AGONY OF THE DEAF
Written by Author Nath
4 YEARS AND A FEW MONTHS LATER.
It was her first year in the university, university of Lagos, Nigeria precisely and also the year she migrated into adulthood. She sat in front of a large mirror in her room with just a white towel tied across her chest. In her hand was a make-up brush which she used to decorate her face like a painter on the wall of a house. Her breast had enlarged more than initial, but her slim-fit feature never changed, even her complexion had enhanced by costly creams and, of course, make-ups. Viewing through the mirror, one can see her thighs looking fresh like a fresh cucumber. I do not want to talk about her underwear which obviously reflected on the mirror too especially when she drew her face closer to the mirror in order to draw a correct curve on her eyebrows.
Behind her was a large bed with pink bedspread which she purposely bought with her money to match the pinky paint on the walls of the room. Yes, your guest was right; it was her favourite colour! She so much loved it that her roommate necknamed her ‘madam pink’. There was no television in the room neither was there any electrical appliances. Only a reading table and boxes of clothes.
Notwithstanding, the door of her room cracked open, that was Ogechi, an Igbo girl and also her lodge-mate whom she met online while looking for the lodge. She was black with an open teeth which was her centre of attraction.
“Eniola, Madam pink, you’re not yet dressed for the welcome party of our great faculty of pure sciences. Oh, I must have known; you want to look pinky for him.” She sat on the edge of the bed grinning seriously.
“There’s no ‘him’, Oge.” Eniola stood up. She loosed the towel and hung it inside a bathroom, a few steps from the bed, then came out half naked on white pant that punctured into the lining of her buttocks. Oh, here I go talking about the underwear. “What about your own ‘him'”? She asked.
“Hmm, the family I come from, we don’t choose a ‘him’ by ourselves. I grew up in South Africa. When I came to Nigeria, my Dad said there’s a ‘him’ for me in Ghana. I’ve not met him face to face, but I kind of like him from video calls.” Ogachi explained.
“What’s his name?”
Eniola grabbed a black tight which she began to wear over the pant. “I guess you know that I was nominated by my department to give a speech today at the party like every other departments from our faculty.” She changed the topic.
“Yes, and have you written your speech?” Ogechi asked her.
“One of my teachers in the secondary school days told me that a good speech is never written. It comes from the way we feel.” Eniola wore a bra and red gown which she drew to the knee level.
“Well, i cant wait to hear your feelings.”
“Faded Feelings though.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.” Eniola mounted on heel-shoes then allowed her hair to dangle around her neck. “How do I look?” She slid the hair backward.
“Stunning!” Ogachi stood up and they left to the party.
Crowd of students filled a one thousands capacity hall. It was decorated with different colors of balloons and dim lights. Eniola stood erect on the stage with a microphone in her hands, well positioned to her mouth like a child holding a feeding bottle in her mouth. She gazed at the crowd who also waited silently for her to speak. The tranquility observed in the hall was like a catalyst which sped up Eniola’s thought of her past, remembering no other person but Claude. Therefore the faded feelings began to return. That triggered tears from her eyes thereby rising a soliloquy among the students.
“Miracles happen. I’m a living witness” Her voice blasted through several speakers mounted at several corners, both outside and inside which brought back silence in the hall as she continued. “I was born deaf and dumb. One day, I found a boy in the woods. He never said where he came from. All he could tell me was his name. We never cared since I felt connected to him. He lived in our house for months, making sure I was happy and pass my exams in a special school. He was so lovely that I fell in love with him.” She smiled and sniffed while the tears continued flowing. “I was just fourteen. One night, I woke up to see a flower beside my bed and my lips painted with his blood. Miraculously, I found myself talking and hearing, but I never found him again.. He… he… disappeared till today. Only God knows how I feel about him. But I was meant to understand that he was an angel which I still believe is a lie till today. Though the most important thing is that I was miraculously healed.” She concluded while students cheered her up. She was weeping and smiling at the same time.
Ogechi had to run up to the stage and led her back to her seat. “Madam pink, this is a huge experience. Why never you mentioned this to me? That boy was no angel. We need to find him. If he is an angel then we’re going to heaven to get him.” she kept saying, patting her friends back in consolidation.
On the walls of his room was a calendar which he stared critically. He wore a singlet and a black plain trouser. He had started developing beards. The more he looked at the calendar, the more he remembered Eniola. When the door of the room opened, he startled and turned to see Nnanna, another Igbo boy.
“Ike, you’ve been staring at the calendar. What’s going on?” he asked from the door.
“My name is Claude” he replied.
“We know you as Ike. When chief brought you here to manage his business, he introduced you as Ike.”
Claude silently sat down on the edge of the bed, while Nnanna anticipated his reply. He exhaled and began. “I need to tell you something, Nnenna. I’m a Hugo.”
“Hu what?” the young man narrowed his face. “Is that some kind of Chinese?” he added.
“No, its for special people whose blood is mysterious.” Claude had to tell Nnanna about Eniola and the part he was taken by Raphael and his mother. “Chief rescued me from them. He claimed that papa, the man who was taking me to Demili alarted him that if we don’t get there within a particular day, he should look for me in the hands of Raphael and his mother. Chief did not only treat me, he also changed my name, put me through education and wants me to marry his daughter called Ogechi whom I have not seen physically.”
“Ewoo!” Nnanna exclaimed. “Chief is an Igbo man with an Igbo sense. “Do you know why he wants you to marry his daughter? He wants your blood to run in his family and generation to come. And he’ll definitely use the blood for business!” He grinned.
“Wow!” Claude exclaimed as an afterthought. “Is probably why he has refused to take me to Demili to neutralize the power of the blood.” he stood up, thinking critically. “I shall be going back to Nigeria next two months in search of Eniola.” he concluded.
“Guy, it’s not gonna be an easy battle with Chief.” Nnanna warned…
TO BE CONTINUED.