Lagos Daddy

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Lagos Daddy

Another day done, the sun is long gone and the reluctant moon shows only a crescent as it peeps around some clouds on this side of the earth, as though afraid of being spotted. Alas it has been seen by someone, with his arms in the air, head lifted towards the skies like one hoping to receive a gift from above, eyes are fixed firmly on the moon. He could certainly do with a gift right now; a different life would do just fine.

Thank God I am finally home he says as he walks through the gates into the now lonely yard.

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It is nearly 10:40pm, he will probably have to wake his wife to let him into the house. Good thing he still has call credit to call her with, lest his banging on the metal door may wake and anger the neighbors. He wouldn't want that, the last experience is one better left for memories.

His 9 year old daughter would be fast asleep. How tall she was now? he wondered, how was her day at school? What assignments did she get to do afterwards? Had she made any new friends or gotten into more fights on her way home? These thoughts played around in his mind as he stepped across her, sleeping quietly on a raffia mat on the sitting room floor.

Maybe I’ll get to see her in the morning before heading out, he thought, or maybe not.

To get to work in time he would have to be back out on the road at 4:30am, too early for her to be awake. He had to travel over 100km each day to get to ‘Oga’s’ (boss) house to start his job of ferrying Oga’s children to school before the traffic jams began to build up.

If only he lived closer to Oga’s (boss) house, then he wouldn't have to set out so early each day and would probably return home a little earlier with a chance to meet his daughter awake. He knew however that he simply couldn't afford it, so he had found the nearest affordable and comfortable place which turned out to be so far out he sometimes wondered if he still lived in Lagos.

Dinner was not on his mind and even though he loved to please his wife by showing that her efforts were appreciated, that bucket of water she had put in the bathroom for him would have to wait till the morning when he would ready to leave for work.

Lying next to ‘iyawo’(wife) as she told him about her day and how mama so and so had resorted to a fist fight in the market over a customer, his mind drifted between a world of his dreams and the reality that faced him each time he opened his eyes.

Like the loving husband he was, he listened without complain, being careful to add the reassuring ‘hmmmmm’ and 'ehen' where necessary. He would laugh whenever she said something funny. Soon enough, she was asleep and he was happy to join in. A journey to the land of his dreams was always certain to present him a better destiny.

Of course he was awake in time to beat his alarm clock to the 4am morning call. A quick prayer, an even quicker bath before wishing ‘iyawo’(wife) a lovely day on his way out. At this time of the day he would have to walk about 20 minutes to get an okada (motorcycle) to take him to the first of 4 bus stations as he traveled towards Oga’s (boss) house across ‘the land of opportunity’, Lagos, as it was so aptly called.

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The trip was one he had become accustomed to, tedious though it was, it had become second nature.
As always he arrived early with ten minutes to spare, a trait which had endeared him to his Oga (boss). This was always enough time to clean out the car and warm up the engine.

“You are always early, I like that” Oga (boss) would often say with a certain nod of approval.

While he warmed the engine, a loaf of bread and two balls of bean cake, washed down with some colored water (he called tea) made breakfast. Then he sat to wait for the children to come out.

His job was fairly easy at this time of the year; he only had to take the children to and from school, then to the occasional sleep over or visits to friends over the weekends.

It was 4:08pm when he arrived to get small Oga from school. As he got in and slammed the door, someone knew he was in trouble so he quickly apologized.

“Ah, small oga abeg make you no vex o, na traffic do make I late eh! e joor”

“Just shut up and drive, why didn't you set out earlier? Foolish man" retorted the seven year old boy. "Do you know I have been waiting for over five minutes now!!!!”

Those words definitely hit their mark

“Shut –up!! Don’t you know I am old enough to be your father” then turning round to locate the child in the back seat with a stare that could suck life out of him he would scold him for being so insolent and throw a few slaps at this face amidst some firm knocks to the center of his head before feeling satisfied.

That scene happened only in his mind of great imaginations.

Instead he turned round to small oga and tried to explain that he had been to pick up the younger of the two siblings first as the other driver had called in sick. This he did with each sentence punctuated by an “I am sorry sir”.
He would have preferred the action going on in his head but as he stared at the child all he saw was the image of his 9 year old princess and her voice as she said through sleep shut eyes that morning while he tiptoed out of the house to work
“baba, ejoor ma gbagbe skoofis mi o?” (daddy, please don’t forget about my school fees).

He had promised to have it by the end of the month which was only two days away now. As the image became blurry and his eyes began to sting he realized he had tears in his them so he said again, with defeat in his voice,
“I am sorry small oga”, then backed out the car and started the journey home.

He would love to go home early for a change to watch his daughter say goodbye to her classmates as they walked by the house on their way home from school. He longed to see her running toward him with a huge smile on her face as she shouted “daddy!!!”.

In time past when he had been lucky enough to experience such, he would pick her up, throw her into the air where she would spread her arms out pretending to be a bird for a few seconds before falling back into his firm and ever secure arms. Then she would make him promise to always catch her and never let her fall. This he did each time with all his heart.

Well not this early he thought and certainly not in company of a sack letter (if he would get one at all). He was well aware of what led to the downfall of his predecessor and wasn't about to put up a repeat performance.

Times like these made him grateful for having only one child and for refusing to take on another wife despite pressure from his mother and the permission of his culture and religion. The thought of the hardship and disappointment he experienced during the 2years he spent without a job had kept him in check.

As he pondered, something else hit him. He wanted the best for his daughter and he wanted the best out of her, hence he would stomach such insult from a child just to keep the income steady but it still wasn’t enough to make her what he wanted.

She still preferred Yoruba to English and even by his standards her English was poor. Maybe if she attended a better school there would be some improvement and she would begin to sound like small Oga, but how could he afford that.

Small Oga had blown off most of his anger on a phone call to his best friend telling him of his driver’s incompetence.
He was now more sober and was ready to once again fraternize with ‘foolish old men’.

“eh driver, when will my daddy come home today?”

The reply was short “I no know o”

This was the plight of small Oga. Daddy often got home after he was asleep and would still be sleeping when he had to leave for school.

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Mummy was constantly touring the world on business trips and conferences, so all he had were his younger brother and the maid, neither of whom were any use when he had homework to do, like today. He would often walk into his room to find a stack of toys, clothes and the latest TV games but hardly the presence of his parents. A few times mummy had dropped off at school to tell him she was back from the last trip but by the time he got home she was gone again.

For him, skype was the only thing that made him have a mum.

Lunch was waiting at the table and afterwards the boys progressed to what kids do best; A few rounds of play fights then hide and seek then television time. Home work was done before dinner happened and shortly after, two weary bodies lay asleep in front of the television. The maid got them both into bed and hoped Oga wouldn’t be too long so she could leave for home as well.

As he sat before his table with several files, a desktop computer and two phones that had not ceased from ringing all day, Oga thought about home.

He called the maid to ask how the kids were and after being told they were in bed and his food was on the dining table he released her home as he would be home much later than initially expected. She needed only to lock the door and put the key under the flower pot where she would find it in the morning when she came to ready the boys for school.

My boys, how tall are they now? He wondered. He was getting tired of seeing how long they looked laying in bed. He wanted to know if small Oga’s voice had deepened or if he had begun to sprout some pubic hair. Had his younger boy scored another goal with the school’s junior team today? Were there any girls small Oga was getting fond of at school? All that would have to wait though, the longer he spent in his thoughts, the longer he would have to stay at the office.

He tried to convince himself as he had done several times in the last 7 years that he would get back to family after concluding this contract but he knew the cycle all too well, something new always came up. Something which would be the 'last one'.

Meanwhile on the other end of town, somebody was changing buses and haggling with okada riders. He was almost happy he didn’t own a watch; that constant reminder that time was not slowing down for him. Checking ever so often that the biscuits he had gotten his daughter didn’t fall off in the last bus he was on. Whatever time he got home, he would wake her and feed her the biscuits, they were her favorite after all, then he would cradle her till she falls asleep again. Home was never far from his mind though somehow his presence was barely felt where his mind was.

The ice-cream he got small Oga would have melted by now. He had forgotten it in the car as he hurried into the office complex trying to catch up with a skype meeting with partners in Dubai. If only he didn't have the intercontinental time difference to contend with, why else would he have to be working still at this hour.

On both sides of the great divide across social and economic strata, the struggle to be a good parent remains real and rife. It is a struggle against time and the endless demands for life. The struggle is the one thing which apparently unites the people across board.

We are all in a hustle and our common denominator is the opportunity cost we bear.

Lagos daddy