Vickie Photographic
Just A Phone Call
Would being poor be a yardstick for the sons and daughters of the poor remaining poor forever? How can I be able to scale through this situation after being battered and brutal in thoughts and spirit? These have been the questions I kept on asking myself after receiving a series of embarrassment from haters.
Invariably, my dressing has been killing styles of the old age folks. To buy clothes is none of my agenda as the source of income was infinitesimal. The only nicely used cloth I had was given to me by my friend, Eddy. He has never for once let me down or laugh at me for any reason.
When we had our graduation anniversary, I wore a cloth my dad once used and it was his favorite. It was bogus at the bottom funnel-like type. This was my dad's best outfit and he had hidden it just for outing sake. It was brought out for me to use for my graduation anniversary as I'm almost the same size as my dad except for the waist.
My world kept relegating me just because of the kind of family I came from. Sometimes, I look at myself as someone whose future would never elope from where it is and would remain in the realm of abject poverty forever.
It was early in the morning on graduation day. Everyone had begun to dress in their respective nice outfits. Seeing them through my window made my mood sad and with my face swollen and filled up with running water straight down my body. My mum noticed me and rushed just to console my feelings. "It shall be well", She said. I swallowed her words without saying a word, but deep down in me I said, "for so many years" or should I say "since I was born", my dad has been saying "it shall be well" and yet he is still stuck in the same condition "poverty".
I went straight inside my squared hole, looked straight to my bed and received yet another phase of slap of tears on my face after sighting the old clothes consisting of old school funnel-like jumped trousers and an old tight packet shirt. It was just like a dream which I must not wait a bit before waking up. My mates were laughing at me after seeing my dressing, but I never gave up. My friend was not happy with my dressing, but told me to be patient.
Don't worry friend, I will make things ok with you when the time comes, Eddy said. He gave me courage that pushed me to a realm of hope.
Two days after graduation, I went to Eddy's house to pay him a visit but found their house locked. I asked and was told they have relocated to another city very far from ours. Although, I just guess we might meet again as I never cared to collect his phone number since I was not having one.
Now struggling and hustling starts as we are done with schooling. I never had the intention of going to the higher institution as there was no way my parents would fund it.
I did clear some pieces of land and got myself a cheap phone with lesser RAM and ROM. Facebook was not strange to me as I have once used my friend's phone to see how it works. I registered with my name and filled in my phone number in my Facebook profile. I set up my profile and started adding friends. I searched for Kuti Eddy but could not see anyone bearing that name. This kept baffling me and wondered if he was not on Facebook or I was the one making the mistake of not inserting the name properly. What on earth would have been the problem here? I asked myself in anger.
It's 7 years now and yet no change of situation. Poverty has gone beyond being poverty to another form. This means it has accelerated to the next level of poverty.
I was in my house eating soaked cassava flakes with some cracked palm nuts when I heard my phone ringing. Who would have this number? I asked myself since I have no one to talk to except those who I'm working for. I answered the call "hello". The caller was silent at one point but after a few seconds, he answered "hello". How are you my friend? The caller asked. I was still wondering who would call me his friend when I had no one to call my friend since the only friend I had relocated.
He said,
I'm Eddy, you friend.
I was shocked to have received his call. How did you manage to get my number? I asked.
He said,
I got it from Facebook after searching for your name.
I searched for your name on Facebook but could not get it. Are you not still on Facebook? I asked
He responded,
I'm, but I customized my name as Eddie instead of Eddy. Anyways, I would like you to come to Lagos to help me with my company.
I shifted my seat just like someone who had won a lottery.
Infact, I will send you some money for transportation, he said.
Without wasting time, I got ready and off I went.
Within four months of working, my account was smiling. I lifted my family from grass to grace.