Tales of a year: the Lagos dream 4

He was drowning; the water had
come in through his nose and was threatening to sabotage his intake of air. His
survival instinct propelled him to open his mouth and he did, slowly opening
his eyes as well and panting heavily. He was sitting on the ground held up by
someone and surrounded by a crowd of people who were curious to see what would
become of him. Cries of thanksgiving rang out as the crowd gradually began to
dissipate; the show was over.

“Sorry!” a woman said to him “I’m
a nurse” she said feeling his wrist for his pulse and observing him. “Have you
had anything to eat today?” she asked

“Yes” he replied weakly

“When?”

“In the morning, around seven”

“Since then? It’s almost
four-thirty” she said looking at her watch, alarmed. After getting him
something to eat she admonished him to take better care of himself and quit his
present trade as he didn’t have the stamina for it. The woman had just echoed
Okekene’s thoughts, because he himself had been thinking of getting into
another line of work. He thought of the money he had saved up with the thrift
collector, it would be enough to start a small business.

Mrs Okekene brought in a different
kind of fresh leaves; her friend had assured her that these would bring down
the fever. She put them into a pot and began gathering firewood to start a fire
when she heard her son cry out “Mama, Mama!” She ran into the house full of
apprehension then horror when she saw her daughter convulsing violently,
foaming at the mouth.

“Blessing!” she cried as she held
her daughter, screaming for help.

“Blessing!!!”

Okekene held up the two nylons
appealing to potential customers with his eyes. It was a very sunny afternoon
and he was beginning to feel exhausted and dehydrated. A customer called from
behind him, he ran towards the moving vehicle, glad that his eyes had garnered
the desired sympathy. He was four cars away when Tunde his nemesis overtook him
and sold the ice cream to the customer. He was furious as Tunde laughed
mockingly, telling him that he needed to exercise, he was too slow for the
road. This was always happening; he would get called by a customer and Tunde
would overtake him and steal his customer. The company had given them each
fifty sachets of ice cream to sell, he had sold only seven.

Each day he was convinced that
there were forces assigned to see to it that he never became successful. The
money he had saved up with the thrift collector was suddenly gone, along with
the thrift collector who had also disappeared into thin air. No one knew where
he was. He had secretly cried for days, cursing the man and wondering what he
was going to do. His neck was still sore and his body weak when he heard of
this job as an ice cream vendor. He was glad to have a second chance until he
discovered another thorn in his side-Tunde. He walked towards a tree and sat
down under its shade terribly thirsty, yet holding two nylons of cold ice
cream.

Mrs Okekene sat on a stool by the
roadside straining fried yams. She served some into an old newspaper, poured
some pepper stew on top of it, rolled it up and served it to her waiting
customer. She smiled as she put the money into her brassiere, things were
looking up. God had answered her prayers.

That day as she held her
daughter, screaming for help, Corper Ademola happened to pass by with some of
his friends. He had quickly taken the girl to the primary health care center
and done his best to stabilize her before taking her to the hospital in town.
When she was better, he assessed the situation with Mrs Okekene and decided that
she had to be helped. So, he spoke to some of the leaders of the Christian
corpers fellowship who encouraged their members to contribute money to help the
desperate Mrs Okekene who by now was about seven months pregnant. She had
gratefully accepted the money and started the business of selling fried yams
and fish by the roadside. The business was thriving as more people trooped to
her delicious cooking. Her children had also returned to school, the corpers
had seen to that. All that was missing now was her husband who she no longer
cursed but prayed for.

Okekene was walking as usual with
his hands held up, calling customers with his eyes. “Sweet, sweet ice cream!”
he finally called out, no one was looking at him. Yesterday the supervisor had
threatened to let him go because he never met his target. So, today he had been
working furiously at changing the trend and even worked far away from Tunde.

“Sweet, sweet ice cream!” he
called out to the passengers in the oncoming cars. He had been walking tiredly
and moaning “Ice cream…” when he saw a familiar face. It was Joshua his
childhood friend who had gone on to the university because his father could
afford it. He was now driving one of the fine cars and wearing a suit.

“Joshua, Joshua!” he called out
hitting the rolled up window of the terrified man who finally recognized him.

“Okekene!” he said then pulled
over. Okekene ran towards the car as if his life depended on it. The two
friends exchanged pleasantries, glad to see each other again.

“Come with me to my house” Joshua
said

“I have to finish selling my ice
cream” Okekene replied regretfully.

“How much is it?”

Okekene made a mental calculation
and said “It remains twenty seven, so that would be two thousand, seven hundred
naira”. Joshua paid for the ice cream as Okekene gladly tore off the corner of
a sachet of ice cream and drank its content.

They drove to Joshua’s house
where they talked heart to heart, with Okekene pleading for Joshua’s financial
help.

“Look my friend, I must not deceive
you, things may be better for me but believe me, but we’re all running this
race. All I can do is help you with some money but you have to go back home and
help your family succeed. How can you expect to do well when you have abandoned
your wife and children in the village? You don’t even know how they’re doing. You
have to go back home.”

Mrs Okekene poured the seeds into
the soil and covered it up with some more soil. Her back was hurting terribly
and she was becoming dizzy from bending down often, but she had to do this if
she and her children would not starve. They were helping her plant too and she
was grateful for their help. Her baby was due in a few weeks so she had to work
extra hard to make sure that all was ready by the time the baby came.

She lifted herself up one more
time, holding her back and waddling on to the next heap when she saw him
standing afar off with a defeated look, carrying a polythene bag. The children
saw him and ran to him cheering, glad to see their father back from the trip
their mother said he went on. Mr and Mrs Okekene remained where they were looking
at each other, their eyes saying all that needed to be said and crying silently.