I watch as mother and father argue over
the matter. My
father moves close to her and pointed a
finger at her
eyes. I feel blood rushing to my head.
Mother tells me that two weeks pay will
be deducted
from father’s salary. I laugh.
“Good for him,” I tell mother. Father sees
the smile on
my face and he was suspicious.
Why should I not be glad that my dad is
going to lose
part of his money? If I am not glad
about it, who then
should be? That man isn’t the one
paying for my school
fee. He has stopped doing that since the
year before.
From the onset of my schooling, he
objected to my
schooling, believing it is an effort in
futility.
John won’t see anything good in having
a handicapped
educated.
“What is the usefulness of a disabled
child?” he would
tell my mother.He began to militate
against my
remaining in school. He wants me out by
all means,
complaining that it is a sheer waste of
money.
I feel useless when John gives me the
reasons why I
shouldn’t remain in school. It was the
first time he
would communicate with me through
letter:
What do you intend doing after school?
Doctor? Nurse?
Lawyer? Engineer? Pilot? You can’t do
any of those or
anything in life without your ears and
mouth, I hope you
know. Rose, I hereby want to advise you
to pull out of
school and master house works because
that is the
only thing you can do without your ears
and mouth.
I have wanted these ever since; only that
mother
insisted I should remain in school. I am
not an
education enthusiast, but I am not bad in
school at all.
Now, father says he won’t pay my fee, so
what is the
essence of arguing with him now?
I know John is only trying to hurt my
feeling, but he was
shocked when I laughed for the first time
and wrote
back to him, “Thank you so much. I have
been looking
forward to that.”
I had only stayed two weeks away from
school when
my mother came with a big shock.
“Rose, you are returning to school?”
“What!” I responded in my sign language.
My oval-
shaped mouth also synched the word. I
have learnt a
lot from lip-reading my teachers in
school, such that I
could figure out some things people are
saying with
their mouths.
“You have won a scholarship!” Mother
said.
“How?” I asked, puzzled. I haven’t applied
for any
scholarship.
“Last year when your father began
threatening to pull
you out of school, I decided to apply for
a scholarship
for you and…”
I held my mother’s hands. I didn’t want
to see more of
her speech. I didn’t buy the idea of
returning to school.
“Please tell the scholarship sponsors to
stop wasting
their monies on disabled like me,” I say.
“No matter
what they spend, I will remain disabled in
life.”
I rushed to my room and held tight to my
pillow. Tears
was soaking the soft pillow in my grip. I
took a little
time gazing at the wall. My thought
began to speak out:
They teach us that God is kind, but here
am I…I can’t
speak. If he is kind, why can’t he make
me like the
other people? I came to the world,
useless. How am I
different from the animals in the jungle?
I learnt that
animals can’t speak too. Little wonder
Bayo keeps
putting leaf inside his mouth every time,
just to show
me that I am a herbivorous animal…
My nape felt a touch. The sensation slid
down and
rested on my left shoulder. I have shut
my eyes long
ago, only feeling the seepage of my tears
on my
cheeks.
It was mother’s touch. If I knew she
would be coming
in, I would have bolted the door. I don’t
want to go to
school.
“You are able, Rose,” mother says.
“A proof or I don’t believe it,” I respond.
“A proof?” Mother said. She was
confused.
“Tell me what a deaf person can do that
a normal
person cannot do. Tell me the job I can
be offered
without my ears and mouth functioning.
After then, I
might reconsider schooling.”
Mother racked her brain. She scratched
her braided hair
for answer such that the bobby pins on
them began to
fall off. Still, no answer to give.
“Tell the sponsor of that scholarship to
transfer it to a
normal person. I am done with
schooling,” I say.
Mother sat on the bedside. I could see
her throat
moving up and down like a jangrover. Her
red lips come
out to lick her tears intermittently.
“For how long, Rose, for how long will I
keep begging
you to stop being inferior? Rose, just…
just…”
I have buried my face in the pillow. I
don’t want to go
to school. Period!
In the end I decided to comply. Ever
since, I’ve been
on scholarship, so John’s salary could
keep on
decreasing, how should I care?
But I still want to know what brings the
disabled at par
with the normal people. If my mum and
my class-
teacher can’t give me the proof that I am
able in three
weeks time, I shall go on personal strike.
To be continued
