A BETER HOME

A Better and Real Home: Aunty Agatha’s home was in Apapa, a beautiful house with a small staff quar­ters. She lived all by herself. She had a maid called Beatrice and a driver named John. They were very welcoming and friendly. She presented me to them and told them that they were to treat me like her own child. Betty then took me to the room she had prepared for me.

My room was very beautiful.  Painted in pink with a lovely bed, shelves and a wardrobe. I could not imagine how she could have prepared that room in such a short time. She must have spent the whole of the previous day trying to make things comfortable for me. I remembered my mother telling me she would be with me.

My eyes clouded with tears, I could not ex­press my gratitude to Aunty Agatha in words ex­cept through the tears flowing down my cheeks. She too could not help but weep with me while she drew me closer to her and embraced me. She used her bare hands to wipe away my tears. She told me to go to the bathroom and take a proper bath. She showed me the bathroom and gave me a lovely pink towel. She said, ‘Nkem pink is for girls even when you grow up to be a beautiful young lady, pink still suits you until you are eighteen.’

She told me that within the week she would enrol me into a good school to enable me continue with my education. To her, she saw me as a brilliant young child that would grow up to be a beautiful and intelligent lady. I gave her another hug, she ushered me into the bathroom and left to give instruction to Be­atrice.

In the bathroom I took my bath in sweet running clean water from the tap with a beautiful fragrant soap. Once again I thanked God for his merciful love. ‘Dear Lord thank you for Aunty Agatha and for the new home. Please help me to be good and obedient, and  to live up to her expectations. Bless her for her kindness and generosity to me.’ I then said aloud, ‘Is it that you have given me another mother? You said you would not abandon me. True to your word I have found a mother in Aunty Agatha.’

I opened the wardrobe. I picked up an An­kara (Nigerian wrapper) three-quarter length and a simple T-Shirt. I combed my hair and I went to the sitting room. Aunty Agatha was there and with a broad smile she invited me to join her. She asked Beatrice to bring me a cup of chocolate drink and another sandwich.  Her sit­ting room was very beautiful and clean. while Beatrice was preparing lunch, she spent some time chatting with me. She asked questions about my family and what I remembered about them. I felt so safe and at home with her. She told me she had made up her mind to  contact the proprietress of a school the next day so as to see if I could be enrolled to start the following week. We would use the days before starting school to get to know each other better.

After a long conversation with Aunty Agatha, we came to a conclusion that for my education, I was to repeat primary four. Yes, at the age of twelve when I should have been in secondary school, I would be in primary four. Thank God I wasn’t too tall for my age. Though I was small in stature, it was not too bad to be with children of ages 7 and 10 in primary school. Aunty Agatha assured me that I would be fine. With love and understanding she prepared me for school.

Aunty Agatha had a restaurant and a saloon. She employed some good and hardworking young ladies and men to assist in running her business. This according to her was to help create jobs for the youth. She would often say that, ‘Our government cannot provide jobs for everyone. Therefore, those of us who own private business can contribute in creating employment in our own little way.’  Sometimes Aunty Agatha was in­vited to give talks to young people, and she was a mentor to many of them. At about two o’clock that afternoon, Beatrice announced that lunch was ready. We sat at the dining room to eat semovita and egusi soup. The food was very delicious.

My first night in my new home was very peaceful. For the first time I slept without the nightmare of my uncle trying to rape me. Be­fore then I had often seen myself running in my dreams, trying to escape from my uncle. I prayed that someday this nightmare would be over.

The next day, I woke up at 6.00am and said my prayers before getting out of bed. I made the bed, took my bath and got dressed. I was about leav­ing the room when Aunty Agatha came in to say hello. She was glad to see me looking refreshed and to know I had slept well. She gave me a hug and told me how happy she was that I accepted to leave the streets to come live with her.  Like a good mother, she had checked on me while I was sleeping at night, to find out if I was alright. She noticed I did not cry or talk in my sleep. It was a good sign feeling safe in her home.

She saw my little bible and asked me to read from it. I opened it and read a portion of the story of David and Goliath. She smiled and was glad that I could read confidently. She assured me that in going back to primary school, if I did well in my exams I could be granted a double promotion to a higher class. Starting in primary four was to as­certain my level of intelligence and comprehen­sion.

 

True to her words, I did exceedingly well in school and got promoted to primary six. I equal­ly sat for an exam into secondary school and I passed with flying colours. Aunty Agatha was very proud of me. Four years with her was like being in another world. Sometimes I asked my­self if I was dreaming. The driver was available to take me to school and bring me back. She ar­ranged for a private lesson teacher for me and equally encouraged me to learn how to play the piano. She made sure I joined the children’s choir and take part in church activities which involved children.

 

At the age of fourteen, I was enrolled into sec­ondary school. This was a bit later than usual, be­cause normally children in this part of the world would start secondary school between ten and twelve years of age. Nevertheless, I was happy to have the opportunity of going to secondary school. I never thought it possible. Due to God’s intervention through Aunty Agatha, I would be able to further my education. How many children in my situation had the good fortune to meet an angel like this one sent to them? I saw myself as a blessed child.

 I thought of my adopted brother David and I prayed he too would have the same luck that I had. My own blood brothers and sisters? I had no news from them and was beginning to forget their faces. I was not too sure if I would still rec­ognise them after quite some years of being apart.

 Maybe someday God would reunite us. I sin­cerely prayed and wished to be with them again. I was hopefully that the gene that bound us as children from the same parents would surely bring us together again some day.

Song of Trust