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.
