My name is Obinna, and my first bicycle never reached me.
I was 9. My uncle in Lagos promised me. He said "Obinna, if you come first in your class, I will buy you bicycle."
I came first. I carried my report card to every door in our yard. "Mama Nkechi, see! I come first!" Even the pure water woman saw it. I was already waiting for my bicycle.
Every evening, Obinna stood by the road waiting for big bus from Lagos. In my head I was hearing the bell - ring-ring! Red bicycle, shining.
Three months passed. No bicycle.
One day, Papa called me inside. "Obinna, your uncle called. He lost his job for Lagos. No money for bicycle now. Sorry, nwa m."
I did not cry outside. I cried inside my chest. I entered my small room and tore the paper where I drew my red bicycle.
That same week, Papa came home with something. It was not a bicycle. It was two old car tyres and one long stick.
He said "Obinna! Your bicycle don come! Na tyre bicycle. Na wetin we dey ride for our time when we small."
He showed me how to roll the tyre with the stick and run after it. At first I vex. "Papa, this is not bicycle!"
But when I started running, pushing that tyre, the stick making "kpor kpor" on the ground, something changed. All the children followed Obinna. We were racing from one end of the street to the other, shouting, laughing.
I laughed so loud that day.
I never got that red bicycle with bell. But I got something better. I got legs that can run.
And my Papa running beside Obinna.
My first bicycle was two old tyres and a stick.
image source AI