AT A TIME

There's a high mountain before me

So high it seemed

Everest's just a joke

Standing there at its foot

There's fear, there's doubt

But I'll start this journey

And finish it

One inch, one feet

At a time

By Ik Inyang.

Ephraim Johnson Jr returned from school with a terrible feeling. There was hardly anyone at Royal College who did not know how much of a block head he was. It was an ingrained habit to perform poorly in school and the thousand and One lashings by his father, Ette Ephraim did not change his fate. 1st from the back, Coconut head, Otondo and the others were his surnames.

One day out of frustration he punched Odudu (a  short boy with a block head just like him) for calling him "Big Fool" . It was painful but when the boy reinforced it (peppered it) with Ibibio, "Ekamba Nton". It was like a thousand swords piercing his soul. Anger flooded his veins and manifested as a punch to the poor boy's skull. That was five years ago and they are pretty good friends now, although Odudu will have to live the rest of his life with a depressed forehead; two mountains like horns on each side and a valley in between.

He was able to face short boys. But his father was the one person he never stood up to. It must have been his huge stature or his forbidding, daunting growl that turned the bravest of me to wimpering rabbits. Dad was like the a raging gorilla when he got angry, the kind that punched his chest with gigantic hands and gnarled scary canines at you while puffing steam from his snouts. 

"Daddy, will kill me" he thought.

If there was anyone to save him, it was his Mum. There is a special thing about Mothers. They hold a certain power beneath all the meekness and subtlety. She only had to rub Daddy's grey head or give him the silent treatment if it was necessary. She knew the tricks of the trade; the art of winning without fighting. The only thing was that most times she was silent when it came to his thrashing especially on academic matters. She only intervened when it got pretty far, when his buttocks were about swelling or the yelps were too much for her to bear. She (maybe even more) than Dad wanted a Son that knew book at least, so she would not have to hide her face or deafen her ears when Mama Okon or Mama Mbosowo talked about their brilliant sons. 

He had reached home with a million thoughts in his head. He thought of what to do to make his parents feel remorse for him.Probably, the punishment would be less. So, he drew fake tears from his unsorrowful tear ducts.

" Ahm Hmm.." he began.

Mama Ephraim was at the veranda eating groundnuts as Mmati, the housemaid was doing pedicure.

"You have failed again." she said.

..Ahm Hmm" he bawled. 

She grabbed the report card from him and gazed at it intently. She sighed and said:

"Junior, I don't understand why you do not perform well in school. God knows I have tried. Pastor Gideon annointed you the other day and he assured me things will change but...Anyway, I see an improvement. Last time it was an "F" across board except in Computer Science and Civic Education. E in Maths, D in English..well You're improving."

He smiled with those kind words from his Mum. But his Father had not seen his face. The Master judge had not rendered the final verdict.

It was as if his Mum read his thoughts.She took him by the hand and went inside to meet his father.

It will be okay, Ephraim. He will not touch you today she said.

Ette Ephraim sat in his private study reading newspapers. He heard footsteps approaching his "oracle".He lowered his gaze wondering who would dare disturb him.

"Ette, your son has done better this time," she said." See."

Ephraim Jr stood close to his Mother, almost clinging to her like a wimpering weasel. His stare alone made him shiver a bit.

"Bloody Hell. This is a bad result. Goodness Me, I have such a Himalayan blunder of a Son. Woman, this boy is not my child. After all the lessons I gave him, he still comes back with an E in Maths, more than 3 Fs and a D in English. A D!!!! Junior! 10 strokes of the Cane. Your punishment for this poor performance.

"You will not touch him." Mama said

"What?" Woman, are you tal.."

"I said you will not touch my son. Enough is Enough"

"You dare defy me. Such Insolence! Such rambunctious display of impudence. A total disregard of my paterfamilial status. I'll upgrade this to a Guerdon for two."

"Err...See, Ette. I don't care what English you are talking now. All I know is you will not touch any of us. Or you think I do not know?"

"What do you mean?"

"I have always wondered what the root of this problem was."

"She moved swiftly to an old cupboard and ransacked a few documents to pull out one."

Ette stood at his corner nonplussed, as Junior watched his gorilla of a father turn into a weasel like him.

"Here.....You were much worse. A pot calling kettle black. That's what you are. Don't you dare touch my son again o." she said storming out of the room. 

Junior was astonished by all that transpired. Those five minutes were the best moments of his life. To watch his father silenced and drained of chutzpah, to watch his Mother stand up so courageously for him. To think that he would go scot free for the first time. Within those true and fake tears, a smile formed on his face with the parting of his lips and a stretch of laugh lines.