A Daughter’s Revenge Episode 27
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🙎 A Daughter’s Revenge EPISODE TWENTY SEVEN:
PREVIOUSLY ON A DAUGHTER’S REVENGE:
…despite her short time in the institution, Martha had made friends beyond imagination. Even lecturers were included in her circle of friends.
Alhaji Musa has posed the biggest problem for Martha in the school. The professor of English Language has sworn to never allow Martha to drink water and drop the cup in peace.
All he wanted was for Martha to accept his proposal.
What could be his proposal?
You must be wondering, ehn?
THE CONTINUATION:
‘Good afternoon ma. I am here to see the Professor,’ I said to the receptionist in Professor Musa’s office.
‘Good afternoon young lady. Is the Professor expecting you?’, the receptionist asked.
‘Yes. He requested I see him’, I replied very politely.
‘Okay. You can have your seat. The Professor is having a meeting right now’, she said while pointing at seat for me.
What a beauty. I mean the receptionist. She was looking so stunning even though she was in a hijab. Skin yellow and flesh like an early morning palm wine.
I know she must come from Adamawa State. The land of beauty. Because she looked like one of them. The land with the most beautiful women.
The waiting office had a long L shaped couch chair. It was strategically placed a little bit distance from the position partitioned as the receptionist post.
I joined the queue of people waiting to see Professor Alhaji Musa. I greeted them once again before lowering my tired self to the bosom of the chair.
The professor had about six people waiting to see him. I happened to be the seventh person. I was sitting at the extreme end of the chair, very close to the door leading to the Professor’s office.
The weather was very hot and harsh to the body. But thank goodness the office had very active air conditioning. The coldness of the air being vomited out by the air conditioning penetrated deep into my system calming down my nerves to some extent. Because I was very nervous about the call I got from the Professor.
I sat calmly in my position while my problem stared at my face. Amid my contemplation on what could be the reason for the call, I managed to observe the faces of my fellow waiters who happened to be students like me. Their countenances were not pleasant at all. Even the lady very close to me was sweating profusely despite the high intensity of the air conditioning. She had a red face. From my observation, she has been crying.
Professor Musa must have given her ‘CarryOver’ in his course. Because from what I have heard and seen, Professor Musa was so good at giving students ‘CarryOvers’. He wouldn’t mind failing 90% of his students and passing only 10%. You have to pass his course by merite.
‘..you have to work very very hard to pass my course. You can go and ask, I don’t mind failing a student because of ‘just’ one mark. I don’t award free marks. I am very stingy with mark. So you have to earn my marks by merite..’, he always warned us while having class with us.
Professor Musa was popularly known as a very ‘wîçkèd man’ in the school. The worst part of it was that he wasn’t the type of lecturer you could buy with môñèy. He doesn’t tolerate any form of ‘Sorting’, unlike other lecturers who accept ‘Sorting’ — payment either in cash or kind to be awarded unmerited marks after examination or test.
It was obvious that Professor Musa had another intention towards me. He wanted me all for himself. This happened to be a man with two wives already. How could he have even thought I would accept him? How on earth would that be possible?
Normally, I should have blasted him long ago, but in order not to be the architect of my problem in that school, I decided to wear carefulness as a garment. I used wisdom while playing along with him. Not just that, I always prayed to God to save me from him.
Moments later, the meeting was over. We watched as some men walked out from his office in excitement. They were all lecturers. You needed to see how greetings filled the air as we honored them with baskets full of greetings.
Later, the professor sent for me to come in.
As I was in his office, he sent his receptionist to go discharge the rest of the people waiting for him. He asked her to tell them to come back on Monday, that he wouldn’t be able to attend to them today anymore.
I really felt bad for them. Who knows how long they have been waiting. Because they have been there even before me.
‘Have your seat my dear,’ he said while pointing at the seat for me.
‘Thank you sir,’ I said while lowering my buttock on the executive chair.
Professor Musa’s office was very spacious. The design of the office was skillfully and carefully made choices of furniture, accessories, and finishes which promote sophistication and luxury.
‘What do you care to take?’, he asked while facing the office fridge.
‘I am fine. Thank you sir’, I politely rejected the kola.
‘Martha, I am not the dèvîl the students are painting me to look like. I am just a strict and principled person. So don’t get it twisted, okay? I am an easy going person. So feel free around me,’ he preached.
That has been his way. He always tries to preach the gospel of his true self to me. Because he has observed that I don’t feel free around him.
‘If you don’t want students to trample upon you or make a caricature of you as a lecturer, you have to be rugged, strict and principled. Because if the snake fails to show its venom, little kids will use it in tying firewood,’ he stated.
I could not talk. All I could do was nod my head in affirmation like an agama lizard.
‘Martha, what is my fate in respect to my proposal?’, he asked with curiosity.
I opened my mouth, then closed it back. I opened it again, then had to close it back again as nothing seemed coming out. I was totally dumbfounded as I had nothing to say.
‘I am an old man. I am not here for a child’s play. I want to meet your parents. I want to make you my wife,’ he paused and took a long deep breath. ‘So don’t think I am here to devour and disappear. I am not a ragamuffin like the young children of dooms we have nowadays,’ he stated while raising his shoulder up very proudly.
Just then, I felt a strange spirit inside of me. Then I began: ‘But sir, in your infinite wisdom, don’t you think that this isn’t the right time to talk about marriage. I am too young to handle the situation now especially at this moment in time I am still into my educational journey. The situation will pose a big distraction to me. It will be too heavy a burden for me to handle now’, I boldly stated.
I was very careful with my words not to provoke him. Because I don’t want to incur ‘CarryOvers’ upon myself.
If not for the fact that he was my English language lecturer, I would have shown him the other side of me he doesn’t know. He would have seen màdñèss that hot afternoon. How on earth would that old man even think that I would accept becoming his third wife? Na jazz? Even if na jazz, it wouldn’t still work upon my head.
Professor Musa couldn’t help but to stare at me. I know a lot must be going through his mind.
‘The reason I love you is that you are smart and intelligent. My dear, I understand your point. It’s not as if I am going ahead with the marriage plans with immediate effect, I am just making my honest intention known to you for you to have that at the back of your mind,’ he paused. ‘To be honest, I am a very patient man. So I can wait for you till you are done with your education before going ahead with the marriage,’ he concluded.
‘I will really appreciate you if you do that, sir’, I added.
‘Sure, I will’, he assured.
‘Sir, please one more thing’, I pleaded.
‘What’s that’, he asked.
‘No strings attached. No intimacy. Just a student and lecturer’s relationship only. Deal?’, I asked.
‘Deal’, he said amid laughter. ‘I am not a wayward man. I am very religious. So you don’t have to be afraid of that. As I am an advocate of sèx after marriage’, he concluded, still laughing.
‘Thank you’, I said.
‘You are welcome ‘.
‘I will take my leave now. Let me catch up with Friday lectures,’ I said and took my leave.
TO Be Continued
