Losing and Living

"You're not listening, are you?" She asked with a knowing smile on her face.

I immediately caught myself and said, "I'm sorry, just a bit distracted."

"What were you thinking about?" She asked gazing into my eyes as if she could actually see something.

"Nothing important," I said wondering what exactly I was thinking of. "You were saying..."

"I was saying that I was just tired of sitting at home and doing nothing so I decided to enroll for this class. I mean, I could have taken programming lessons or learnt tailoring or something else but I chose driving. You can imagine."

"Do you regret it?" I asked hoping to find a partner.

"Nope," she replied, "it's just a bit scanty and before you, there was nobody else to talk to. The other guy looked way older and I probably looked 13 to him."

My disappointment fell as I laughed. "You do look 13."

She chuckled. "I know. It's so disadvantageous."

"How old are you really? "

"17."

"Well, 17 isn't much far from 13."

"You sound like someone I know. And it's when the usher in church leads you to the children section or you have to buy your clothes from kiddies shops or you have to look up when talking to your friends. That's when you think again of surgery."

"Surgery?" I asked bewildered.

"I'm kidding," she laughed. 

"I wonder why adult clothes come in extra large sizes but not extra small," she added shrugging.

I couldn't say that I understood her though in a totally different way. I was 5ft 6 inches and I was taller than half the girls in my class. The truth is: one, there weren't many girls in electrical engineering department. Two, half of them were just plainly short or to put it nicely, a little below average.

"Well at least you have friends," I said hoping I didn't sound jealous.

"Don't you?" She asked pinning me with her big eyes. I was almost intimidated. She should never have removed her glasses.

"I do, I guess."

Chuckling, she said, "you sound so unsure."

"All my friends are from school and none of them live in Calabar. So this lockdown has separated us all for so long."

"Doesn't matter, what happened to social media."

"It's not that easy," I said unwilling to elaborate. 

I looked out at the main road. The passing vehicles were making a lot of welcome noise. Grateful for her silence, I walked out and back in again. The school was very small and new. I wondered what inspired the owner to paint the walls green and yellow. The brown wallpaper made it look less like a nursery. My sister was on the seat I left and was discussing intently with the girl whose name I was yet to know. I sat and tried to listen. They were talking about school and studying. I immediately felt jealous. I suppose I was a bit boring with my one line replies. I thought back to the book I was reading at home and tried to imagine what would happen to Frodo. Their discussion made it a bit hard, so I gave up and just listened. My sister left and she turned to me and said, "So fourth year huh?"

My sister had talked about me. I was surprised but then I wasn't.

"Well you do look small for a sophomore." She smiled and asked for my name. She looked better without a smile and I was about to say it when I thought of how unkind it would sound. "Chime."

"I'm Akakaneno. I know it's a mouthful, so call me Neno." 

"School isn't that tough when you're with the right people," I blurted.

"And who exactly are the right people?"

"Friends," I replied. Reluctant to discuss friends, I added hurriedly, "Have you always been on lowcut?"

"No, just cut my hair this lockdown. It was becoming bothersome. Tell me about your school."

Unsure where to begin, I blurted, "my school is ugly." And we laughed and it felt nice. I thought of how lonely I'd been even with everyone at home. How I wanted so much to wake up and have somewhere to go, something to look forward to. How I had applied for jobs. How mom had said no to every interview I was called for and in a last minute attempt to not completely break my heart, suggested I learn how to drive. I thought of how small Neno looked. My small friends never lasted long. I didn't expect this to be any different but perhaps for a while, I'd have something or someone to look forward to seeing.

"Come on, it can't be that bad."

"I'm serious, the front gate, the landscaping, all ugly. It's also very hot, busy, intimidating, frightening, exciting and very real."

"Enough about me," I said. I wasn't comfortable talking about myself. "How did you get here? Surely your parents don't want you out of the way too."

"They couldn't even if they wanted," she mumbled after a while

"I didn't mean that...I was ... it was a bad joke...sorry, bad..."

I gave up at that. I wanted to quietly disappear but I sensed that would be another wrong move so I sat awkwardly, searching the crevices of my mind for something funny. I was usually very good at this, but I didn't quite know how to ease the atmosphere.

"My parents passed away three months ago," she said. "Corona."

Oh was all I could manage. She was the first victim of the Corona virus I was meeting.

"I live with my uncle and his family now. My sisters are there too."

"I'm sorry," I said after a long pause.

"I know. It's just... I mean, nobody wants us to go anywhere or do anything outside the house. They're scared we'll suffer the same fate. But they're allowed to go to work and shop now the lockdown has been eased." 

"I miss them so much it hurts but it hurts less when I'm out doing something than when I'm cooped up in the house all day."

"When this lockdown first started, I was a bit happy honestly. School was becoming quite stressful what with the 8am to 5pm lectures we pull every week. I was glad for an impromptu break. I hoped to study some and actually have fun without assignments and tests breathing down my neck, you know."

"Me too," I said.

"And then, one day my parents didn't come home. They called and said they were quarantined because a guy from work had fainted and they were all taken to be tested. Three days later, they found out they were positive, they died three weeks later." 

I thought of what would happen if I lost any of my parents and I couldn't quite imagine it. I didn't know what to feel for Neno. Pity wasn't my strongest emotion and I couldn't quite summon enough compassion, or at least what I considered enough so I settled for wonder. Yes, wonder for a girl who wanted to live inspite of all that had happened and was still happening. The national fear, though reduced still lived in the hearts of many and here was a girl who had lost, showing bravery that I mostly read in books or saw in movies. I wanted to applaud her, but I thought better of it and said nothing. I wanted to hug her, she was as small as my 12 year old brother. I didn't do that either.

"You're a wonder," I said finally.

"Funny, that's what my parents called me in their last letter to me. 'Mkpouto,' they wrote, 'imama fi etieti.' We love you dearly, our wonder."

Our instructor came back full of apologies. I had forgotten that I was angry with him for not informing us beforehand that he would be late. I took a seat next to the wall, at the desk with the only computer in the room and with another glance at Neno, I forgave my mum who was a doctor in the teaching hospital.