At  The PTA Meeting

I do recollect quite well an incident that occurred about ten years ago—when I was still in the junior secondary school. Mama had been invited to attend a Parents Teacher Association meeting. She was broke to the extent that she could barely afford to pay for transportation to my school. Determined not to miss the meeting, she borrowed money from our neighbor who had been a former executive but who, through adverse circumstances, had become déclassé to the point of working as a night watchman.

 Mama arrived earlier than most of the other parents—as has always been her wont to be on time to any occasion. She took a front seat and waited long enough for the meeting to commence. As soon as the headmistress, Mrs. Jemimah Ashiagbor, entered the conference hall that had been filled to capacity, she noticed Mama. She’d never seen her before. But she knew me.

“Are you Miss Lateefa?”

“Yes madam.”

“So you are Ayoma’s mother?”

“Yes. Is there any problem?”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Thank you.”

“Ayoma is a young scholar par-excellence. He’s doing very well in school.”

“It’s nice to hear that. Thank you, madam.”

 To be continued…