It's not real because it's the nightmare I heard about as an eight year old restless little girl, jumping up and down on cement and wooden floors. I was an endless explorer, searching for the next adventure to keep my adrenal glands pumping. My dad would shriek and warn that the septic tank or s we all used to call it back then, the 'suck away' was fragile. I mean the surface, it was not made for jumping on. But the sound it made was Precious.
So I ignore all his wise warnings and just hopped and thumped on it. My mum was harsh and practice and screamed that six years worth of poop was going to kill me instantly with no one bothering to rescue me. That warning did the trick, I hated doing the number 2 and could not even imagine my feet in it, talk more of my entire body. And to top it all up, I have my party so all sort of my friends and their friends had used our toilet. And big mouthed James was here, so I knew the entire school would mock me forever. So I jumped off the cracked surface and watched about six cockroaches run after me. We sprint and run for our lives, I remember my teacher saying they spread leprosy. My birthday was fun and the backyard was now out of bounds.
Why on earth am I back at this crazy moment in my life? Why did I not remember me swinging my skinny arms upside down on a large tree. As I tried to ignore the the angry soldier ants, biting me and trying to get me out of thier way.
One massive bite sent me falling down the low branch of the tree I was showing off to my friends from. And as I anticipate the impact and wounds from my fall, I also love as my classmates cheer and scream with excitement at the bold fearless child I am.
The morning starts with me crashing on the floor, awkwardly on my back. As if I have actually fallen off a tree. And then the bubbly sun shines and then rumbles like my aching throbbing wrist.
I slept off reading this scary article in the news about the boy falling into a sewer, not just any but an American one. The sheer network of their sewers and the horrible thought of drowning in such filth scared me. It was a relief to read that he survived and also more relief on my childhood nightmare. But that's a different time, back then as a child. Accidents like that meant instant death and I am glad he survived but can more be done to quell children's curious instincts? I doubt that.
The drive to work is quiet and I do miss my driver, such a gentle giant. I drive into my office and look up and notice Nnoye pacing up and down. Am I surprised, no.
''He has filled for sole custody of my baby and has accused me of child neglect'
Nnoye was making a scene and I park quickly to get her away from the traffic building with people bring out phones to record us.
I drag her into my office and give the security my car keys. Hiding my lips from prying eyes and hiding us from the traffic behind us.
'Nnoye, you need to calm down'
'My child..'
She stopped moving and I push her into my office.
'I don't care who is watching, you have to tell that selfish Daniel Ojora that he can't separate a mother from her child'
Safely inside my private office I crash on the couch and drag the distraught mum to sit beside me.
'Nnoye....'
'I truly entered the Lion's den with this traitor'
She was shouting now and I let her.
This is not going to end well, as usual. I can feel it.
**"ADE'S JOURNAL" Season 3 Episode 15**
*"ADE'S JOURNAL", 15, COPYRIGHT 2018*
**BUSOLA ELEGBEDE, COPYRIGHT 2018**
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