FAMILY

"Oga give me the money please. Stop wasting my time. I have other customers to attend to. " I said while struggling to get a customer to pay his bill. It was obvious he was drunk but that wasn't my concern. He drank four bottles of Guiness and wasn't willing to pay. "Fine girl I will pay you. Come and sit close to me now. " he replied slowly. "Keep me my money Jor. " I barked. "Sorry oo small madam I will pay you. You are rude. Try and be nice like your mother. " he said while handing me a thousand naira note. "Oga your money is not complete. " I said. "How much did I give you first? " he began. I groaned in frustration and began explaining things to him. I knew the explanation was irrelevant because he was drunk but I still made my point clear. I collected the balance from him and moved to the next customer. This forms one of the major reasons why I hate our bar. You struggle to get customers to pay thier bill then struggle to get them to leave when you want to close. I handle the afternoon shift while my mother goes home to prepare lunch and rest. It was 23 minutes past 2pm and I knew I had about 4 hours of torture at the bar. I always look forward to when my shift ends. 

Shortly later,  a small boy came running  to our bar and said "Aunty one man is calling you over there. " he then pointed to Greenland brothel. "Tell him am not coming and don't you ever come back here. " I charged. He ran back to where he came from. "Small madam your shakara too much oo. They called you and you refuse to go. Do you know how many of the women in Greenland would have rushed to answer that call? " said an elderly man. I ignored him and sat on my Mother's Chair.  "He expects me to abandon the bar and answer him. Who the hell does he think he is?  They think we are all the same here. " I was still muttering to myself when I was tapped on the shoulder. I quickly looked up and saw the person that tapped me. There he was, my long lost Father. We said nothing but stared around for a minute. 

I took out a plastic chair and offered him a seat. The customers were watching and I knew sooner or later, the news will be all round the neighborhood. People in my area say "You know a news is true if it comes from any bar in London." My heart was racing and I was almost trembling. "Don't worry I will be gone before your mother arrives. " said my Father. I became a bit relaxed. He then continued "I was here few days back. I know your mom wouldn't tell you. " I looked at him and confirmed my mothers claim of how filthy he had become. He looked more tinner, his hair was thicker and longer and his skin darker. He looked pale and unkept. I remembered how he kept telling me he will return home with lots of money, how our lives will change and how comfortable we will be. Judging from his physical appearance, it was evident my father became poorer. 

"My Child. You've grown up. I can't wait to see Osifa, Kiki and Tami. " he said. "Will you recognize them? " I asked while staring right into his eyes.  Clothed in shame, he lowered his head and said nothing. "Do you even know what Tami looks like? " I continued. He still said nothing. "I am very sorry my child. I don't deserve your sympathy or care. I deserve no second chance. Your mother said she will send me to jail if I go near any of you. " My mother wasn't bluffing when she threatened to send him to jail. She's a strict woman and he knows it. My mother prides herself in the fact that she does what she says she will. Its more like am oath. If she states it, then it cant be reversed. Like when she said she will have nothing to do with my Father the moment he leaves for Libya or step his feet outsude the borders of Nigeria. "So what are you suggesting "?  I managed to say. "I need a favor from you my child. " My mood immediately changed. I gave him a stern look and he knew I wouldn't be buying the idea. He continued "I currently stay in Room 127 at Greenland. I was thinking if you can bring your siblings to me Fetty even if its for a minute. Let me see my children one more time especially my son Tami. " He was shedding tears and I wasn't moved. You want me to take these kids to GreenLand brothel?  Father are you for real? " I was screaming now while be beckoned on me to keep my tune low. The customers were watching. "Small Madam come and give me and my guys whisky abeg" said a customer who just walked in. I got up and left. 

After I finished attending to the customer, I went back to the spot my Father and I were having a conversation but he wasn't there. I saw a note on the plastic table. I knew he left if there so I took it. Before going  home, I went into the bookstore close to our bar. I was well acquainted with the librarian so he let me borrow books at will. While I was preparing for my Senior Secondary school Examination, Layo and I studied in the Library. The library was dysfunctional to an extent. The books were few. You could study the whole books in the library in less than a year. I feel people in my neigborhood don't utilise the library so they call it a book store but the books there aren't sold. When there's so much to do in an area filled with the under privileged, who will read anyway. I find the library comforting. Sometimes, I sulk for almost an hour before reading. There were times I slept there too. Ever since my Senior Secondary school Examination ended, it was literature that took me there. I entered, waved to the Librarian, grabbed Wathiango's "A grain of wheat" and left without signing in or out. The protocols weren't well adhered too moreover I am a regular visitor.  

When I got home, I was surprised to meet my siblings at home. They were drawing lines with sticks in the compound. They should have been on  the streets playing. They return home past 7pm and right now, it was barely 6:30pm. They ran towards me chanting welcome while Osifa collected the sack I brought and took it in. I realised she wasn't wearing a shirt on. "Where is your shirt? " I asked her. "Ehmm I took it off. It was restricting me from playing. " she replied. "Do you think you are a child"?  I began. "The next time I see you without a shirt on, it will be the last time you will play outside. Do you understand?" I screamed while her bare nipples faced me. "Yes" she reluctantly replied and ran to get her shirt. "Sister We are hungry. We haven't eaten since we returned from school oo. " said Tami. My mother makes lunch before taking over the night shift from me. Today she didn't and we all didn't know why. "Okay Let me fix something for  you guys . " I said. I took out a 50 naira note and gave Kiki to get Sugar from Musa's provision store which was nearby. "Sister I want to eat noodles. When will we eat noodles? " beckoned Tami while pulling my dress. "Tomorrow " I replied. Osifa knew I was lying. The fact that my little ones go to school without lunch boxes or tips bother me. The fact that they own few clothes and a pair of shoes aside thier school scandals pains me. This is a fate I can't change. In thier state, they were better than lots of children in London area. All thanks to the Local Government Chairman Primary education was free at the London Primary school. Kiki returned with the sugar and I made Garri for them. I watch them consume the cassava flour mixed with sugar and water like hungry lions.  They ate quickly after which I asked Osifa to Wash thier school uniforms while Kiki cleans the dishes and I cook dinner. 

It took me about 20 minutes to decide on what to cook. Actually, there was nothing to cook. The grains of rice remaining was little. Only little garri was left. The palm oil container was empty. There was salt and no seasoning. All that was left was a tubber of yam and beans and there was no money to cook soup. My mother handles the finance of her business. Each day before closing the bar,  she counts all that was earned,  records it and takes out the little profit she makes on weekly bases. She shops every week. It was Tuesday and she was yet to shop. I knew there was a gap in our financial state currently. Maintaining the bar requires money too. We pay for its rent, we pay the light bill and for the  transportation of the drinks from the brewery in town to London Area. The peanut we earn from the business is reflected in our standard of living. More so, the bar is very small and customers owe a lot. Some people drink daily for a month then pay at the end of the month. I guess that's why people claim my mother robs her customers. We just take what's ours. We pay for house rent and light bill. We also feed and pay for medical expenses. All from the tiny bar known as LONDON BAR.  Very soon Osifa will be enrolled in a secondary school. The bar will provide the expenses. I guess our bar isn't a bad place after all and no matter how small in size it is, Mama Fettys's LONDON BAR always rings a bell. 

After eating the Boiled Yam I cooked for dinner. My siblings gulped cups of water. I told them to get dressed. We were going to Room 127 in Greenland brothel to see our Father. It was eleven minutes past 8pm. What I saw in the note my father left changed my mind.