So, I wrote this story a while ago, but I thought it would be a good read for some people out there (hopefully :)). Believe it or not, it's based on a true event that I witnessed first-hand. Here goes:
“Are you really an orphan?” Mr. Gaskiya
asked again with a raised brow. The tone of voice he chose to use was one that
got many youngsters confessing even sins they had not committed. He knew what
effect his voice had, and he was sure it would work in this situation.
“Yes, I am,” the Orphan declared adamantly,
sweating profusely now.
Mr. Gaskiya regarded the Orphan in surprise,
looked at the paper in front of him, and shook his head sadly; but he asked the
Orphan no further question. He only wrote down some things in his notepad and
asked the boy to go without raising his head.
“But… but, but what… the scholarship? What
about the… the scholarship?” The Orphan
asked with big, frightened eyes. Snakes of sweat rolled past his cheeks
simultaneously, even though the room was air-conditioned cold.
“We’ll see…” Mr. Gaskiya muttered, and
seeing that the Orphan wanted something specific to tell those who sent him, he
added in his most official voice, “If you are shortlisted, you will be
contacted shortly, we have all your details. Have a good day, son.”
The Orphan seemed to be satisfied with this
answer, at least it was an answer, though he knew the scholarship ought to be
awarded or not on the spot; he managed a shaky twist of his lips, brushed his
hand across his well-moistened face and scuttled out.
When the Orphan got home three hours after
leaving the scholarship venue, he met another set of interrogators outside his
house.
“What took you so long?” The female one
asked sharply, as soon as he turned the corner. She was naturally a nervous and
overbearing woman. She had been shifting uneasily about in the room since the
Orphan left for his interview. She had eventually dragged her male counterpart
out to sit in the veranda, awaiting news.
The Orphan did not want to answer the
question. He could not tell them he had been roaming the streets, wondering if
they would be satisfied with his answer. Somehow he knew they would not be
satisfied with his answer. They had heard when the radio man had announced that
those who qualified for the scholarships would be told on the spot. They had
heard it more than twice in that month; and both times, both of them had smiled
at each other then, and looked at him with unconcealed hope in their eyes. He
was somewhat relieved that it was over. They had been goading him about the
interview since it had first been announced on the radio.
He was saved
from answering this question by the male counterpart’s “So what’s the news?”
The way he said it with a toothpick sticking out his mouth, even though the boy
knew it was only garri and groundnuts he had eaten, revealed that he was only waiting for good
news.
“He said he would contact me,” the Orphan
blurted.
“What!” the woman exclaimed and jumped from
her seat; the Orphan sprang backwards and covered his face.
“It’s not my fault. It was Mr. Gaskiya…”
“Stupid boy, didn’t I tell you to avoid
those you knew? There were a hundred other interviewers.” She began to pace,
immediately muttering to herself loud enough to make the Orphan hear something
about stupid boys.
“There were only five interviewers, and they
just directed us to enter the rooms. We did not see the people inside,” the
Orphan replied, now fifteen steps away from the female’s hand.
“That means no school for you then...” the man who had all the while kept
calm said, stretched noisily, spat the toothpick out of his mouth and stood up
to go back inside.
Mr. Gaskiya emerged from the corner.
“Just wait there a second, Mr. Sunkan,” he
screamed, a mixture of indignation and surprise showing on his face. He seemed
to have been running. He was panting.
The woman faced him defiantly. The man
turned back with an expressionless face. The Orphan looked like he was about to
run.
“What do you mean by what you did this
morning? How dare you send your own son to interview for a scholarship meant
for orphans?”
