Breaking someone’s trust is like crumpling up a perfect piece of paper. You can smooth it over but it’s never going to be the same again. Sometimes it’s not the people who change; it’s the mask that falls off.
Mr. David Badmus, a 100 level computer engineering student in one of the universities in Nigeria who is still roaming the streets of Lagos hoping to find a good Samaritan, says this year has been the worst year of his life having lost his father seven months ago in a ghastly motor accident.
“My father’s death came as a rude shock to everyone that knew him. We did not see it coming at all because he was hale and hearty before he embarked on a business trip that fateful day,” David began amidst tears.
David said he was in a friend’s house when he got a call that his attention was urgently needed at home. He immediately hurried home only to see his mother weeping uncontrollably.
“Collins and I have been friends for long time. We applied to study different courses in the same university, I secured admission but my friend didn’t. So, I always go around his place when I had the time to cheer him up.
“The house was empty that day and I left for Collins’s place when boredom got the better part of me. I was enjoying my time with Collins when my phone rang. It was my mother’s number.
“I picked it up but I heard a man’s voice instead. That wasn’t my Dad’s voice or has someone stolen my mother’s phone I thought almost immediately but the next few words that came out of the man’s mouth sent me running home with Collins trying to catch up with me while he kept asking, ‘O boy, wetin happen?’”
In response, David said he had no slightest idea but he knew something was certainly wrong. His mother was supposed to be at work. Why would someone be calling with her phone? Has her mother been kidnapped? Or has something befallen her? He knew he had to get home to find answers to the numerous questions in his mind that was begging for answers.
Immediately he stepped his leg inside his compound and sighted his mother who was surrounded by sympathisers crying like a new born baby, David said he did not need a prophet to tell him that someone had died in his family.
“When I got inside the house and asked what was happening. I was told that my father is dead. My mother couldn’t utter any meaningful sentence at that moment and I could understand why. She had just lost her husband and the load of taking care of six children which was not an easy job for two is going to rest on her shoulders.
“My younger sister, Martha had gone for tutorials in preparation for her JAMB examination. The rest had gone back to school. That night my mother told me how she got a call while attending to a patient that the car my father boarded had an accident. Few people survived but my dad wasn’t one of them,” David said with so much pain, forcing back tears.
According to David, the next weeks that followed saw them all running around to see that his father got the befitting burial that he deserved. After the burial, David said they barely had enough money to meet pressing needs because the burial had gulped a substantial amount of the little his parents had saved for unforeseen contingencies.
“Life was not all rosy for us before the demise of my father but it got pretty difficult after he died to the point that my mother suggested some of us go live with relatives to ease the heavy burden resting on her shoulders while she tried to get a better paying job.
“My younger brother, Philip went to live with my uncle and Charles, my immediate elder is staying with my Dad’s younger sister but I never liked the idea of having to live with anyone. My mother tried so hard to persuade me but she saw that I had made up my mind on staying at home with her, she let me be,” he said.
He continued: ‘‘my problem began three months ago when one of my Aunts that resides in Lagos visited. Aunty Grace is one of those very few people that showed me more than she told me that I was way too special. Another person of course is my mother and she genuinely meant it.
“Anytime Aunty Grace visited, she always came with some goodies, most of which land on my laps. She came for my father’s burial but left in a hurry because of her job but promised to visit again. So, when Aunty ‘me’, as I fondly call her called my mother sometime in September to say she was visiting in a week, my joy knew no bounds’’
When David’s Aunty visited and saw his mother in such a pitiable state struggling to take care of three big boys and a girl, she volunteered to assist. She promised to help David secure a well-paying job in Lagos so he could save up money to complete his tertiary education.
“My mother told her (Aunty Grace) that she (my mother) has been trying to persuade me to go live with some of our relatives until she finds her feet but I’ve refused to live with anybody. She told Aunty Grace to talk me into going to live with her but Aunty Grace is not anybody to me because she showers me with gifts like no other. So, when she asked if I could come live with her, I asked her when we were leaving for Lagos.
“This came as a huge relief to my mother who has been battling to take care of three big boys and a girl since my two siblings were already living with relatives,” he said.
Two days later, David journeyed to Lagos with Aunty Grace with the hope of enjoying the kind of life she (Aunty Grace) had promised him but a day after he stepped his foot into Lagos, the mask she (Aunty Grace) was wearing all these years fell off.
David continued: “The night before we left for Lagos, Aunty Grace told my family and me that there were enough jobs in Lagos to go round. She said secondary school dropouts had decent jobs and being an undergraduate, I stood a better chance of securing a better job.
“While I was packing my luggage that day, my siblings sat staring at me. They wished they were me at that point, I could see it in their eyes. When I finally got to the much-talked-about Lagos, I knew my coming was a huge mistake.
“I got to know that Aunty Grace had been pretending all these while. She was not as rich as she made us believe she was; she does not work in any big office as the secretary because she sells hair extensions in Oshodi market. The building housing the tiny room she lives in was in a secluded area as if the building was ashamed of itself.”
According to him, the following day his Aunt gave him several rules and regulations. It was only then that it dawned on David that his Aunt had other plans for bringing him to Lagos.
“A few days after we arrived Lagos, Aunty Grace told me that I would start hawking plantain chips and if I didn’t make any money, I should not expect to eat anything. I could not believe my ears; was this woman joking or something? I later got to know that she wasn’t because her facial expressions said it all.
“For the past two months, I have been hawking plantain chips around Oke-Afa, Isolo and Airport road. I’m tired of spreading myself in the sun on a daily basis in the name of hawking chips. I’ve told her I want to go back home since she did not live up to her promise but she just ignored my pleas. Some days she starves me because the chips I hawk is poorly made and most times I end up not selling up to a quarter of it.
“I have thoughts of running back to the village but where will I get the money from? I have reached out to my mother but she found it difficult to believe that my Aunt would ever treat me in such a manner. She promised to send down some money but I’m running out of patience. It gets worse every second I spend with this two-faced woman. Most of the people I approach on the road for help seem not to believe my story and end up telling me to go do something with my young life.
“While I wait for my mother to find an avenue to send down some money, I pray some Good Samaritan will show up and make my wait a shorter one. Aunty Grace made me believe that she cared but I’ve come to realise in a painful way that she lied.”
Chinwe Agbaze
