Chapter 2: The Genesis of my exodus

My father had not sent us any letter in weeks we were getting worried, my mother lost appetite for food and no longer ate, I for one lost my interest in anything other than school (I never had an interest in anything at all). I had returned from school, 4:12pm precisely I sat coldly on my father's rocking chair memorizing the new formulas we had been taught in school when a shabby dressed young man probably in his late teen years showed up. He wore a pair of knickers, an oversized pale sky blue shirt, an esque tie and a weirdly looking hat. I paid no much interest to him as he smelt like rotten fish, I for one always showed disgust for untidyness, something I picked from my father. He left as quickly as he came and maybe even quicker than he hoped to as his unpolished box shoes struck a stone which made him almost fall from the stairs in front of the house. "Mom" received a parcel from him with no accreditation as to who sent it and who it was meant for. She immediately developed cold feet as she claimed it could be my father's enemies at work trying to assasinate us with a parcel bomb as the news of my father's travel was no longer hidden, he had been gone so long any idiot could put two and two together, tho not many knew exactly where he went to but surely they knew he travelled some even speculated he had abandoned his wife for an owerri woman but nonetheless mom summoned enough courage to take a peak at what the parcel contakned. She took it outside the house with a tiny blade in her hand she ripped it open right there on the pavement, wards of mint cash tumbled on the floor and lo they were foreign currencies. The whole neighborhood was as though someone had beat a gong for them as everyone stopped their bustle to stare at mom who instantly sobbed. In a feat to get herself together, mom called for the help of my paternal uncle, Pa. Jideh, a short and rough man in his mid fifties. He had a short fuse and was incomprehendible at night. He took the money from mom and went straight through the crowd who had gathered to the district bank where he deposited the money which totalled the sun which I never knew, as no one considered me tangible to hold such information. I sat on my father's rocking chair for quite a long while, so long in fact I could no longer feel my buttocks mom's sore voice broke through the strange concentration I had on my book, "Go take a bath, you smell like school. And drop the book, while you're still sane at least"." Let the little man read, he has his father's blood, and this is an affirmation ". Pa. Jideh was back, held two large cockrels in both hands which mom used to commemorate the beginning of a new era for us. She called a few neighbors and acquaintances and threw a yard party which I for one did not show interest in also.