Suspended for Loving My Dying Grandma / Chapter 1: No Mercy for Permission
Suspended for Loving My Dying Grandma

Suspended for Loving My Dying Grandma

Author: Brian Murphy

Chapter 1: No Mercy for Permission

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Grandma dey very sick. I go meet counsellor make I ask for permission to travel, but she no gree at all.

As I waka inside that small, stuffy office with plenty files scatter for table and the faint smell of mothballs, my heart dey beat like ogene. Sweat dey gather for my armpit, even though AC no dey. Even the ceiling fan dey do 'nyin nyin', as if e dey mock my wahala. I stand for front of Aunty Grace, grip my permission slip like say na prayer point. She just look me and say, "Why you dey ask for permission when nobody don die? Even if she die, wetin you wan go do for house?" Her voice sharp like pepper. The way she talk am, e be like say person life nor mean anything for her eye. For that moment, e be like say cold breeze pass my back.

The counsellor just talk am like say e no mean anything, then she fling my permission slip waka one side, come add, "Oya, comot for here. I no dey approve am."

She no even look my face again, just bend down dey write her thing, like say na small matter I bring come. The biro for her hand dey scratch paper, as if she dey pursue my presence from the room with each stroke. I stand dey watch her, my chest dey rise. For Naija, e dey pain when elder just dey brush your pain aside like say you be fly.

I bite my lip, fight make I no vex for her front. I no believe say person fit get mind reach like that. I just talk, "Aunty Grace, na my real grandma o."

She adjust her glasses, face me with vex. "Who no get grandma? Na only you? You special? Even if na your real grandma—she never die, abi?"

Anger just rush me, my whole body hot. My eyes dey burn, but I no wan show am say e dey pain me. For my mind I dey think: for this our country, who go stand for you if person wey suppose protect you dey do like say your matter no matter?

I no believe say person wey suppose be example, teacher for school, fit talk like that. For my mind, I dey remember all the times wey I hear say counsellor suppose help student, not be to break your spirit. I look around, as if the old picture of the vice-chancellor for wall go talk sense into her.

I no fit hold myself, I raise my voice: "She dey for hospital ICU now. This fit be the last time wey I go see her!"

GBAAM!

The counsellor just jam her pen for table, face change, she shout, "Why you dey shout? You no see say I dey try for you?"

"You know how many students I dey manage? Five classes for Electrical Engineering, two for Electronics—almost two hundred people. Today na you ask for permission, tomorrow another person, how you wan make I do am?"

"Inter-faculty sports dey come and you dey find permission now? Wetin dey worry your head? You be adult—where your sense of responsibility?"

"Make I tell you: university no be play ground wey you go just dey do anyhow..."

She just dey talk her own, while my mind dey turn. For inside, my spirit dey fight: make I beg again? Make I just waka commot? E dey pain me say, for Naija, person fit dey suffer like this just to go see family for house.

Her talk dey vex me, but this no be time to argue. I just hold myself, beg her again.

"Aunty Grace, abeg, I really dey rush, I gats go house quick. If you no believe, I fit call my papa now."

I bring out my phone, wan call my papa, but she wave me off: "No do am. And no try use your papa pressure me—I no send. No matter wetin happen to your grandma, I no go approve this permission. Just forget am."

To hell with am...

If no be say she be teacher, I for don insult her that time she talk, "Even if she die, e no concern you."

No wahala, I no need your yeye permission slip.

You fit hold paper, but you no fit hold my two legs.

I swallow cry, carry my wahala for chest, waka pass corridor wey smell like beans and kerosene. For corridor, I see junior wey dey wait, her own paper for hand—she just sidon, dey look her lap. I wan tell am, "Abeg, no put hope for this counsellor," but I no talk. Everybody for this department sabi say na so Aunty Grace dey do. But today, my own patience don finish.

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