"often we hope, less often we despair but all the time we believe that things can change"
- Michael James
December 25, 2001
In the deepest well of trouble lies a shining pebble of hope for it is the way nature strikes her balance, good and bad, pain and pleasure ,hope and despair.
The cockerel crowed triumphantly heralding a new day, it crowed with a feverish delight entirely oblivious of what ill the day fated for it. The atmosphere was cold but it was charged feverishly with happiness. People were beginning to talk excitedly, some had already brought out their huge silver pots to commence oiling while children ran about playing "police catch the thief". I stood on the cemented floor of the bedroom I shared with all my siblings, looking out the window taking in all that was happening. I walked lazily to the door and opened it to find Papa just outside the door waiting. Quick as a squirrel he handed me two twenty five liter black gallons and walked of as my good morning stuck in my throat.
> "Joe!!!!!!!!!" I called out after I had decided not to bear this burden alone. "What!!!!!!" he retorted and this enraged me. I walked into the room and pulled him by his ear. After I had dragged him a good distance I gave him a gallon and proceeded outside. He reluctantly followed. As we walked I observed what was happening, people seemed happier today than any other day. The old woman who sold kola nut ,always with a frown was laughing jovially as a group of playful children ran past her shouting their greeting in unison. Papaiyo the mad man was even dressed today in a neat short and t shirt. I wondered in surprise whether there was anything Christmas couldn't do. When we arrived the long queue of empty gallons waiting to be filled was disheartening. The line stretched long adorned with multiple colours from the numerous containers it was composed of. Joe cursed loudly and kicked our gallons in frustration but I paid him no attention.
> By the time we returned the sun was well up, casting warm radiance about us but we were not in the mood. I knew inwardly that there wouldn't be breakfast but I had dared to hope. Having had to carry two heavy gallons for a good distance( Joe couldn't keep up) my belly warriors were on a serious riot, to deny them their demands until afternoon would be a disaster. I heave a sigh of relief when I see a bowl of bean cakes with another of pap, both steaming. Then Papa came and lifted both bowls as well as my hope and disappeared with it. He emerged sometime later to remind me that there was wood and it was meant to be split. I grimaced at this news and walked away. I went to the room, ransacked my my only jean trouser and pulled out my wallet, then I began to count one....two....three....four....five. Wait something was wrong. Five two hundred naira notes . There was a sixth I was certain.
> A wave of realization hit me, one of my siblings had taken it and I knew who but I was not going to ruin Christmas by ranting over this....I will wait. Some hours later I stood over a pile of split wood and brought my hand up to my face to wipe a sweat from my brow. "Finally" I muttered under my breath. By the time mama finished making lunch and I had searched my plate of rice to find no lump I was feeling moody. I remembered giving her money to buy a fowl, she had insisted on beef but I had refused arguing that since I was the one bringing the money that it was only fair that I got to decide what type of meat we were going to have. In the end her wisdom her prevailed she had bought none and saved the money.
I couldn't stay in the house much longer least my whirling internal storm be let loose . I took a walk away from a failed Christmas into the road with the constant wisps of more successful ones wavering ever so slightly before me above and out of reach. My belly warriors grumbled still, I willed myself to ignore them. As I walked I kept wondering whether the day could get any worse, I had forgotten of the most celebrated common form of telepathy "speak of the devil and he will appear" . They did appear too all dressed in baggy clothing but well resolute in their intent. I tried to run but saw a glint of metal tucked under one trouser and stopped short in mid stride. "Come here" they said and I obeyed slightly thankful I had left my wallet at home . When one of them probably the leader asked me what I had in my pockets , I was suddenly aware that this was a day I would never forget.
BY UCHE OSITA JAMES
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