Palm lines - Episode 3

Palm lines

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I expected it since she was already due for marriage but I didn't think it will be so soon.

"You're not even bothered"
"Why should I be bothered? She's my sister, I should be happy" 
"I didn't say you shouldn't be happy but Ifechimererika, I dighi eme gi ? (Dont you have shame?)"
"Mom" I paused,  "The eldest sister should be the one to lead the way so the rest can follow," 
"I'm not the eldest, I have an elder sister"
"Who is married, you're eight years older than Ego" she paused then she busted into tears, that was her manipulative tactics to get me to soften up and it worked.
"Erika I'm tired, you're one prayer point that God is refusing to answer and I'm tired of praying." Mom confessed and I could almost hear myself scoffed. 
Mom wasn't alone on that prayer transit!
"We have to find some other ways" she suggested and I raised my brow at her. Hopefully mom didn't have anything diabolical up her sleeves; she can't be that desperate!
"What other way?" I asked curiously and she cleared her throat. 
"Mama Chioma knows this powerful prophet." She paused, she lost me there . I've never been the kind to believe in prophets and their spiritual assignments.
No way!
"I can't"
"This man works magic, they say people who go to his place gets married in three months" "Three months?" I asked in interest and she nodded. 
"When should we go?" I asked and mom widened her eyes in surprise. 
"When? Even tomorrow

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. We can go, we can go to the man's church tomorrow."
"Mom I have my own church and as it, I'm missing choir rehearsals" 
"What has the church given you since you've been going? Nothing, no miracles, nothing. Don't waste your chance oh" Mom stressed and I thought of the possibility of getting married early.
The next day,  mom along with Mama Chioma and I despite how crazy the whole idea seemed, set out to this prophet's place. 
For a while in the public bus, I felt like I was going out of the Christian way. "It's a Church oh" Mama Chioma grazed her shoulder against mine. 
As though she was reading my mind.
"I don't understand why you're carrying your face as if I'm taking you to one herbalist house" she chipped in and she looked into her eyes.
"I wasn't thinking of it" I lied.
"I'm thinking of our choir ministration" I chipped in.
We finally walked to the site of the prophet. It was a very small building in Ikorodu. I looked at it from afar then I let out a sigh. 
It was my first time ever trying such method, even though they tried convincing me it was a church.  I wasn't still convinced. Something inside of me knew it wasn't really a church.
My suspicion was confirmed after i walked into the building. There were burning candles on the floor, crucifix and a big Bible on a table. Beside was a man performing what seemed like an assignment on a lady. 
There was no church member just a group of members dressed in blue gown praying. 
I watched as the prophet severally laid hands on the woman's belly. "In nine months time, you shall celebrate!"
"Amen!" The lady and her mother shouted. They left shortly after he ministered to them. 
Then he faced me "The Lord has told me all of your problems" he began stretching his hands at me for me to hold it and i hesitated.
The man's hands were coloured purple as though he had dipped in hands in dye. How can Mama Chioma call this a damn church? Thoughts began to stream through my head as the man's hand was still stretched at me.
"Ifechimererika" Mama Chioma snapped and i unconsciously held his hands. "Don't be afraid, God has spoken to me concerning you."
 "You will get married eventually!" He added and i nodded. I didn't know whether to say "Amen".
"Amen!" Her mom shouted alongside Mama Chioma, "Can't you say Amen?" Mama Chioma asked and i muttered 'Amen'.
"You have come to the last bus stop, your problems have been solved" he spoke in tongues and danced and i almost rolled my eyes at the stereotype charade of all prophets.
The visit ended with mom paying a sum of ten thousand naira to get a supposed spiritual water that was supposed to make me meet my soul mate within a week.

So it had finally gotten to this? I thought as I walked out of the building. I turned back at the building then shook my head. Thoughts continued to stream through my mind, How will i look into the Pastor's eyes without feeling guilty?
My consolation was the water i collected. Maybe it would work some magic hopefully. 

"Sister Erika, good afternoon" a church member said on phone. Of course I recognized the voice, sister Faith; She has been assigned to call choristers that had missed church service. 
My phone has been banging with calls from church members who missed my presence in church.
"Good afternoon sister Faith" i answered.
"Well...we didn't see you in church today, so I decided to call. Hope no problem?"
"Nothing at all" i answered with guilt that was eating deep within as i remembered where i had gone to earlier on. Memories of the water given to get crossed my mind again.
 "It's my mom..she called me" "I hope she's okay"
"She is, my little sister is getting married"
"Again? Ehya" Faith responded and I rolled her eyes.
 "This is good news na, which one is ehya that you're saying?" 
"No ..it's ...it's not" Faith stammered.
"How was service" i changed the topic, "It was horrible, we missed our alto part leader. Tumi just ruined the song for us" Faith explained and i laughed. 
"I was shocked that you didn't even come for Saturday rehearsals. You have to pay fine oh and a big one for being an executive" she joked and i laughed.
"I've heard oh"

The water was supposed to be effective for a week, two weeks went by and nothing happened neither did I have any symptoms of STI, I still had to wait before conducting an HIV test. 

I resumed on Monday with a broken heart. My expectation were not met. No one made advances at me. My mom had to ask me if she used the water as instructed.
Of course i did! I followed every damn instruction given. Maybe I had a dead luck I have to accept.
I walked into the staff room i share with two other teachers. There was no smile on my face. I found a wedding card on her desk. 
It's like everyone's getting married lately!
I sat on the chair carefully looking at the name on it. 
It belonged to one Miss Agnes a fellow colleague of mine who taught the students in the school English language. 
Miss Oloche, the social studies teacher who also doubles as a friend walked in almost immediately, "Have you seen Miss Agnes?" She asked looking at the card but i shook her head.
"How then did you get her card?" She asked and I gave a faint smile. "She left it on my desk"
"Why would she..." Miss Oloche complained, "Maybe it's because she didn't want you to feel bad, you know how you always get with stuffs like this"
"How do I get?" I asked, 
"Sad, envious"
"I would have congratulated her and perhaps, give her a big hug" i answered. Whenever people treat me this way, it makes me feel pathetic, really pathetic.
"See, the fact that I'm not married doesn't mean that it's the end of the world for me. I'll survive" I confessed trying to believe in those words. Mere words that were far from my actual feeling.
"I love your spirit Ma. People your age would have done crazy things but you..." She paused smiling at a  frustrated personality.
If only Genevieve knew how discomfited i was! One thing I've learnt so far was to curb all frustration before coming to school or else I'll transfer my frustrations on students.
"You're a good person I hope you know that?" Miss Oloche added and I responded with a nod.
"Thank you"


During lunch break, teachers would sit and gossip about students, the latest happenings in school. 
"Her own is too much!" Mrs James complained about another student.  "Her own is just to frustrate every student there and quite honestly, she's begining to frustrate me"
"Her matter cannot be as bad as Sharon Savage" Miss Oloche argued, "I've heard of that girl oh" i said drinking from a bottle of Pepsi while I took a big bite from the donut in my hand.
Ever since the term began, I've heard the name Sharon Savage more than I expected heard the principal's name. 
"She just only resumed this term oh but this girl can be saucy. This school is full of them. Just because her father owns one estate management job like that and he's stinkingly rich, they'll feel like they're above the law" Miss Oloche continued.
"What's her deal"
"She's always angry all the time, she doesn't smile in school. I've never seen her smile for once, that girl na real headache. This coming PTA meeting, I will complain to some parents ehn" she complained again and I chuckled. 
I knew she wasn't going to complain; not when she'll be receiving tips from the extremely rich parents.
"Maybe it's attention she seeks, I did a bit of psychology and it's easy to know these kids, some of seek attention. Some of them might be parental influences"
"I'm tired of her, let her do and go. I heard this her eighth school sef"


I learnt I had a few students under detention. I was made the supervisor over detention matters. I had six names on the list, after waiting for ten minutes with Miss Oloche keeping me company, a young girl walked in. 
 "Na she them put you with?" She whispered to me. It was easy to guessed who she was. The name of the list had Sharon Savage on it.
"I can't refuse it oh.

Read " Hotel Palava " by the same author ( Essien Eno )

. Mrs. Ajala specifically told me to handle them" I answered and Miss Oloche turned to Sharon. 
 "So you cannot greet abi?" she snapped and Sharon scoffed.
"Good morning" she answered intentionally fully aware that it was evening already. Miss Oloche hissed.  "What you're sowing in this school, you'll reap it. Mehn I can't wait for PTA meeting, I'll like to report to your father or your mother" she answered and Sharon took her seat bringing out a pencil and a book, it looked like a sketch book.
"Bye Bye Miss Erika" she chipped in leaving the classroom.
I walked up to her looking down at her, "Sharon Savage" I called out and she looked up at me. "Am I that popular around here?" She asked and I scoffed.
"Your reputation preceeds you"
"What can I say? I'm a celebrity" she replied then she returned back to what she was doing. It seemed as though she was making a sketch of something.
I couldn't make out what it was exactly.
"Are you drawing?" I asked and Sharon raised a brow at her. 
"What do you think?"
"You're not supposed to answer that question that way"
"It's a stupid question" she added. 
"That not the right answer to give a teacher"
"Does it look like I care?" She snapped and I exhaled to control my anger. Then i picked up the sketch book going through it. 
She had drawing of trees and faces on it.
"Give it back" She stretched her hands but i pulled it away. I was impressed by her work but i didn't let it show. 
"Give it back"
"Add please to it"
"Seriously?"
"That's the normal process to go through, you might be angry but I'm angrier. You're not the only frustrated person in the world, just know that some people are a lot more frustrated than you are. Your frustration is still learning work compared to that of others so don't come here and start acting as though God hates you alone. He hates me too!" I answered unconsciously then I sat on the desk just opposite Sharon.
That was really intense, I thought to myself.
"You will act nice to me whether you like it or not"

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