Over forty years ago my Father stood shielding his eyes from the harsh sun, in his freshly starched Khaki school uniform and sang with the rest of school mates as the Union Jack was lowered and the new flag for Nigeria – the Green, White and Green emblem of our independence was raised.
Today. October 1st. Home is now London, and the day passes without mention, usually buried in between work deadlines, the school run and my weekly trip to the supermarket. Then I might hear about some Independence Day party for Nigerian émigrés.
I am in Nigeria on a visit to see my Father who has not been too well.
He believed in his country. I was ambivalent. I couldn’t help noticing the tall gleaming skyscrapers and expensive cars. I also noticed that my younger brother Sola was getting bored at home because the lecturers at his university had been on strike for four months, that there were regular power cuts and that we still had to buy water to drink.
I felt the car slow and heard the driver curse and as I looked ahead at a couple of Policemen next to three crudely assembled large barrels, helpfully arranged in the middle of the road. The traffic was at a standstill.
“ Madam , if you start to blow grammar these people go increase the money they wan take.”
“ Don’t tell me these people are still taking bribes in open daylight.”
The driver shook his head again. “ They take money for night as well. Maybe if Government paid dem proper money ……” he shrugged, “ Dat’s life – man must chop.”
We drew up to the policeman who nodded at us. The younger one leered at me as the more mature of the bunch demanded our ‘Patikulars’; the drivers licence, which was examined with painstaking dedication and returned with a salute.
“You may go Sah. Your particulars are in order.”
.
Uncle John smirked and drove off. “ Wonderment! Fifty Naira to avoid wahala!”
I could feel my clothes sticking to me despite the air conditioner.
“Its not easy being a Nigerian.” I sighed.
The driver laughed. “ Madam! You are no longer a Nigerian. Nigerians have no choice but to stay here and make this country work for them. Any body who can go abroad takes on a new nationality. Those of us wey get green passport – we too have a God. Things must to change one day.”
We slowed again and I looked out of the window and caught the eyes of a little girl selling oranges at the kerb. She wore a tattered Chelsea United T-shirt over a jeans skirt and her naked feet were black with grime. On her lap she balanced a blue Oxford exercise book and a pencil.
We smiled at each other and I saw the hope in her eyes. One day she would be me.
Me.. Well, I just did not know who I wanted to be anymore.
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inspire @inspire
Writes short stories, poetry and is currently writing a novel.Go to inspire's profile, and read more of his/her posts.
I love the simplicity…and hope this has a sequel. Too many loose ends.
Nice.
what loose ends @Seun? This is a flash fiction, it’s complete!
Nice work, Ola.
interesting story
love it.
Great piece. I like how you highlighted in an engaging way, the many problems Nigeria still faces after 50 years of independence.
http://lookingglassofanimmigrant.blogspot.com/
I’m beginning to think stories turn out well when they are written simply but beautifully, as was done here.
Well done!!!
Beutiful!
…..though i agree with seun, so many loose ends…
Story to beat (for me-oh).
I got the same comment… I guess that’s the thing with flash fiction; it leaves some feeling like there is more to explore. Writing for this contest was an interesting challenge, though… I think you rose to it very well. I liked how you addressed the cliche of “What is wrong with Nigeria” through this perspective. Well done.
Who wouldn’t love this? It’s simple, interesting & beautiful. Thumbs up!
Yep. Love the simplicity. nice one!
Well, you’ve got all the raves already but I reckon one more wouldn’t burst your bubble.
Really nice piece; you manage to tell a whole lot. That’s really something.
I do think that your tenses were mixed up too often and am not so sure about the ‘open daylight’ bit of this: “ Don’t tell me these people are still taking bribes in open daylight.”
the first three paragraphs blew me away…great start!
The jump from paragraph 4 to 5 is abrupt…too abrupt. were you striving for some effect?
Who is Uncle John??!!! He jumped out of the narrative, made one statement and disappeared! Plus, fifty naira? where did that come from? i thot the cop said they could go.
great ending. The last line is particularly poignant. i’m not sure though, but perhaps earlier in the narrative, some internal conflict could have been highlighted to warrant this ending.
you made it seem like i am to expect more.
i shadow seun and dr tansi
i like the creativity any way
nice
“One day she would be me.” Wow! I wish it had ended at that inspirational line. Yes, one day poor Nigeria would be truly rich, like “Madam.” *winks* What a great flash fiction!