Suspended for Loving My Dying Grandma / Chapter 3: Last Bus Home
Suspended for Loving My Dying Grandma

Suspended for Loving My Dying Grandma

Author: Brian Murphy


Chapter 3: Last Bus Home

That night, I enter night bus go house.

The motor park dey busy, conductor dey shout, "Last seat, last seat, Benin, Onitsha!" My own bag small, but my wahala big. As I siddon for window, I dey count streetlights fly past, dey pray make I reach on time.

My roommate send me WhatsApp: counsellor come check hostel, see say I no dey, vex scatter, curse for there.

I say I know.

I see seven or eight missed calls from her, plus plenty one-minute voice notes for WhatsApp—she really dey para.

I no even listen to any.

I just reply her: "Student Ifedike dey request permission go house because grandma dey very sick. I no sure when I go return."

She reply sharp sharp: "I no approve."

Abeg, whether you approve or not no concern me again—I just dey inform you.

The next day as I reach house, grandma die.

Even as I dey mourn, I thank God say I fit see her last time before she go. Neighbours come with fufu and bitterleaf soup, say make we chop small, but food no enter my mouth.

After burial, my papa tell me say that day wey I reach house, counsellor call am.

"Now wey things for house don settle, try go back school, no delay your studies."

"Papa, this our counsellor..."

Anybody fit guess say she no talk anything good give my papa.

He pat my shoulder. "I know, you no do anything wrong. No worry, anyhow, I dey your back."

I nod.

As I dey go back school, I send counsellor message: I talk say things for house don settle, I go reach school that evening.

She no reply, even after I reach hostel.

But me I know say she no go just leave me like that.

My roommate, Tega, see me come back shout, "You don finally show! You for see Aunty Grace that day—she nearly scatter our hostel! Four guys wey tall pass 1.8 meters, all dey shake for her 1.6-meter wahala!"

I clean my ear. "Wetin una dey fear? She wan punish all of us?"

Hostel leader, wey be Class Rep, dey worry: "Better go see Aunty Grace tomorrow, try beg her. She vex well this time—make she no give you demerit."

Beg her?

Na joke—e better say I no insult her sef.

Suddenly, the youngest shout, "Third, check group chat—Aunty Grace don drop message!"

Ah?

Almost midnight—wetin she dey do?

All of us rush open WhatsApp.

True true, counsellor wey ignore me all day, now dey disgrace me for 200-man department group.

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