GIZANIA

“Uncle you have to understand my point. Denying me the chance to study what I want won’t make you less of a guardian. I know you love me and I know you want me make you proud of me always, father, you will never have the key to my happiness. I love modeling  and I love fashion and designs and this is what I’m destined to do. Allow me to go to school and do what I love,” Gazania says with tears in her eyes. She was beseeching her uncle, impersonates as her second creator.

Apollo, not the one in the bible, though; and of course, if him and Priscilla were the ones, they would have listened to her like he did in the bible when them (both bachelors were listening to a group of people singing and praising God’s name. To the work Paul was obligated when Chris left this desolate world), he would be able to give her a chance.

“This discussion is over. If you want to go to school, then you have to go and study midwifery, but if you think you have your savings to make you study that stupid fashion thing then I have no money on me to spend on a young girl at your age yearning to be trained to walk naked in front of the world!” he growls.

That was that. In Africa, kids grow up serving the interest of their parents until they become parents of their own and the chain of confusion continues.

She walked away knowing that there was no hope left in her. When the earthly father says no, she believes even the heavenly puts a stamped on it. And when the father says no, there will never be tomorrow; only the rain that comes near to quench your heart. One day, she was from the public library; a place where she only reads novels to pass time – play from Shakespeare, where she finds massive solace: so she saw a poster. The pictures were beautiful and she just imagines herself being among those girls, corrupting most part of the poster – her eyelashes and the lipsticks being work on by the best makeup artists in the country and walking on the runway majestically. “One day I will make it there. One fine day,” and , she turns back to check on the date. “When is the date?” she asked herself and then walked back to the poster. “15/05/201…” the due date for auditions was stale but the D-Day for the event was still two weeks ahead. Of which, if freedom was earn through petty things like tears, she would have filled two barrels with tears before she is grants her damn right.

Mr. Apollo, though Gazania had reluctantly agrees to study midwifery, he was determines that she would go and study midwifery with no much ado; she will pass with flying colors. Her dead father will be proud of her, her fled away mother, one when they  finally meet, too, will be proud of her. “Why are you forcing me to study Midwifery yet Susan and Ladu, who by the way got less points than I do are not taking the same course?” she asked him one time.

Mr. Apollo swallowed the staunch of shame and opts to end the discussion. Most of the family meetings have always come to and end or left pending if it’s bisects him and his own kids. “You seem not to understands.” he would murmurs everyday when he is stuck to give an excuse.

“Make me understand from today because the logic you’re using is never making sense to me and even to my dead father. I know I owe you a lot in life but choosing my own paths has nothing to do with you,” she stormed out in the meeting. Mr. Apollo remained cold like a tomb. Later that evening, he went to her room and told her to make the list for basic things she might need when she finally moves to the hostel.

She remained numbed. Her eyes reddening every hour like the setting sun. She had been crying the whole of that night and even her duvet was socked in tears as the result of disappointment in her uncle. Mr. Apollo remained standing there until his egos told him to excuse the young and miserable woman.

At noon, she took a cold bathe and then went to the dinning table and then ate her lunch in silence. Women are many but mothers are few. Mrs. Apollo was among those few women who accommodate other kids and treats them like her own.

“My daughter, do not blame me for all the mess that are happening around you. Remember I have stood with you through thick and thin. I will never stop it now because I will continue supporting you. You don’t have any other mother but me.” And it was true. Her mother ran away when she was six years and no one has ever known her whereabouts. Maybe scrolling majestically in beds on the other side of the city to impress rich and unhappy men who smuggles gold in the neighboring countries, or maybe she remarried again to an average man who accommodated her solely without any other extra mouth whom his DNA doesn’t reigns in the blood.

She fled away because she was never in good terms with anyone. She is the kind of a woman who will demands everything from a man except oxygen. And the culture suggest inheritance, she was never the type you can add into your family because every expensive perfume, every new dress, everything trendy dress will always go missing in every household if she does have a dime.

“You can go to the university and change your course. Pancreas Atemi, in the book, ‘THE GIRL WAS MINE’, for example did the same thing. It happened in all the universities. It happens in any corner of the planet. You can still go and do the same thing,” she advised.

“Hope never dies,” she muttered. She got the idea. And as she was about to ask her farther, Mr. Apollo walked in from the door. He was a Goliath type of a man: tall, dark, body-build and coffee-like eyes. He will look at you and the discussion will ends abruptly. Mrs. Apollo snail to the kitchen as Gazania dresses on her sad mood. Mrs. Apollo peeped through the kitchen and then saw her husband climbing up the stairs.

She called Gazania and Susan who were busy watching Nickelodeon series.

“We have visitors today. Kindly take this list and the money on the table. Go and buy me few things from the supermarket. You will find everything written in there. And be quick.” She demands.

They were pushing the trolley when she saw a familiar face. She tried to scan her mind through and then she came to a stop. She has seen the face from the wall on a poster that she came across two days ago. She was nervous. How is she going to start it? What if she behaves like the other celebrities she has read in the newspapers and blogs that always show goose bumps? By the way, the only famous person that they’ve all known in their entire family is their father because no community meeting that he misses or ends without talking.

Finally, she gathered her courage and then approached her.

“Hey,” she extended her hand.

“Hey, how are you?” she said with a broad smile on her face. She looks jovial and full of life. You would think maybe things like menstruation, paying rent or failing university exams don’t pains her or don’t even make her cry when they soars.

“My name is Gazania I know you could be wondering why a stranger like me surprises you with a handshake,” she says.

“No! It’s okay. It’s fine with me, sweet Gazania.” She said.

They talked at length and then she gave her card to Gazania and encourages her to join them for the training.

Nuella, her name, has been in the limelight: on the covers of magazines and has features almost a million times in blogs and social sites before she decided to establish her own modeling agency. Though it took her about six years before she came up with the idea.

Back to the house, there were a great number of people sited in the living room. Mrs. Apollo had no idea that it would be too soon that the visitors would come in. Now she has been subjected to kitchen marathon. The men were somewhat different people that she has ever seen before. Apart from one man, whom she must have met in one those rare occasions when he had come to consult her husband on some serious matters that men always called “business”.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier that your so called visitors were coming?” she roared.

“These are not the visitors I was expecting, darling. These are people with different mission and they told me that they could not wait for another weekend.”

And then they start talking.

“We have seen a ripe mango in your yard and we thought we couldn’t wait to make another person come and harvest it,” the wisdom flows from the man.

“We would be pleased if you tell us how much each jewelry is valued in your store so that we could start the bidding.”

This is the bid of what Gazania and Sarah have heard from the visitors as they were entering.

“That niece of yours is a gold and we want to be the first extractors to mine that gold.” And then he paused as if he was expecting an objection.

“In short, this young man,” he pointed at him with a walking stick, “is a bachelor and he is the one interested in her.” He finally made it clear.

Mr. Apollo and his kinsmen were listening to them attentively.

Later that evening, Gazania was summoned and the news was made official to her. “So this young man came to ask me for your hand in marriage. And since I’m the only father around here, I thought it was wise to make the news clear to you.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Nothing. I just promised that I will get back to them in a matter of week.”

“And what do you think now since it’s your marriage issue and not mine anymore?”

“You want me to reject his riches? Look, I have sacrificed my life for all of you,” he exclaims.

“Do you need the payback by turning my marriage into yours?”

“Young lady, will you shut up and stop interrogating me.” He stood up, engulfed in anger. “This is my house and no one question my plans. End of this discussion!” he growled.

She got stuck: a dream that’s now busy melting on the slate of rogue uncle’s withered tongue, and the career lust that’s irritating her wit everyday. She tried her Mrs. Apollo but who is she and what will she do when she is just nothing but only a receiving donor and far away from the main switch. Her uncle has two hundred cows bride pride offer, five first classy locomotive machines and possibility to aerial his melting business above sea level.

Six months later while on campus, she opted to change her course and applied for something that her heart has always beats: fashion and designs was and had always been one of those things that turns on the engine in her heart to press on and go extra miles. When Nuella, the super model who had always been sharing the platforms together with the international competitors pushed her to go harder, she was pleased and she start seeing things in different angels.

First, she walked out of the shaky arranged marriage that her uncle was alluring her in. And even though the funds to facilitate her education were frozen and the short hands money that she had always receive were cut short, she didn’t give a hoot; not even a little because it’s something obvious and she was expecting it, although. She started washing clothes and doing assignments to sustain her in the hostel whilst the special kids of Sir Apollo were busy grinding in their posh car.

One afternoon, Mr. Apollo approached her: to choose the affluent life he is offering her as she marries the tycoon or the school fees will follow the suit, “do what you like with your money. I did not task you in the first place to raise me. So if you think making quotation about my life and handle me like a second class member in your family is the best idea, then I’m sorry,” she says and then picks her purse to go to class. Apollo was puzzle. He finally agrees that that was the reason in the first place why he had always warns his children to follow his lead because he never want them to grow wild like Gazania. School fees were cut but she never regretted a thing. She continues washing clothes and doing assignments to maintain herself.

A triumph in a day is better than the hundred years in solitude. Gazania finally got hooked up with the scholarship, which she grabbed with both hands and made good used of it. On the other hand, Nuella was also another shoulder that she always leans on. She was always there to link her in most of her actives and network her with modeling agencies outside the country.

On her final year of studies, she was lucky to sign up with a modeling agency in Italy. When she and Nuella received the news, they both shed tears of joy. She knew it; she knew that one day, her time will finally come to prove the doubting Thomases wrong.

Whilst the news of her signature were celebrated, Mr. Apollo was also hit by another tragedy: his daughter and son turned to colorless demons. The daughter had sustain unwanted pregnancy which she wanted to terminated but resulted into an epitomic pregnancy, ending up into puncturing one of the tubes whilst the only her of his kingdom turned to homosexual.

It was during lunch break and, Gazania had just entered to the srestaurant when the headline of the popular weekly gazette caught her attention. “EX Minister’s son sentence up to six years in jail.” She scanned through her mind and then she remembers. It was the same gentleman, who, three years ago colluded with her uncle to forcefully marry her. She flashed back through the things that she went through trying to escape the hooks of his proposal and then she laugh like a mad woman in the restaurant.

“Waiter, a glass of red wine for me please,” she looked at the headline once again and then gave it one last long sighs before she to the next page

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