Returning to the Light

6:00am. 

Wednesday, 23rd April.

Ifesinachi Uzondu jerked up in excitement from her bed. Finally, the D-day had arrived. The day she'd been waiting for. The day she would be writing her final WAEC paper. 

"Isn't God great?" she mumbled to herself. Soon after, she lifted up her hands to the heavens to do what her parents taught her to always do first thing in the morning. 

"What a mighty God I serve. What a mighty God I serve. Heaven and earth adore Him, even angels bow before Him. What a mighty God I serve." 

The lyrics poured out like a river from the very depths of her soul. She expressed herself like never before. 

After singing and praying for thirty minutes, she undressed, wrapped her almost threadbare towel about her bare skin, and entered the bathroom. She could not attend the general family devotion which they constantly had by 5:00am every morning in their living room. Her parents understood why she could not attend. Ifes had done overnight reading and praying. She had finally slept by 4:00am.

Ifes and her family lived in a three-bedroom flat that wasn't elite-class standard. It had a single bathroom and toilet which they all shared, and the compound was as good as a Nigerian face-me-I-face-you house's. 

She opened the door and stepped out, making sure she clicked shut behind her. She whirled around and made for the bathroom, but paused when she saw her mother. 

"Good morning, Ma!" She bowed slightly as a sign of respect. 

Her mother smiled. "Good morning. How was your night?" 

"My night was—" Before she could complete that statement, her sister Udochi interrupted her with her greetings. 

"Good morning, Ifes." Udochi walked past her mother and her sister to the kitchen to wash the dishes she and her brothers had had their breakfast in.

"I know you are prepared for your last paper, my dear?" Ifes' mother, Mrs Oluebube, asked after Ifes replied to her sister's greetings. 

Ifes smiled confidently. "Yes, Mum!" 

"I trust you my dear." Oluebube patted her daughter's back gently. "Now, go and take your bath. Your food will be waiting." 

Ifes had her bath immediately and came out with her body still dripping wet. She rushed back into the room she shared with her sister. Her sister was already dressed in her school uniform and ready to go to school with her brothers. 

"Okay, sis, I am off to school with Uchenna and Obinna. See you!" Udochi waved at her sister, grabbed her backpack and bolted out of the room. 

"Goodbye, see you, too!" Ifes waved back at her sister despite knowing Udochi couldn't see her. 

In no time, she was done dressing, she took out her mathematical set and the other exam materials she would need, and quietly stepped out of the room. 

She went straight to the food her mother had kept for breakfast on the centre table in their living room. 

A tea mug sat beside a covered ceramic plate. They both had the same fading design of Jasmine flowers etched on their outer surface and edges, like a pair of overused twin sets. She opened the plate and sighed when she,  saw four thin slices of bread. She needed no soothsayer to tell her before she knew the cup contained tea. 

She rotated her head back and forth looking for a little stool. She sat down on the wooden one closest to her, munched on the bread and slurped the watery tea. Soon after she was done, she thanked her mum. 

She stood, scooped her plate up to wash them in the kitchen. Her intent was cut short when her mum told her not to worry, saying she would wash them herself. Ifes tried protesting but her mother insisted. Ifes finally gave in. When she was about to step out the door, her mother held one of Ifes hands between her soft, motherly ones. "I am proud of you," she said.

"Thank you, Mum," Ifes said and held her mother tight in a hug. Her mother smelt like their kitchen, a mixture of spicy and soapy scents.

It was difficult for Ifes but she broke the hug anyways. She wanted to be in school before the general assembly which was starting in twenty-eight minutes' time. 

She walked through the alley, intermittently greeting the neighbours she came in contact with. She hadn't gotten the chance to greet her dad that morning because he had long left for work before she woke up. He was a commercial driver, plying the bumpy Awka to Onitsha roads, in his bus, everyday. 

Dike street  was like any other typical Nigerian street, littered with junk and debris here and there, ragged by the numerous potholes and dotted by the jam packed buildings, housing angry families. Ifes scrunched up her nose to block off the horrible stink of garbage. She let out a sigh when she finally passed the eyesore.

She navigated the streets to get to the main road. As she hastened her pace, her heart, ringing with thanksgiving, echoed, "Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus!" 

She kept walking until she got to the Eke Awka market roundabout, which was where she was supposed to get either a bus or a motorcycle, popularly known as Keke or Okada in these parts, that would convey her to her school, Heritage Comprehensive High School. 

The roundabout was crowded, as usual, with loud and rough hawkers who boldly shoved their wares in the face of the prospective buyers. Bus drivers and their conductors—Agberos were loading their empty buses to the brim, so much that passengers were squeezed like sardine in a can. Students moved around the market roundabout, either waiting for a conveyor to carry them to school, or walking down to the school themselves. Civil workers, labourers, and the self-employed were also seen at the roundabout. Some had entered the empty buses while some, who weren't very fortunate to get a vehicle in this early morning rush, trekked to their working place. 

Ifes crossed over to the other side of the road opposite the roundabout. Not too long after, she heard and saw two drivers fighting and cursing, straining their voices in a frantic bid to be heard. The reasons were not far-fetched. It was obvious they were quarreling over a passenger. 

The first time Ifes saw something like that, it startled her. With time she got used to it. Neither her nor the crowd at the market roundabout will bat an eyelash at such a thing any longer. 

"Thunder fire you!" 

"I say na you thunder go fire first!" The driver who was first insulted retorted. 

"God punish your father, Onye Ara (mad man)!" The second driver hissed and spat on the floor.

"God go punish you o, and all una great great Grandpapa together!" 

Their voices slowly faded away as she walked forward, away from the hullabaloo. Out of curiosity, she turned her head back in time to see the Agbero boys instigating the two drivers to keep fighting. Out of the five Agbero boys, three of their faces were familiar. She had reached out to them in one of her evangelism outreach. She remembered they didn't give their lives to Christ that day, rather they ended up making advances to her. She had walked away from them disappointed, and a bit embarrassed. 

"O na aga? (Are you going?)" A Keke pulled in,  front of Ifes; its driver shone his kola-coloured teeth at her, prompting her to enter.