NKOYO II.

PICTURE CREDIT: META

DESIGNED BY: theunusual_writer.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the characters, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Hey there,💕

I’m back with something spicy for y’all and I’m eagerly anticipating your engagements and comments.

Thank you.

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NKOYO II.

You might be wondering how my name came about. Mama is an Efik woman that grew up in Anambra State, and it was always difficult for one to decipher that she wasn’t Igbo. She named me after Nana, and as far as I can remember, Nana was strong-willed and full of so much audacity, and Mama wanted me to be like her so bad. Nkoyo Bassey, the daughter of Barr. Bassey Udeme~ Short for Udemeobong. He was a terrorist during his days as a lawyer, and they nicknamed him “Barrister Cause Trouble." He was also one of the richest lawyers back then, and his chambers were always filled with people waiting at the reception. He was in fact the only lawyer then that had ceiling fans in his chambers. I know this because Uncle Ihunna, my father's younger brother, always told us stories whenever we were around for Christmas. Uncle Ihunna had said that Nana’s father always had a big law textbook in front of him and one under his pillow, something like “The Lawyer's Companion” by Layi Babatunde. Nana’s father lived the law and died the law.

I didn’t exactly know who Kolokuma was named after, and I didn’t know any of our family members that hailed from Bayelsa, but I always found the confusion on people’s faces fascinating whenever they heard my name.

Nkoyo Ezinna. 

***

“Mama, I don’t think I want to go to the university this year again." I had said to her on a Saturday morning. I was seated in between her legs on the cemented floor of our compound with a folded Indomie carton for support while she sat on a small stool as she weaved my thick natural hair into tiny cornrows. Although I preferred my cornrows fat and fast, Mama preferred those tiny ones that you can barely count; she enjoyed the sweet blend of weaving and gossip, and most importantly, I loved the smell of her palms afterward: a mixture of cooking spices, shea butter, and soulmate hair cream.

Very homely.

Mama laughed and continued weaving. “ I can see that this excitement is beginning to have a bad effect on you”. She hissed jokingly.

“No mama, I’m not joking”. I said with all seriousness.

Mama paused for a split second and slipped the wooden rat tail comb into my hair. She was just about to start the cutting for another cornrow.

“What?? Nkoyo? Has your father's Umunna struck??”. Mama shouted as she stood up from the stool and pulled me up from the ground where I sat, gripping my arms firmly with her hands. She shook me severally, and I knew she was trying to shake off the “bad words” that had just flowed out of my mouth.

“Mama, I’m not ready; I heard university life is really hard, and I don’t think I’m ready for that this year.” I said in a convincing tone as if Mama hadn’t heard of the word “university” before. 

“Are you out of your mind??”. Mama cried, “You did so well in your JAMB exams, and you intend to sit for that same exam next year? What about your admission? What about all the people I have told? My friends that are already calling me “Mama Barrister”….eh Nkoyo." By this time, tears were already flowing down her slightly wrinkled face, and her grip on my arms had tightened.

"Mama, look, I’ll study harder for JAMB next year, and I’ll get a higher grade, and I’ll go to the university, and I’ll study law.” I said reassuringly, and the next thing that happened startled me. Mama shoved me aside and went into the house.

I hadn’t expected her to hug me and rub my tough head, but I hadn’t expected the aggressive push either.

“Your father has to hear this madness... He has to know that this pregnancy has affected your sense of reasoning." Mama said as she went into the house, her breath fast and heavy.

I wanted to go to the university so bad, more than anything. I wanted to experience life outside my father's house; I wanted everything that came with being a fresher: the naivete, the gullibility, the I.T.K., the oversabi. Even if I didn’t fancy the course I was studying and not like I fancied any other course in particular, I wanted to be a graduate.

But.

***

The night the admission list was released had to be the best night of my life. It was on a Thursday by 8:20 p.m. I was sitting in Papa’s study with Papa, Mama, and Uncle Yaro. Uncle Yaro was the tech guy that came over to the house when Papa needed to use his laptop for some research.

As thorough as Papa was, he lacked computer literacy, and he had barred Kolokuma from touching his laptop after he withdrew eighty thousand naira from Papa’s account. Uncle Yaro was seated on the black office chair with the cocoa-coloured table in front of him, and Papa, Mama, and I peered at the computer screen from behind. On some days that he would have to stay late, Mama would place a mattress, a pillow, and a blanket in the empty guests room, and on several occasions I would insist on being the one to drop the tray of food on the floor for him whilst enjoying the view of his bare chest. He was muscular, very dark and average heighted with full hair and beards. But all those fantasies of running my hands across his sculpted body came to an end when I perceived a putrid stench from his armpit. Something between rotten eggs and spoilt beans.

It was that bad.

That smell had been familiar for quite some time, and I always perceived it in the visitors room whenever he was gone, and I went there to clean it up, but it never crossed my mind that he was the one until he gave me a side hug last Christmas when he came to our house with his cooler to collect rice. “A young bachelor like you cannot be doing Christmas alone, nau.” Mama had said over the phone “Oya, stop by for some rice and dodo.” Mama said before she hung up.

Uncle Yaroooo! Fine man with body odour.

As he logged in to the university's website, my palms had become moist, and my breath was sharp and still. 

And finally, the list was out.

I was the last person on the merit list.

Papa had hugged me so tightly, and Mama had insisted that I sleep in between she and Papa that night, but I laughed it off and said I wasn’t a baby anymore, but then I wish I had slept there that night; I wish I had sardined myself in between Papa and Mama and avoided what happened next.

That night, after Mama and Papa had gone to bed and I had retired to my own room for the night, my cheeks were hurting from smiling too hard, and my belly was filled with so much happiness until I heard a knock on the door.

Slight and uninviting.

I wasn’t expecting it to be Mama because she was a deep sleeper; Papa,  on the other hand, hardly ever came into my room; he would rather summon me to his study, and I knew it was Kolokuma.

He pushed the door open and walked into the room without waiting for a response from me, and he sat at the edge of my bed. I made sure to avoid any form of eye contact with him. We hadn’t spoken for days, and I preferred things that way.

“Can we talk?”. He said it in a small voice, and I nodded my head. “Nk! Please, can your admission wait till next year? Look, I am already studying for my JAMB exams, and I intend to write it next year, and I’ll be able to get admission and go to the university.” He said it in a haste.

Kolokuma was always in a haste. It was as if he had some inner demons that were always pursuing him.

I wanted to laugh so bad and not just any kind of laugh, those loud ones that came directly from your belly. I sat up on the bed, trying to understand if I had heard him clearly or if I had zoned out. But there he was sitting at the edge of my bed, his eyes looking straight at mine—those eyes full of betrayal, deceit, lies, and something else that I didn’t know.

“And why would I do that after all you have put me through, after all your wickedness, you want me to give up my admission for you? Everything I have suffered is because of you, your bad head, your curse, your evil heart...”. I kept on talking until tears began to flow down my face. The tears I had under lock and key in my heart's chest, the tears I had swallowed, hard like 2 days old Eba, so I could be strong for myself and my future.

My heart was damaged, cut in every part, and no matter how much I cleaned the blood out and dried it up, it still bled. It was still heavy, heavy with the secret of an abomination I couldn’t utter.

Tears began to roll down Kolokuma’s eyes as he hugged me so tightly, almost squeezing all the pain out of me. “I am so sorry, Nkoyo... I am so sorry for all I have put you through... It’s the devil's work. I hate myself so much every time I think of all I have put you through. I love you so much, Nkoyo, much more than you can imagine... You remember those times you would make Papa run round the house whenever he wanted to spank you, and you'd hide behind me, holding me tightly, and Papa would eventually give up. You remember those times I would bring plenty of chocolates and sweets to you in class, and all your friends would be so envious, and they would all wish they had a brother like me...”. He had a lot more to say.

And before you know it, I cowered under his words as he used his undersized pyjamas to clean my tear-stained face and hugged me tighter, after which we sat on the floor to discuss what he said about me moving my plans of going to the university to the coming year.

He had said I could tell papa and mama that I wasn’t ready for the university, and I remembered Ifeoma’s words on the day I went to her house for advice on what to do about the seed in my womb: “Nkoyo, your life and education are more important,” but I shoved it to the back of my mind. I could wait till next year; after all, I was still young.

“Promise me you would enrol in Uncle John’s  lesson." I had told him, holding his hands.

“I promise, and I cross my heart." He said, smiling as he intertwined his hands over his heart, and we both burst into laughter. 

Shortly after, he left my room, but not after tucking me under my blanket and whispering “I love you” in my ears, and for the first time in a long time, I slept so well. 

And then he slipped out of my room like the devil that he was. I wished I had made him promise not to touch me again. He always kept to his words, and it wasn’t every time I got to see him in that sober mood where I could ask for the world and he would give it to me.

***

I didn’t mention it to Mama or Papa, and that was because I was looking for a good opening, and I found it when I was seated in between Mama’s legs. She was weaving my hair, and we were bantering about the woman in the market who had called Mama a stingy woman because she priced a bucket of tomatoes from two thousand naira to three hundred naira. 

Mama didn’t take what I had said lightly, and later that night Papa summoned me to his study. I had expected him to scold me, but rather he politely asked me why I wanted to throw away my JAMB result and the admission I had just been given, and all I could say as I had planned was, “Papa, I’m not ready now; I would get a better JAMB score next year, and I’ll go to UNIZIK, but not now.”. 

He had settled down to ask me further if anything was the matter, and truth be told, I had nothing to say because nothing was really the matter except that the matter was my own brother, his son.

Papa didn’t ask any more questions, but before I stood up to leave, he had said to me, “I hope you don’t regret this later, Nkoyo.”. 

And I hoped too.

Mama had put me on several calls with Uncle Okpala, begging him to convince me that I was on the wrong path, but all I kept on saying was, "Uncle, I’m not ready now; I would get a better JAMB score next year, and I’ll go to UNIZIK, but not now." I had said it so many times that it had now stuck to my tongue like my very own saliva.

Mama had told Ifeoma’s mother to send her daughter Ifeoma to our house so she could talk some sense into my block head, but not even Ifeoma could change my mind.

On some days she would probe me to tell her exactly why I had changed my mind, but I would never budge. “Nkoyo tell me…This wasn’t you a few weeks ago; what changed? I applied for UNIZIK because of you..so we could be together, and this is how you want things to be...your life to be.”. She would say with tears brimming in her round, pretty eyes, and sometimes I’d cry too, and we would hug each other.

Ifeoma had a really pretty face and I would always tease her whenever we were going for any outing “See as your face fine like 30 people”. She was slim and tall with knock knees that you couldn’t tell for sure which way she was heading; whether it was left or right.

But as far as I was concerned she was going both ways and I always teased her about it.

And I wished she could get her answers through my tears; I wished she could hear me without having to utter a word.

Some other days she would bring Obinna along with her, and he would just sit at the corner staring at me with bewilderment written all over his face. 

They had both chosen UNIZIK because of me, and it hurt so bad that my mind was made up. In a few weeks time, they would be gone, and I’d be all alone, licking my own self-inflicted wounds.

"I would join you guys next year...it's not a big deal, ify." I'd say as I saw them off.

Mama had stopped talking or gisting with me, and I would watch her outside, sitting on her favourite stool as she wiped the careless tears that streamed down her face with reckless abandon and I knew it was because of me.

I had failed her.

She would sometimes snap her fingers whenever she was in the kitchen making soup or stew. “O Chim! Ezinna’s Umunna has struck o”. Her midnight prayers had also intensified with her shouting, “Fire!!! Fire!! Anybody who has confused my daughter, any madness that has taken over her..."

And sometimes I expected Kolokuma to run out of his room, scratching his body and shouting, “Fire oo, mama, fire is burning me.”

But that never happened.

What next???

Join me next Sunday, same time(9PM, WAT) as I answer all your questions.

It’s another Sunday to express how much I love you guys. Thank you for clicking on the link, thank you for reading, liking, commenting and whatever it is you do. I am really grateful to God for the gift of all of you💕✨.

 I Hope you enjoyed it?

I would love to know what character stood out for you both in the first part and this part. You can also send in whatever questions you have.

Please let me know in the comment section🙏.

And if you can't comment due to any issues send your thoughts to my email: asindiwendy3@gmail.com

This is from me to all the Upcoming writers out there and to those who want to start writing : “You can write, you can tell that good story. All you have to do is start, no matter how rough and patchy it is, you have to START.

Quick tip: Never throw papers in the bin, never delete that story you think is unworthy. Nkoyo was a story I started out and I didn’t feel it was worthy enough but few months down the line it is now among the stories on my blogsite.

I am an Upcoming writer, I love to grow and expand my horizons and I want that for you as well.

QXoxo

Theunusual_writer💕.

Thank you so much for reading💕.

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