No problem, I shall deliver your message if it’s possible.’’
"Alright, father.’’
‘’Make sure you cook the dinner in case I’m not back home on time. We’re eating yam porridge tonight. Use two big yams from the barn and the stock fish in the little basket in the kitchen. Make sure you add enough palm oil and pepper. Remember not to add too much salt; make it moderate. And if you’re reading your books while the food is on fire, withdrew some fire-woods so that the food won’t get burnt.’’
"Alright father, I shall do exactly as you said.’’
"Okay…eh…and make sure you don’t leave the compound pending my arrival,’’ Wole said finally, as he disappeared from Rolake’s view.
A hut was serving as a barrier between them now. He had been walking briskly like a student who’s getting late for an exam. Wole knew the girl wasn’t the type that goes out without his commands. All the same, he had to caution her. Children, who knows all what their minds conceal, anyway? Their minds are always full of expected aspirations everyday and could try out some of them anytime, not minding the dangers or risks involved.