FOR nearly eight years, Ameze was silent. She had tried to reconcile herself with all the contradictions she had
experienced, and tried to see her new life as a sacrifice for the survival of her people, who through the years had been imprisoned by poverty. She had worked hard to fulfill all her obligations to her captors and had started earning money for herself. But now, she had lost much of her beauty and good health. Although she was gradually becoming a shadow of her former self, her spirit fought on. To sustain her new lifestyle, she had to live on drugs, which Mr. Alberto supplied her every week.
Meanwhile, back at home, her parents were already getting anxious. Their ‘foreign investment’ had not yielded any dividend. They wondered what had happened to their daughter.
Most girls that travelled with her had been sending money to their parents. Some had built houses and opened shops at the various markets for their mothers. Mr. Ogieva had just completed his bungalow, having consistently received money from Isoken for six years.
One morning, however, Ameze’s parents had a surprise. Okoro was busy in his workshop when Chief Aghedo called on him. Ameze would phone them at 6pm. When it was around 4.30pm, her parents were already seated in Chief Aghedo’s parlour, waiting. Chief Aghedo had two daughters in Europe, one in Spain, the other in Italy. He and his three wives lived in a well furnished home, with telephones and other modern facilities, including a computer and a fax machine (which, however, were never used). Aghedo’s compound was a very busy one. On the ground floor of the massive two-storey building, his youngest wife operated a ‘Business Centre’, while the other wives had fabric stores on both sides of the compound. Chief Aghedo did no work. He lived on the rents from the two houses he had in the city.
At 6.O5pm, the phone rang. It was Ameze. Her father picked the receiver.
‘Hello!’ he panted. ‘Is that Ameze? Hello! Yes, my daughter, I’m your father.. . your voice has changed. What happened? For eight years, my daughter. Are you all right? We are dying here. You know, we sold that old home to send you abroad. Now we can’t pay the rents any more and the landlord has sent us out of the house. In fact, the rains of yesterday beat our belongings outside. Yes… What? Your sisters? They are sick; we took them to my sister in Ogida… Yes. No, not yet. What? We haven’t even eaten anything since morning. . .‘ At this point, Ameze interrupted.
‘Papa, you don’t have to worry so much. I have just sent some money to you. . . Please write down this number and try to get to the bank tomorrow morning.’
She urged her father to look for a competent construction firm to handle their house project. She also urged him to ensure that the girls went back to school immediately.
‘I’ll send you more money in four months,’ she promised.
‘Can I now speak with my mother?’
Mr. Okoro’s heart began to beat faster. It was too good to be true. He quickly handed over the handset to his wife and rushed outside.
‘My husband, what’s the matter Ehn?. . . Ameze?’ she asked her husband and talked to her daughter, all into the mouthpiece absentmindedly
‘Weren’t you waiting for me?’
‘Hello mum!’
‘Hello? Ameze, sorry. Are you all right? . . . Are you…’ After a few exchanges, Maria began, ‘My daughter, why did you abandon us all this while?’ she was almost at the point of tears.
Then, in a trembling voice, Ameze began to explain. ‘Mama, I’m dying here . . . It’s terrible here. You’re a woman, mama. Can you imagine? Even animals, beasts…
anyway. . . I just hope all of you will be fine..
‘Wait… Amen, what are you talking about?. . . what?’
The handset fell from her hand and she slumped. It took over four hours for her to be resuscitated. But she was never the same again.
Three days earlier, Maria had had an argument with three women in the market while she was buying some soup ingredients. Two policemen had passed by with an Alsatian nearly four feet from the ground. They were on the trail of a notorious criminal. One of the women, Mama Johnbull, started the inferno.
‘Any time I see this giant dog, I dey wonder wetin our girls dey do for Etaly. How person fit sleep with animal wey get this kind big thing? Imagine! Lai lai, I nor fit send my pikin to Etaly. Nor be me you see! Instead make hunger kill us together!’ Mama Twins, looked at Maria, mockingly.
‘I hear say your pickin dey there,’ Mama Johnbull drew closer.
‘Hope say she dey perform well well?’ Mama twins said, with an impudent look.
‘Chineke! So, your pickin dey Etaly, and you still dey price pepper like hungry man? Hope say she nor get problem sha?’ remarked the pepper seller, who had watched on in amazement.
‘Of course I do have a daughter abroad,’ Maria answered. ‘But how do you know the girls sleep with animals? Well, I know my daughter, she’ll never do such a thing. N-e-v-e-r!’ she boasted. Mama Twins sneered at her.
‘Abeg, go home and pray well well o, because I hear say na all of them dey do am. Where you think say them dey get the plenty money them dey send home? As you see me so, I be poor woman, but I nor fit send my pikin go do ashawo work.
This was really becoming embarrassing for Mrs. Okoro. But she must defend her daughter.
‘So, you think every girl abroad çloes prostitution?
Anyway, my daughter is different. She is doing a decent job over there.’
‘I don talk my own,’ Mama Twins concluded. ‘If na gari we get here, we go drink am together. . . Our grand mama them live well. Dem no do ashawo work for anybody. God forbid! tufiakwa!’ She spat on the ground and turned to a customer waiting to buy pepper.
As she left, the two women began to chatter.
‘But, see im wrapper. E no bi like woman wey get pikin for
abroad o,’ Mama Johnbull wondered.
‘Even me sef, I better pass am,’ Mama Twins added.
That night, Maria could not sleep. The traders had given her great food for thought. She wondered why she had allowed her daughter to travel abroad. If Ameze had stayed and married Frank, she would have had much peace and comfort. But all that was too late now. She couldn’t change anything now. She only hoped that, as the native doctor had assured, Ameze experienced peace and comfort.
By FELIX N. OGOANAH (Culled from His Book, The Return of Ameze)
