We Are Able

Episode 21

Since the day before when my aunty’s home was burnt,
she hadn’t spoken a word to me. It made me almost go
insane.

My classteacher had taken us to her place at Magodo.

Since her husband was a london-based businessman,
we wouldn’t have any problem putting up with her till
further notice. Her two sons and only daughter were all
in the UK with their father.
Mrs Oyin called me into the parlour. Then, my aunt was
fast asleep.

“Why did you do that, Rose?” she asked me.
“It wasn’t intentional!” I replied her. I had begun to sob.
“I am not talking about the fire accident, Rose,” she
said. “That was the devil’s work and God must have a
good reason for it because according to a Yoruba
proverb, a King’s house that got burnt would only bring
about more beauty in the end. I am only asking why you
left the graduation ceremony like that.”
I couldn’t explain clearly. I didn’t even know what to
explain.

“I–I…” I couldn’t speak on. I was down in tears.

“Rose, congratulations!” she said.
“For what?” I asked. It was strange to me. What was
here to be getting congratulated for? For all I care, I
have only been a thorn in everybody’s flesh–my mother
imprisoned because of me, my aunt’s embarrassed and
rendered homeless, all because I am existing.
“Rose, guess what?”
“I can’t guess,” I said.
“Your poem won you a lot of prizes!” she said. “You
were announced as the best graduands of the
ceremony.”
“How?” I couldn’t believe my eyes. She must be joking.
“Do you mean that…that poem in which I lambasted
God?”
Mrs Oyin unzipped her bag and produced the piece of
paper into which I wrote the poem. I was shocked
when I checked and discovered three more stanzas
added to it:
Oh! my idle hands
Speaking idle words
Brain befuddled,
Like a mouldy cake
God isn’t an idol
And he is for real
He will forever heal
Taller than the heavens
Brighter than the sun
His ways are glaring
Though to us blurry
‘Cos we are human
Seeing a bit afar
Through the twilight
The stars bowed
The rainbow cowed
The gaoler turned the gates
Leading my mother out
Freedom at last!
I was shocked.

“Who added these stanzas?” I was quick to ask.

“Thanks to your aunt. She picked it up and recited those
stanzas offhand while looking into the paper blankly.

Everyone thought it was the continuation of your poem
and a round of applause rented the air for you in
absentia. The scream was deafening. They wished you
were around.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Rose. It was a standing ovation, unfortunately
you weren’t there. A lot of gifts were awarded–a
bicycle by the governor-representative, an electric
kettle, electric blenders, all for you. My car boot was
filled to the brim yesterday.”
“I don’t believe this,” I was confused.
“After the party, the PA to the Commissioner for
Education, Honorable Daniel, picked interest in the
poem. He asked to see the write-up, therefore myself
and your aunt brainstormed and came up with these. We
had to strain our brains to remember every word of the
three stanzas she had rendered impromptu. Then we
wrote it down here and showed him.”
“Awesome!”
“Not only that, Rose, Judimax, a publishing company
also showed interest in your poem and they asked that
you should provide them with nine more to add to your
anthology. You have won yourself a publishing contract
with them. They would publish you under the title:
Rose’s Anthology; The Voice Of The Deaf Mute.”

I wept. I was shy. How would I be able to face the
world? Didn’t I have my limitation? More so, how would
I be able to write nine more touching poems?

That one
I wrote came as a result of luck. I could write nine
more craps and make a fool of myself.
“Please ma, let’s forget about all that for now. I am only
twelve so what can I do? You said I won a lot of
awards ma. Where are they?”
“All gone in flame in your aunt’s store room.”
I wept.