Swinging a bucket into the kitchen, she scratched at her eyelids to get out of her sleepy state. She downed a cup of water and took the time to scan her environment now that the place was bright.
A carelessly disposed box in the bin, red material peeking out of it. There was a kettle on the stove which was equally propped on a stool, just as her saviour Tina, had said it would be. Or was it Valentine . . . Valerie---oh yes Valentina.
Well one shouldn't blame her, the memories of yesterdays events, to some extent, were a blurry mess. But she remembered feeling extreme frustration with all the inconveniences. Riding taxes, flying down here, taking the train, riding more taxes. And she was this close to being homeless for a day! If it wasn't for the angel in blue, who knows what would have happened.
She remembered Valentina wearing all shades of blue, from the hair scarf, sweater, down to the skirt that covered her shoes.
In her pocket, the phone vibrated. “Tchew,” she hissed before her friend began to spill apologies, reciting how he was so busy yesterday when she had called him.
“I figured you were. Someone could be dying and you'd not know because you were busy fucking around.” She bit out, the sound of the moans still clear in her memory of all things.
“I said I was sorry!”
“Oh, whatever.” She removed the kettle from the stove and dipped her hand in water sprinkling it on the stove's head. “Raheem, you know you're the only family I have in Abuja, don't you?”
“I know . . . it won't happen again.”
“If you say so,” she coughed, irritated by the leftover smoke. She slid open windows, leaning on the cupboards.
He was excited. “So where did you eventually spend the night. Booked a hotel or something?”
She scoffed, “what hotel? Like I have the money for that. A kind stranger let me stay at hers.”
“Oh. That's good, that's good.”
“I’ll be home by the end of day though.”
“Okay, do expect me.”
“Sure.”
Crossing the passageway, Adeola flinched, water spilling at her legs. She stared at the cause of her shock. Poking from under Valentina’s bedroom door was the head of a black striped cat. It looked like it was in the middle of an escape, eyes slithering at her. She grinned and waved and it made an unwelcoming noise.
“Well excuse me.” She padded to the guest room, the thought of work elevating her spirits.
***
There was nothing spirit elevating about it at all.
Adeola was standing on a small staircase, cool liquid sloshing down her forehead, tasting sweetness. She lost it there.
“Okay who's the person! The fu-uh-idiot . . .” a group of kindergartners by the snack stall had been staring at her, wide-eyed so she backpedaled, laughing. They laughed, but they didn't know that her's was of irritation.
A young boy in cream and purple uniform rushed to her in a furry of apologies. He reached for her hair, picking something off it and her mouth flattened when she saw the ice-cream pack in his hand.
Who would've expected that she'd be humiliated on her first day. The older students peeking through the windows mummured, some apologizing along with the culprit. The said boy was bowing, fidgeting as if he didn't know what to do with himself. The card hanging from his neck read ‘Michael Okoye. Health Prefect.’
Releasing a heavy sigh, she waved him off. “It's fine,” she drawled. “Just watch where you play, yeah?”
“I am so sorry Ma. It was truly unintentional.”
“Okay, English.” She mused, pulling wet hair out of her eye. “Top notch school as he said.” Though the way certain syllables bounced off his tongue made her head ache.
“Pardon? Ah---is there something I can do to make it up?”
“Nah. Just show me where the restroom is.”
He pointed in the direction and she found her way there, digesting the sophistication that reeked off the walls. She'd seen the school in pictures, did not pay it much mind and couldn't remember it looking this fine even the weirdly designed faucets were fucking gold. It took trial and error to get its workings.
She dipped a hand under the running water, wiping it down the chocolate dreads, one lock after the other. She sighed, checking how wet her shirt looked. The scent of the ice-cream was still there. Orange flavour. She chuckled. It used to be one of her obsessions as a child. She would do anything to buy one from the ice-cream vendor who frequented their street. Even steal.
“What are you doing here?” someone asked.
“I dey work for here,” Adeola said. Patting down on the shirt. (I work here.)
Her head lifted to see the person inquiring and she let out a small sound, surprised. "Hi!”
“Adeola! So the work you were talking about,” Valentina made a curve with sweater covered hands, “is here in Orchid Seed?”
Her mouth pressed into something that almost resembled a smile. Ah, It's been long since she's heard someone other than her mother say her name like that. So rhythmic. So Yoruba. “Yeah, I teach. I think I told you that.”
Valentina nodded, “Hold on could it be that you are the one that Mr Kosoko. . .,”
“Who's Kosoko?” she asked but the woman was coming into her space, reaching up. She felt Valentina touching the locs and immediately stopped her.
“What’re you doing?”
“I don't know what that is, but it's still on your hair. Behind there---I’ll just get it off for you.”
“Oh,” She let go of her, allowing Valentina to do whatever she was doing, drinking in the soft features of her face, the slightly blemished copper skin.
“Done.” Valentina was pulling out her phone and gasping. “We have a meeting with Mr Kosoko now. Be fast! The man does not play with his time!”
Adeola’s legs doubled after Valentina. “What---Wait. Please slow down. I don't know who that is!”
***
The principal, Mr Kosoko, paused his speech and a woman he called Ms Pauline passed papers around. It creased in Adeola's hand as she gave it a quick scan. Events scheduled for the term including competitions, debates and seminars. In short, boring stuff.
But one thing that piqued her interest since entering the meeting room was how everybody looked like they were about to walk the runway in their most out-of-pocket outfits. She'd been glad to find out that Orchid Seed teachers weren't bound by a dress code and she'd thrown herself into a random old shirt and loose pants which just made her feel like she didn't try at all. Designer logos glared at her. Ms Pauline's glasses were fucking Christian Dior. The forty thousand naira monthly salary and this damn display correlated.
And suddenly, she wished she had rich parents. Ah yes, she had once did.
“. . . Oh and we have a new addition to our crew.” The principal was saying and Adeola sprang up. “She is your new colleague, Ms Adekola.”
“Hello. I'm Adeola Adekola. Still kind of a rookie and I'm looking forward to working with y'all. Please be patient with me.” She sat back, flexing her hands. Very professional.
Someone was whispering. “Did you hear the way she talked? She must be an IJGB.”
“What’s that?”
“An I Just Got Back---”
A shush dissolved their conversation. Adeola kept her attention on the principal who was still talking about something she couldn't recall.
“She will be teaching Geography science along with Ms Ude.” his hand directed her gaze to the Ms Ude. It was Valentina. She sat in the far end of the table near the exit. Her eyes were wide like precious stones, staring back. Adeola nodded at her in respect.
She could recall him mentioning the surname Ude in the interview held online. Thank God her co-worker was a nice person.
Mr Kosoko clapped, ending the mumurs. “And that reminds me. Ms Ude. I reviewed your class' results. It was, er, unexpected. What is going on?”
Eyes landed on Valentina and she began, voice tentative. “I know sir. It wasn't the best. But I assure you, they will do better next time.”
“Thats what you said last term. And the one before that! It's always they will do better. Why don't you do better for once.” His voice was biting. “Are these the kids that are supposed to be writing their external exams by this time next year?”
“I am very sorry sir but I---”
“Its because you're not the ones those mothers are pestering! Maybe that is why you are lazing around as if I don't pay you.”
“Maybe it's because you're a terrible boss,” she deemed it fit to add.
Valentina was struck dumb in her seat. Gasps ensued.
Mr Kosoko faced them, “Who just said that?”
The people in her row were turning heads. She too turned back.
“Nobody said anything Sir,” stated Ms Pauline, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
I thought I heard an insult?” He continued, “Ms Ude, this situation cannot remain like this. We have to fix it. I will just. . . I can give you an ultimatum.”
Valentina’s hand clasped the other. “What do you mean?”
“By the end of this term, you must raise SS-2's score's to a hundred percent. Anything lower than that, you vacate your position.”
Adeola and the others gasped.
She raised a hand, “Does that include me?”
“Well yes. Think of it as a probation period.”
Her hands fell limp. “I see.”
Everyone began to complain that it wasn't a fair thing to do. The man's nose twisted upward and he gathered his belongings. “Oya, go back to work. Go. It's past nine.”
Soon they were all out of the meeting room. They didn't miss the chance to peek at Valentina still rooted to her chair, disbelief painted over her face.
Adeola was strolled to her when another person with red fulani braids, Ms Pauline, approached Valentina so she waited. But Ms Pauline just stopped behind her, stared at Valentina’s back for a good minute and left the room.
It was just the two of them in the room now.
“Hey,” she tested but got no response. She was about to leave when Valentina began to speak.
“I don't understand . . . Am I supposed to manufacture the one hundred percent? The children don't read.”
Adeola wanted to ask her how correct she was about that information but she remained quiet.
Then Valentina got up and turned to her, brows creasing. “What?” she asks in a defensive manner.
“I---I didn't I say anything.”
She sighed, “I guess you can blame me. It's my fault you're implicated.”
Adeola blinked. “Well, now that I think about it . . .” her job was on the line too and she was just registering the fact.
“As a teacher, I try my very best to make sure they understand the material.”
“Maybe your best isn't exactly the best,” She said offhand.
Valentina took two steps backward, head tilting to the side. “Oh so I'm an incompetent teacher!”
“When did I say that?”
“Thats what you're saying.”
“I meant maybe there are reasons that could explain why the kids perform so poorly.”
The senior teacher scoffed, hands akimbo. “If a person is stupid and chooses to remain stupid what am I supposed to do about it?”
God, the woman's mouth was venomous. A no-nonsense instructor. She could almost picture Valentina with a cane as she thought the young scholars, their small bodies shivering in fear.
Adeola stared her straight down, hands in pocket. Then she smirked. And I thought this job was gonna be boring.
“Of course, they would not learn.” She stated in an airy voice, gazing ahead as if speaking to someone behind Valentina. As if she thought the same, the woman looked about, perplexed and probably thinking something was wrong with her. She wouldn't be only one to think that.
Confusion morphed into glares as she grabbed her bag, muttering something.
Someone entered the room, a young girl. Before they can say anything
Valentina spoke:
“You have a class. I hope you can handle it, Ms Adekola.”
“Challenge accepted, Ms Ude.”
The woman turned to leave and Adeola wasn't sure if that was an eye roll or not.
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