Adaobi Nwaubani - I Do Not Come to You by Chance

‘Kings, I don’t think these girls understand English. Explain to them what I’m saying.’

I reached out and tapped one of the girls. With fingers on my face, I puffed out my cheek, and showed her what Cash Daddy wanted.

‘Ahhnnnnnnnnnnnn,’ she said and smiled, then went to work.

‘So how is your mother’s health now?’ Cash Daddy asked. ‘Is she feeling better?’

‘Yes, she’s a lot better. She eventually saw the eye specialist and they did some tests. The medicine he gave her seems to be working.’

He nodded.

‘Kings, I don’t believe that at this stage in your life you’re still talking about going back to school. Look, don’t burn down your whole house because of the presence of a rat. You know what we shall do? Just hold on for a while. Just hold on. Once I become governor, I’ll find you one small political appointment that will keep her happy.’

He flapped his right hand in the air like someone flicking through a bulky file.

‘Maybe something in the Ministry of Education or Ministry of Finance,’ he said, arriving at the page he wanted at last.

‘How about the Ministry of Works and Transport?’ I asked. Since my father had worked there, my mother would definitely be thrilled.

‘If that’s what you prefer,’ Cash Daddy replied. ‘But it has to be something small that won’t take too much of your attention. Because as soon as I become governor, I’ll have even less time for business than I have now.’

It was understandable for Cash Daddy to be concerned about the future of his business. He had spent years building things up to this level – the local and foreign contacts, the staff, the expertise. He had also taken great pains to recruit and groom me. His suggestion made sense.

‘The problem with you is that you don’t know how to think,’ Cash Daddy continued. ‘Too much book has blocked your brain. You see all these problems you’re having with your mother? They will all disappear as soon as you get married. Can you imagine how happy she’ll be if you brought a wife for her? Once your mother starts seeing grandchildren all over the place, she’ll forget about your job.’

Hmm. This sounded quite attractive. And Merit had the sort of appearance that my mother was likely to fall for. She looked like a utensil, not an ornament.

‘Even me,’ Cash Daddy continued, ‘I’m thinking of picking an extra wife. Because of my new status. You understand?’

He asked the question solemnly, like a humble man struggling to cope with the greatness that had suddenly been thrust upon him. I nodded.

‘After my first term in office, when I’m campaigning for second term, I want to have a beautiful young woman who’ll be following me around. I hear that’s the way they do it in America. I hear they even carry their children around with them sometimes. Maybe, I’ll bring my boy to join me, too. You know he speaks very, very good English. His English is even better than yours.’

How would his current Mrs react to the concept of her husband bringing in a second wife who would be the face of her husband’s campaigns? I could only imagine.

‘But Kings, sometimes you make me wonder.’

He shook his head out of the pimple-presser’s grasp and turned to me.

‘Look, there are many different ways to kill a rat. You just need to forget all the books you read in school and learn how to think smarter. A person who doesn’t know how to dance should look at those who know and imitate their steps. Look at me for example. You know I have my car showrooms and my filling stations?’

I nodded.

‘You know I have my hotels and my rented properties?’

I nodded.

‘That’s being smart. That way, when people ask, I can always point and say, this is what I do that brings in my money, that’s what I do that brings in my money. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

I nodded.

‘You need to look for ways to invest the money you have loaded in your account. There are so many business opportunities for you to choose from. Take telecommunications for example. With this new GSM technology, soon, everybody is going to be able to afford cellular phones. What stops you from getting involved in that? Then there’s the Internet. From what I hear, very soon, even poor people won’t be able to do anything without using the internet. What stops you from importing equipment and starting your own business centre?’

He waited for me to answer.

‘Nothing.’

‘You see? Kings, use your brain. If the cow makes its tail beautiful, it will be useful for swatting flies; if it makes its horn beautiful, it will be useful for drinking wine. Learn how to make your money work for you.’

As usual, Cash Daddy was making a great deal of sense. The best thing was just to put Azuka out of my mind and move on with my life.

The documentary was called Chief Boniface Mbamalu – The Politician, The Man. All his years of living on stage, of playing the parts of ambassadors and business moguls and top government officials, were definitely paying off. Cash Daddy sat composed in a knee-length isi-agu outfit and red cap. With legs spread slightly apart and hands folded on his knees, my uncle stared the viewers straight in the eyes and repeated his original promises. He had mapped out strategies to attract foreign investors for the development of infrastructure. He was determined to eliminate corruption from Abia State, starting from the grass roots. He knew he had enemies who did not want him to be governor because they were afraid of his planned reforms, but he was undeterred. It was all about the people of Abia. He was willing to lay down his life for us.

The producers had also interviewed his mother, people from his local community, and people who had benefitted from his various works of charity. I was shocked to learn that, for the past five years, my uncle had been giving scholarships to every single law student from Isiukwuato Local Government Area who was studying in a Nigerian university. He had boasted to me about almost every work of charity he was engaged in. Why had he never mentioned this?

‘Why did he choose only the law students?’ Eugene asked.

‘We’re the learned profession,’ Charity replied.

‘Please, shut up,’ Eugene said. ‘You make so much noise about this your law. What do you then expect us doctors to do?’

This was one of those rare times when all my siblings were back home on school holidays at the same time. Godfrey had made my house his permanent base for the past year or more; Eugene and Charity had come from Umuahia a few days ago. All universities had thought it wise to take a break and reopen after the elections. No school wanted to bear the burden of quelling any tempests that might arise from polling day turbulence.

My mother’s niece’s daughter came out of the kitchen.

‘Brother Kingsley, your food is ready.’

I left my siblings to their teasing and went over to the dining room. They had already eaten. I realised how hungry I was when I got a whiff of the thick paste of egusi soup that had huge chunks of chicken, okporoko fish, and cow leg protruding from the exotic china bowl.

The front door opened and there was a noise as if a riot had just started in the market.

‘Hey, Kings!’ Godfrey shouted on his way upstairs.

‘Hello,’ I responded.

Godfrey was hardly ever without his party of friends. Each day, he appeared with a new set. The two chaps he had come in with also greeted me and followed him upstairs. They were having a rowdy conversation about a European Champions League football match and making almost as much noise as the supporters who had gathered in the stadium for the match must have made. Recently, my brother had bestowed his life on the Arsenal football club. He never missed watching any of their matches, knew the names and birthdays of all the players, and had their face caps, mufflers, T-shirts… If only my brother could be more responsible with his time and money.