“I thank you for the kola nut. Let me not hold you from leaving for the market. It is past time. Uridiya, is this your son?” He looked at Uridiya and pointed at Jamike.
“He is the only child God gave to me and his father.”
“He did not ask you for a story, Uridiya, storyteller. If you begin your story I will leave you to continue. He asked you a simple question. He hasn’t told you why he is here,” Akudike cautioned.
“Oh, I will shut up. When he asks me the next question, you tell me what to answer. Pardon me, headmaster. This is the way they shut me up in this compound. I have no say, not even to tell you that Jamike is my child without a rebuke from those who own me.” The headmaster was amused. He understood family squabbles.
“The reason I came here is to talk about your son, Jamike. He is an intelligent student and does well in class, coming first in examinations most of the time. I found out from his teacher that his end of school term result is always withheld, either because he has not completed his fees for the term or he failed to pay anything at all…” Uridiya cut in.
“Your observation is right. I pay, as I am able, when I can. Things are hard for the two of us. But I have sworn to my god that he will go to school. Let God do his wish on him.”
Jamike listened to every word that came out of the headmaster’s mouth and watched as well the look of consternation on his mother’s face. Jamike had told his mother about the meeting with the headmaster and his teacher early in the week but Uridiya did not think much about it. She thought the boy did not understand what he was talking about.
“Hold on, Uridiya.” Akudike interjected. “Headmaster, though she took the word from your mouth, what she said is true. Since the boy’s father, my brother, died, the woman you are looking at here has suffered in raising this boy. Whether they see what to eat or not they carry on. It is from what she scratches out of the farm that she uses for both of them. These days the farm does not yield much. However, God has blessed her with a good boy. Of all the children in the kindred, this child is number one in character. Just mention the errand and he is on his way. If you give him a message for someone he does not forget it while playing, like other children do these days. He is a good boy. Please, continue your statement,” Akudike said.
“Woman, you have tried very much. I praise you for your determination that your boy will be educated.”
Uridiya adjusted herself on the bamboo bench in Akudike’s cool veranda. On hot days this bench serves as a bed for the old man.
“Since I did not go to school, let him go there and read the books for himself and for me,” she cut in again. Akudike was irritated.
“Headmaster, do you see that? This is what I am talking about. Uridiya, please allow the man to talk. You have started the behavior that brings you in conflict and gets you in trouble with the village people. Keep your mouth shut.”
“I have kept it shut. God gave me a mouth to talk with, but all of you in our kindred say Uridiya will not talk. I agree. Jamike, do you see what I tell you all the time? Thank God these things keep happening before you.”
A kinsman came into the compound to see Akudike but he was asked to wait outside for him. This man heard that the headmaster was in the compound and had come to verify. He asked to tell Akudike he would return, but did not.
“I don’t have a long statement to make. I come to talk about Jamike, your son. He is a bright young man who does outstandingly well in schoolwork. I found out that he has continuous difficulty in paying fees or school levies. He informed me that his father died when he was a child, leaving his mother the burden of raising him and now struggling with his school needs. I fully understand his plight. My own father died when I was a schoolboy, but my situation was different. Not many children attended school in those days, so the Catholic mission helped to support me. I am here to tell you that starting from this term I will take over the payment of your son’s fees until he finishes Primary Standard Six in three years. I will give him what is called scholarship. It is from me and not from the mission or the government.”
“What did he say he is giving Jamike?” Uridiya asked Akudike.
“It is scholarship. It simply means I will pay his fees and buy his books while he attends school. So, let’s leave it at that so you can go on to the market. I need to leave too to take care of school matters.” He did not say that, Uridiya thought. She moved closer to Akudike and held his lap. Her body shivered.
“Akudike, what did he say? I doubt if I heard him right. Please tell me what he said, so I won’t misunderstand him.” Akudike could not believe what he heard, either.
“I am not deaf yet, but hold on while I ask the headmaster to repeat what he said so it would not be that we did not hear him properly.
“Headmaster, what did you say? Please say it again so we may hear it well.”
Jamike himself thought he heard the headmaster very well. He was now thinking about the flogging and being sent away for school fees. These would be no more, and he would not have to cry on his way to school because Uridiya did not have the fees to give him. His school report card would not be withheld anymore, and he could now jubilate like other students when school results were announced at the end of the school term instead of leaving the assembly hall downcast. He believed he heard the headmaster clearly. The headmaster answered Akudike and repeated what he just said.
“I said I will take over the payment of Jamike’s fees from now on. This means from his present class, Primary Standard Four, up to Standard Six. I will be his father in this respect. You only have to provide him food, clothing, and other things a boy needs. Do not worry about his school fees and books.” Uridiya fell to the ground on her knees. Her hands up and palms open, she said:
“Headmaster, I thank you. Who said that man is not God to man? Yes, man is the God we see everyday. He works His miracles like this one through man. Headmaster, you are God this day for my child and me. Nnorom, are you seeing the good that is coming into your household? Death be shamed! Akudike, can you see? You said I should shut my mouth. This time I don’t have the mouth to talk. You can do all the talking now. How do we thank him? How will I be able to thank this savior? I leave that in your hands.” She moved closer to the headmaster and held his knees, tears welling in her eyes. Imagine not paying school fees any more!
An arrow of envy shot through Akudike because Uridiya’s hardship was about to lessen. He had mocked that Uridiya had a grand plan to educate her son when she had no means to do so and failed to heed his advice that the boy should learn bicycle repairing or blacksmithing, for which he seemed gifted. He used to comment that Uridiya thought education would be cheap or something one could obtain by hoping and praying God to provide. The boy, Jamike, he told people, would have been a blacksmith by now instead of all these years he was wasting in school he would never complete.
“Headmaster, I thank you,” Akudike said. “Our Lord bless you. You saw a widow’s son, and you want to do the work of a father for him. May God reward you and bless your family. I am speechless. I will pass on this good news to our people. They will be overjoyed. It has been a long time this woman has been suffering. She tries to borrow money from here and there but villagers have their own problems. How can you give to someone when you have none to eat?” He turned to Jamike.
“Jamike, you have heard it. Your headmaster said you would complete your schooling. You have nothing else to worry about but only to read your books. The heavy load has been taken off your mother. So wherever the book goes you follow it. The headmaster has said you have brains. I am not surprised. I, myself, have known you have brains since you were born.”
Jamike, still standing, his eyes roving over everything on Akudike’s veranda, nodded his head. A goat suddenly jumped out from the goat shed and made toward the gate to enter a neighbor’s farm. The woman who owned the farm had complained that Akudike’s goats are never reined in but instead left to eat her vegetables.
“Jamike,