EMMA

Chapter One

Emma hissed as she struck her foot against a stone while treading the walkway that led to the  administrative building. It was some minutes past ten, the English teacher had just left her class and she was on her way to the counselor's office. She knew she was in for another lengthy morality talk that Tuesday  morning.
Catching sight of the building that harbored the entire administrative body of the school, her nervousness grew and she so wished she didn't come to school today.

Olives High School was one of the best schools in the city of Lagos, with experienced and qualified teachers. The affordable fees was another advantage, thus the population of students in the school was  dominated by children of the average Nigerian parents/guardians. The school was made up of four two-storey buildings; the Junior class block, the Senior class block, the Administrative block respectively, thus, the three main buildings formed the borders of a quadrangle facing the school gate, with a big field at the center and stairs adjoining all the buildings, while the fourth building that housed the library et al, was behind the admin block.

Emma's class was directly opposite the administrative building, and she could have just crossed over the field, but she preferred plying the path behind the junior block which was to the left, adjoining the two  buildings, so no one would see where she was headed to.

'Come in', a soft middle-aged woman's voice answered from within as Emma knocked on the mahogany door of the counselor's office.

'You sent for me ma?', Emma mumbled nervously, still holding the door handle with the door half open.

'Shut the door and come in, Emmanuella Williams', the woman instructed, taking off her pair of glasses and looking sternly at Emma. Mrs Benson was a very fair complexioned woman in her early forties, though she looked much younger for her age. Emma had always envied her poise, but despised the adverse relationship that was between them, which really contradicts the woman's profession, at least that was the way Emma saw it. For as long as she had been getting in trouble in the school, and had been ending up in Mrs Benson's office, the woman had never really counselled her. Except for her first day at school when they first met, all the other counseling sessions were more of tongue-lashing and dressing-down sessions to Emma.

'I take it you got had a misunderstanding with your Biology teacher yesterday, he came here to report you this morning.'

'Ma'am I....'

'I've told you times without number to always take off your spectacles and look me in the eye when I'm talking to you', Mrs Benson interrupted.

'Sorry ma, but you know I can't see well without them', Emma lamented, taking off the silver-framed spectacles.

'Did you say something?', Mrs Benson queried.

'No, nothing ma'.

'Good, now sit down'.

Emma nervously took  her seat in the chair opposite the counselor. This woman just basically scares the living daylights out of her.

'Now, 'why were you sleeping in  Biology class yesterday?' Mrs Benson inquired, rising from her seat and bending over with her chin cradled in her her palms and elbows on the table for support.

'Ma, I hate Biology, or perhaps I dislike the way Mr Aina teaches the subject'.

'Oh really?', Mrs Benson sighed, feigning surprise. It wasn't the first time Emma would be declaring her hatred for a science subject anyway.

'Yes ma', She continued. 'He practically dictates the textbook to us. A good teacher doesn't dictate but narrates.'

'And you also had the audacity to tell him that?'

'No ma, I only made him realize we can't understand the lesson that way'.

'What?!', Mrs Benson exclaimed. 'This is the umpteenth time Emma, and any  more insolence from you, then you wont be facing me, it will be the school principal'.

At the mention of the principal, Emma's eyes widened and she began to plead. 'Please ma, It won't happen again, I promise, Please don't report me to Mrs Ajayi, I beg of you!'.

'If I was given one naira every time you made such promises, Emma, I'd be the richest person in Nigeria by now', Mrs Benson said as she sank back into her seat. 'And I know your problem; you are way too wise for your age. What  you really need is reprimanding and not counseling!'.

Emma bowed her head remorsefully. 'I'm sorry ma'.

'You had better be! I'm sure you take advantage of the fact that we don't punish you due to our consideration of your health condition, but suffering from sickle-cell anemia doesn't make you...'

'I dont suffer anything!' Emma protested, banging her fist on the table. 'I don't mean to be rude, but please ma, don't say that to me again!'. With this, she stormed out of the office, tears welled up in her eyes.

Mrs Benson was furious, but at the same time, felt sorry for what she said. She shouldn't have gone there. Having known Emma for five years now, she admitted she hasn't been the counselor she is supposed to be, she should understand the girl well enough by now. And then, it is a taboo in her profession to mock her clients of their weaknesses, let alone health conditions.

She shook her head and sighed as she recalled her first encounter with the girl. It was her first day at the school. Only nine years old then, Emma possessed so much intelligence for a child of her age. That Monday morning, her Maths teacher had dragged Emma into the counselor's office.

'Now I don't know what to do with this one!', Mrs Akintayo had raved, 'Can you imagine the brat correcting me in class?!'

Mrs Benson was at a loss for words with mouth agape. She took a thorough look at Emma and frowned, trying to conceal the surprise she felt within. It was hard to imagine the kind of boldness the little girl could possess to correct her teacher.

'What is your name?' Mrs Benson inquired.

'Emma, Emmanuella Williams', she answered softly, looking through her silver-framed eyeglasses.

'Always take that off when addressing an elderly person Emma', the counselor instructed, pointing at the pair of glasses.

'Emma inclined her head and took it off, 'But you should know I cant see well without them ma'.

'Did you say something? Mrs Benson asked with a curious look.

'No ma', Emma answered quickly, peeking at the Maths teacher who fumed angrily where she sat.

Mrs Benson moved closer to Emma where she stood and stooped in front of her so as to level their heights.

'How old are you?'

'I'm nine years old ma.'

'Do you know Mrs Akintayo is old enough to be your mother?'

Emma inclined her head.

'Then why were you rude to her?'

'I wasn't rude ma', Emma replied innocently. 'I only told her she was supposed to introduce herself before the lesson. How could we learn when we don't even know her name?'

Mrs Benson straightened. In the fifteen years of her counseling career, she had never come across such boldness and intelligence in any student of her age range. It often came from students in the senior classes.

Truth be told, the girl was right, but she knew she shouldn't let her realize that, not in the presence of her teacher.

'But you could have done that politely Emma, or asked for her name after the lesson'.

'My class-teacher in primary school told us her name the first day she came to class before starting the lesson, and she even reminded us everyday'.

'Did you hear that? That was the same thing she said to me in class!', Mrs Akintayo ranted exasperatedly. And then she has the guts to repeat it?! Does she mean to say I'm inexperienced? I'm taking her to the principal right away!'

       'Mrs Akintayo please take it easy, this is the child's first day at high school and....'
'No, dont bother, I will handle this myself!'

From there, the Maths teacher had taken Emma to the Principal's office that morning. There, she was reprimanded and asked to kneel in front of the office for thirty minutes. She hadn't been on her knees for five minutes when she slumped and lay unconscious on the ground. Pandemonium broke out as those who witnessed the incident rushed to the scene, both students had teachers, including the counselor, who had heard the noise from her office.

When efforts to revive Emma proved abortive, they resorted to taking her to the hospital, as even the sick bay was not an option. The principal grabbed her car keys and instructed two senior students to carry her into the car, while Mrs Akintayo followed suit, beads of perspiration cascading down her face. 'Never in her life would she punish any student again!', she swore secretly.

At the hospital, Emma was confirmed to be suffering from sickle cell anemia. 'She has too few red blood cells', The doctor had explained, 'thus resulting in constant fatigue and illness, especially when she is stressed. Mrs Ajayi, I'm sure you know what that implies?'

The principal inclined her head. 'I never knew she has such health problems. We will see to it that she is never punished that way again. There are several other ways to punish her', she concluded as she turned to Mrs Akintayo who inclined her head in understanding.

And she was right. Since then, any mischief made by Emma either got her sent out of class or earned her a suspension letter, no one dared to punish her otherwise. Now in S.S.3, she was already used to it. In fact, she spent one-third of the term at home, but it never affected her academic performance. Emma was exceptionally brilliant.

Stomping into her class amidst tears, She grabbed her school bag and her classmates watched as she hurried out. They wondered what went wrong this time, as Emma always came back from her counseling sessions unabashed, but this time, it was obvious there was no cause for amusement.
Emma had reached the staircase adjacent to the female restroom when Mabel caught up with her and grabbed her arm from behind.

'What happened Emma?' She inquired as she pulled her into the restroom and shut the door behind.
Mabel had seen the distressed look on her friend's face and the teary eyes as she walked past her own class through the window, and she knew all was not well.

Emma dropped her bag and broke into tears, sitting on the floor. 'Why has God created me this way?', She lamented. 'What did I do wrong? God has really been so unfair to me...'

'Hush!', Mabel cut in. stooping before her. 'Don't ever say that again, please'. Emma didn't need to say more. Apart from her mother, Mabel was the next person who really understood her.

'Emma, she continued. You dont have to let people's opinions cloud your self-esteem'.

'Self-esteem is not needed here May', Emma countered. 'not when even the counselor who is supposed to help me nurture it neuters it by mocking me'.

Mabel shook her head in understanding. Now she knew why her friend was so hurt, and she knew she had to heal that wound real fast.

'Notwithstanding, Emma', Mabel continued, 'you shouldn't let it bother you. That was what she said, not what you are'. She raised her chin and gave her an encouraging smile. 'You are a strong girl Emmanuella, you may have health challenges but you have been strong enough to face and fight it, and lucky you, your mum is a nurse and she takes good care of you. As a matter of fact, you are a very beautiful girl, you have everything any girl would pray for.'

Emma grinned shyly. She knew what her friend meant. It usually took no effort at all to catch people's attention, especially boys. Emma was the perfect example of perfect!

'It doesn't make sense May', she sniffed, the smile gradually disappearing. 'What is the essence when the next day, I'm either down with a chronic fever or fallen unconscious?'

There was dead silence for some minutes as Mabel ransacked her brain for what else to say that wouldn't contradict her convictions. Of course, everyone would pray to have Emma's kind of personality, but who would ever wish for such challenges? Truth be told, no one would ever ask to suffer. But all the same, she needed to console her friend. She couldn't let her keep wallowing in dejection.

She offered her a piece of handkerchief to dry her tears and continued 'Look here girl, that is the more reason God has given you the strength to overcome. Believe me, God makes no errors in His creations. He only makes us face challenges to prepare and strengthen us for the greatness ahead'.

Greatness? Was there really any greatness ahead for her? Emma thought. Her friend had definitely forgotten that her life span was limited, That SS patients don't live long. Thanks to Diclofenac that she has had to swallow regularly, a pain reliever prescribed for her, as her crisis mostly came at night and there was nearly no other drug that eased her of the pain. Moreover, the doctor had told her mother that she wouldn't live past her 25th birthday, so to her, there was barely any greatness in sight. Nevertheless, her loved ones believe in the 'faith theory', that with God, all things are possible. Yeah, she also had faith, but how much?

Emma smiled wryly and teased, 'You this lady Evangelist! Please don't start with the sermons today abeg, I've heard them times without number'.

'Silly girl!', Mabel grinned. 'you always find your way out, don't you?'

'Whatever!'

Emma saw Mabel as the too religious type. Mabel had been ringing it into her ears that she needed to give her life to Christ, but Emma saw all that as trash. As long as she was living right. went to church and believed God exists, she saw no reason why she should make that commitment. She wasn't aspiring to be a pastor anyway, and this little life that she is destined to have, she wanted to make a meaning of it, not tie herself down with any religious obligations.

Mabel smacked her playfully, 'Come off it girl, let's be realistic here. You don't have to blame God for making you special. You feel your condition is the worst, but think of those who are being bedridden in the hospital, and even those on life support. You are much better than them Emma, so snap out of your illusions and face reality'.

*Emma looked sternly at her friend and shook her head. Perhaps people hadn't discovered the genius in her because she was exceptionally quiet. Mabel was a very good thinker, but one that thinks more than she talks, probably due to her native accent which she often tried to hide, but a genius in calculations, especially Mathematics; the almighty subject Emma despised the most. It was like their friendship was perfect because they complemented each other.

'You know what May?', Emma whispered jokingly, 'You are the most intelligent but craziest friend I have ever known!'

'Well, I'd say it's a mutual thing girlfriend', Mabel smiled as she offered Emma a hand and pulled her up to her feet. Just then, the restroom door flung open.

'So you girls are here?', Oyin inquired, rather rhetorically.

'Well, May escorted me to the restroom', Emma answered sharply, 'And we were just about to leave when you came in, so enjoy your stay'.

Oyin hissed as she walked past them and headed for one of the toilets. She had always despised Emma right from their first year. Apart from the fact that Emma outshines her academically, Oyin saw her as a threat because she got more attention than her in class, and in school generally. Oyin, being the Principal's daughter, always held her head high. She had no regard for anybody and always wanted everything to herself- attention and all.

'Like the toilet is a guest house, right?' she retorted, turning to face the duo as she just realized what Emma's words denoted. 'I'm pretty sure you came here to cry your eyeballs out, and then your PS here came to wipe your tears with her school uniform', Oyin scorned. She had seen Emma leave the classroom frustrated and now she had her chance to make jest of her.

'Well done Oyin, clap for yourself!', Emma snapped back, flinging her school bag over her shoulder. 'at least for the first time this year, you are using your brain'.

*'You dare not talk to me like that again, or else...' Oyin threatened, pointing a warning finger at Emma who grinned mischievously. 'Anyway, for your info', she continued, 'the Economics teacher is in class, that is if you even care to attend'. 'And as for you' her permanent secretary', she pointed at Mabel, *'I think I just saw the Accounts teacher going into your class.

'Oh thanks', Mabel answered with a worried look.
'Save your gratitude, puppet!' Oyin fired. 'And you had better stop imitating this one before she ruins you!' she eyed Emma as she entered the toilet and shut the door with a loud bang intentionally.

Knowing her friend would not let it go, Mabel pulled Emma towards the exit and motioned to her to keep quiet.

'No May, let me reply the idiot!', she protested as she forced herself out of Mabel's grip. 'You know what, Oyin', she moved closer to the toilet door and raised her voice for more audibility, 'If you hadn't killed your ego with your attention-seeking facades, then you wouldn't have so much contempt for me!'

'What?!', Oyin yelled from within. How she wished she could get hold of that freak and strangle her! She should have said that to her face if she had the guts!

Satisfied that she had made the rebellious impact she intended, Emma tiptoed stealthily out of the restroom, as Mabel who had been watching with arms akimbo followed suit. Oblivious of their exit, Oyin continued to rant and curse.

'Oh my! Emma! You are never going to change!', Mabel said amidst giggles as they got out.
Emma gave a broad grin. 'You know, I don't usually mean to be rude, but those words always come in handy, especially for naughty girls like Oyin'.

'Oh yeah, I can see that. Like 'May escorted me to the restroom', right?', She winked.
Emma burst out laughing. 'But I wasn't lying you know, and I always say, May, she said, putting her arm across her shoulder, 'There is a clear difference between lying, and not telling the truth.'

'Hmmm, sly fox!', Mabel shook her head as she pushed her off playfully and headed for her class, while Emma also made for hers.

- Temi