COULD THERE BE SPECIFIC BLESSINGS FOR EVERYONE?

I was comfortably watching the Mathematics guru fire away, he handled questions with ease. And, trust me, those equations weren’t Nigerian but Korean. Cowbell Mathematics Competition. I didn’t hear Mama walk into the room, I knew what would follow so I wanted to be smart and change the programme but I wasn’t fast enough.
She saw me dive for the remote control and said, “Nna, leave this station. Let’s watch another person’s son do what my blockhead son can’t do.”

Something started eating at my stomach, I couldn’t say what it was. Mama sat beside me, I moved quietly to the only wooden chair in the room and sat staring at pictures in the TV.

Mama snorted and focused on the TV with a smile I’m sure isn’t even real. I glanced at the space I just vacated and saw my wounded ego still sitting there, unshaken.

Mama wasn’t done.
“Chei. This big boy is making his parents proud wherever they are. Even those ones in SPEAK.”

I knew it was SPAK not SPEAK, but I knew better than to correct her.

“My own son only knows how to watch others answer big questions on TV and to press phone. Others are winning scholarships and houses. My own son is here. God! Why is my own different?”
Mama’s voice was getting cracky.

Great! Ask God, I’ve been asking him that since I was old enough to know what injustice was. Life wasn’t fair.

Hot tears burned in my eyes, I turned to look at her, “Look at him!” Mama screamed at me.

She either doesn’t want to see my tears, or she doesn’t want me to see hers.
I love Mama, I love her too much to disobey her.

I look at the boy answering questions before they’ve even asked, and more than anything, I wish he’ll stop. I wish he’ll see me through the lens of the camera and come to me. I wish he’ll shake my hands and hug me.

My phone lying close to the TV bugged and I think about my life online. I think about Facebook. I think about how perfect everyone there is, and how they think I’m perfect.
They don’t know I’m here watching my old mother cry because I can’t solve mathematics like people on TV.
They don’t know Mama doesn’t have money for fees. They know each other and help each other there. They seem to be have each other. And, I have myself and maybe Mama. Everyday I see stories of scholarships and awards, but I can’t even ask them how they do it. How would they even see me? Whatever. Let the popular be friends with the popular.

I look at the boy on TV. Everyone is taking pictures of him and hugging him. Another person won. Another person that’s not me got a scholarship. I couldn’t look at Mama. I can see the mother of the boy who got the scholarship. She wasn’t even crying. She should cry to show she’s happy atleast. The boy is chubby, rich and talks like someone who attends a British school in Nigeria. His mother looks rich too. How would I explain to Mama that only the rich gets to that point? She doesn’t understand.
The family of the winner leads the company to their house to ‘meet the family.’ They live in a mansion, why won’t they win? And if I win, where would I bring the company to? I’m sure they’re quite tush to even step into our street.
Even those ones in SPAK. The kids of wealthy families.

“Chima, your father wants the best for you, yet he left without leaving a thing.”

I knew it! Mama doesn’t know what transfer of aggression is, yet she does it every single time. She gets angry whenever she thinks of Papa. I’ve been going through all these for years. Despite all these, I love Mama.

Mama wants me to be stable, but I’m too scared to even ask for procedures. Everyone is fighting for his head. They don’t care about a boy who doesn’t have a Father.

Mama went into the house and returned minutes later, “Nna, your food is in the kitchen.”
That was her way of saying she was sorry. What baffles me is why she was sorry.

Hi, I don’t believe anyone is beyond God. I don’t believe that only specific persons has the right to excel academically, spiritually and mentally.
God breaks protocols. You should believe he breaks protocols first.
If anyone could be good with books, you could too.
If anyone could have God, you could have Him too, as deep as you want to go. He’s there all the way.
If anyone is a guru and knows answers to questions before they’re been asked, you could too.
You have everything! You just don’t know what you have, nor do you know how to exercise what you have. You still believe some things are for specific persons. You still beg, crawl, scream, tear at your hair, for something you should request for with authority. What you seek has already been paid for, waiting for you.
Find God.
Other things will fall in place.

God loves you.

I love you.

Joy C. Uchenaya

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