Premier date: 20th of January, 2019
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CHAPTER 1

Senior Secondary 3.Tomini was finally in ss3. This was the class one ended it all. This secondary school misery was going to end. She’ll be free soon from nagging teachers, who felt they had some power over your life just because they had a cane. Assignments, punishments, wearing school uniforms, Boring assemblies, horrible lunch.  Oh Lord, there were so many things she couldn’t wait to leave behind. She knew she still had university ahead.

However, university wasn’t like secondary school. There was this sense of freedom one felt after leaving secondary school; like your life was finally beginning. For many, the freedom to live however one pleased without your parent’s eyes looming over you was yearned for. Tomini would love that too; not having to explain some of her decisions, where she was going, what she was doing.

University made you feel like you were finally an adult, like you are finally in the real world. No one forced you to attend classes, to go to church. No one restricted you from going out or wearing certain types of clothes. You were your own responsibility. Well, sort of, because your parents still provided for your needs.

Teens were bound to be rebels, especially when alone to make decisions. Perhaps, this was why Tomini’s dad, Wale Odukoya, made the decision to send Tomini to a private university, a Christian one, where she would be restricted.

Private universities in Nigeria have been tagged “glorified secondary schools”. In religious private universities in Nigeria, the many rules dictate how you should live, what you should wear, and sometimes even what you eat. Worship is made compulsory, sometimes attendance is taken to ensure that students don’t wriggle their way out of worship. Penalties are attached to the defilement of these rules.

Depending on the institution, phones may or may not be allowed, or certain types of phones permitted. Not all private universities are owned by religious organizations, although many of the popular ones are. Things go down differently in the non-religious private universities.

Tomini tried to persuade her dad to let her attend a federal or state university. That was real university, in her opinion. What was university life without freedom? She failed in persuading him, and perhaps it was best that she was going to attend a private university.  Her dad had scolded her. Many wished they had the privilege and here she was trying to throw it out the door.

Private Universities in Nigeria were more expensive than government-owned schools. And the frustrating thing about education in Nigeria was that public schools could go on strikes at any time, most of them indefinite. The academic calendar was usually disrupted by this. ASUU, The Academic Staff Union of Universities, just as the name implies is the body of all academic staff of public universities in Nigeria. ASUU usually called strikes due to the government’s refusal to meet the needs of the academic staff, mostly not paying salaries. The point was to make the government meet their demands. As a result, students will have to stay home until the strike was called off. The strikes could go on for weeks or even months.

Asides that, social vices were more rampant and intense in public schools than private schools. Sexual harassment of students by lecturers was quite common also.

Tomini didn’t know the exact reason her dad was shipping her to a “glorified secondary school”, but she had accepted her fate, and it was probably for her own good. The stability and security, both of lives and academics, was guaranteed to a large extent and she had decided to stop being annoyed by her dad’s decision.

Her mom always accepted whatever decision her dad made for her, and the family as a whole without question. Her dad could ask her mom to put a finger in fire and she would do it without blinking an eye. She respected him so much. Her respect, in fact, could almost be interpreted as fear. Tomini used to notice her mother’s ambience when talking to her dad. If he said something that didn’t please her, she would avoid his gaze and murmur or keep silent.

She would sometimes rant to Tomini afterwards, express how she really felt and Tomini always wondered why her mom never spoke up to her dad. He came off as scary at times, yes, but he was her husband after all. Weren’t they partners? Weren’t they supposed to be a team, make decisions together, listen to each other, like partners should? How her mother fell in love with her dad was a mystery to her. Sometimes, she pondered on it.

Her mother, Olubusolami Ajayi was a fair skinned beauty with flawless skin and long black relaxed hair. She had impeccable taste in fashion, was gentle as a dove and had all the wife material qualities Nigerian men looked for; good cook, homely, submissive, beautiful. She had abandoned her law career shortly after giving birth to Tomini at her husband’s insistence or rather, command. He would rather his wife be at home, take care of the house and children, in this case, child, and do all the “wifely things” while he provided for the family.

He worked as a production manager in Coca Cola and His salary was more than enough for them. Besides who was going to perform Busolami’s duties if she was also working 9-5? Tomini didn’t comprehend how a woman like her mother, who was highly intelligent and had spent years studying to become a lawyer, could allow herself to be subjected this way …for the rest of her life.

Her mother was too good for her father. She had given up her ambition for his to thrive fully, and to look after Tomini, as well. Tomini wished her mother was fiercer, more courageous. There was absolutely no fight in her.

Tomi’s mind had wandered away from the book in her hand. Why were all these thoughts trooping in at this time? She was about to divert her attention back to her book, “Everything Good Will Come” by Sefi Atta when she heard her mum yell her name.

“Ma!”, Tomini shouted back as she stood up from the couch she was lying on. She strolled towards the kitchen where her mother was chopping waterleaf and shoko(A leafy vegetable) on the kitchen island. Her back was turned to Tomini.

“Tomini, season that chicken for me”, her mother instructed, immediately noticing her arrival.

A frown formed on Tomini’s face as she went in search for the seasoning cubes, curry, thyme and other spices she would need to do the task. She really did not want to be in the kitchen at that moment. She just wanted to lie on the couch and continue reading the novel she had been reading.

“Mummy, what are you cooking this night?”, Tomini asked her mom as she now crushed seasoning cubes with the tips of her fingers into the bowl that contained the chicken.

“Your daddy said he wants pounded yam.”

“Pounded yam ke. Mummy just make poundo instead na.”, Tomini told her mum.

Pounded yam was prepared by pounding boiled yam in a mortal using a pestle till a smooth paste was formed. The paste would then be moulded into portions and served. Poundo yam had come to the aid of many, taking away the stress of pounding and gave almost the same result as pounding. All one had to do was mix the flour in boiled water and turn continuously to make a smooth paste. It was faster and less stressful. In truth, pounded yam had its unique taste, and the difference between both was quite pronounced.

Her mum let out a snort as she transferred the chopped vegetables from the chopping board into the bowl that sat next to the board.

“You are talking as if you don’t know your dad. What he wants is what he wants. I’m not ready for any wahala tonight.”

Tomini kept silent as she mixed the spices with the chicken. She did not know how to pound yam and she didn’t think she was ever going to. It was too strenuous and unnecessary since one could make do with poundo.

“Tomini how many hours will you use to season chicken? Oya do fast and help me peel yam joor,“ she heard her mum say.

Tomini’s annoyance grew as she squeezed her face and set aside the bowl of chicken. She was already done with the chicken when her mother had told her to hurry up. She moved towards the cupboard where trays where kept, so she could pick up one where she would peel the yam.

“Tomi hurry up. Time ti lo (Time has gone). It’s already to 7. Your daddy will soon be back and I’ve not cooked the efo yet.”

Tomini let out a sigh on hearing her mother. She picked up one piece of yam and placed it on the island, opposite where her mother was now putting peppers and tomatoes and onions into a blender.

“Mummy, I’m already cutting the yam now”, Tomini let out, her annoyance growing even more.

“I know. Just hurry up”, came her mother’s reply.

Tomini said nothing as she got a knife from one of the drawers, ready to start cutting the yam into small circles.

Her mother raised her head from where she was blending the peppers and tomatoes and noticed the knife Tomini was now using to slice the yam. A frown formed on her face.

“Tomini, don’t use that knife to cut the yam now. Don’t you know the knife we normally use?”

Now Tomini was angry. First she couldn’t read her novel in peace and now her mom was annoying the hell out of her. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep herself in check. She did not want to say anything rude because that would just add fuel to fire.

“Mummy, which knife?”, she tried to ask as calmly as she could, her frown deepening.

“That big one with the brown handle o jare”, her mum snapped.

Tomini sighed as she dropped the knife she had been using in the sink and went to get the one her mum had described.

Her mum was now making the stew for the vegetable soup, and the sweet aroma filled the kitchen. She set to work, slicing the yam into thin circles as fast as she could. She didn’t want to hear another comment of how she was too slow or should hurry up.

“Tomi, why did you not wash this knife? You just dropped it in the sink. You know I hate this. Once you use something, wash it. Ah! ”, Tomini heard her mother say. She internally groaned. This was becoming infuriating. She loved cooking but not with her mum.

“Ah ahn, mummy, but you said I should be fast. “

…

It was Saturday morning and school was resuming on Monday. Tomini had mixed feelings. She was excited to be resuming school. It was her final year in secondary school and she couldn’t wait to get it over and done with. At the same time, she was also feeling sad.

The holiday had seemed long when they had vacated, and now she couldn’t explain where all the time had gone to. The holiday had lasted for a month and 2 weeks, commencing at mid July and now it was the first week in September. Some students would choose not to resume on the first day, some not until the week after. But Tomini was a prefect, The Library Prefect, and her school was very strict with prefects. They all had to resume on the first day and begin their duties. Assembly started at 8 am but prefects were expected to be in school latest by 7:30.

She had a lot of preparation to do. She had to take out her long braids, wash her hair and plait a hairstyle with her natural hair only. She also had to wash her school uniform, something she should have done since the weekend ensuing the vacation but had swept aside. She was grateful they had a washing machine, so that task would take no time and little energy.

Her room needed to be cleaned, and her bathroom washed. She never failed to do these every week, but right now, as she turned on her bed, she was thinking of forfeiting the later. All she wanted to do was sleep and not be disturbed. However, she knew her mum will walk in soon to drag her out of bed. House chores awaited her. It was at times like this she wished she had a sibling.

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