DESTINY ESTATE, PORT HARCOURT, RIVERS STATE.
The state of being a blind young adult was something people hardly considered.
People generally assumed blind people were either really young children or middle-agers. Did people think blindness was like a psychiatric disease with lucid intervals from ages twelve or so to forty and thereabout?
Ayanate pondered on this as she prepared breakfast for herself and her mother.
She had just placed a warm mug of chocolate drink beside a plate containing four slices of bread and another ceramic bowl with perfectly-made scrambled eggs on the dining table when she heard her mother's regal heels clopping on the tiles as she approached the dining room.
Ayanate had always considered the dining room unreasonably large for their small family. It had an elliptical, glazed mahogany table covered with a cream and brown lace tablecloth that had an intricate embroidery design.
There was a low flower vase placed strategically at the center. Beautifully designed table mats lay on the table.
Eight upholstered high-back chairs surrounded the table.
It wasn't like they entertained guests often, so what was the waste for?
Her mother always felt she had an unorthodox thought pattern. Ayanate decided not to add this thought to the list of evidence that corroborated that fact. There would be no mention from her of the wastage of space and money that this dinning represented.
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Her reverie was cut short when she heard a sound proceeding from her mother's mouth who had already taken a seat at the table.
Now, moans of satisfaction might be normal in other homes, but it was strange to Ayanate because her mom was the queen of ice, not in a Wicked-Witch-of-the-West way, but in a high-power-shark-lawyer sort of way.
Ayanate was wise enough not to admit this to anyone but her hyperactive inner self.
Going by this, a moan of pleasure at food is normally a sign that her mother was super excited about something.
Ayanate's guess didn't miss a beat coming. She could bet all her savings on the fact that this excitement was work-related.
Before she could ride her train of thought further, her mother spoke through her bread-filled mouth. Another absurdity.
"How is school, Ayanate?"
"As fine as it can be," Ayanate replied with a shrug, standing opposite her mother.
Righteous continued speaking without looking up from her phone. She was scrolling through the news feed for the day. It had become her habit to multitask—eat and read—every morning before heading for work.
"I'll probably graduate as the best student if they take those law-related courses off our mandatory list in this academic session." Ayanate intentionally made that remark to spite her mother. Somehow, her mother had been
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sending signals that she wanted her daughter to take up her career baton and continue the legislative legacy she had already established. Ayanate, having a mind of her own, had other plans.
Righteous raised her head to roll her eyes at Ayanate, although she knew her daughter would not see her. She was, however, stopped in her tracks by what she saw.
"Have you been invited to a festival I am not aware of?" Righteous asked, her brows scrunched in alarm.
Her daughter was dressed in the most unimaginable and incompatible off-color skirt and blouse ever known to mankind. Even her flip-flops were also a mismatch.
Ayanate, in her mother's bewildered eyes, looked like an old village witch that hadn't slept all night. The only difference was that there were no bags under her eyes, no sign of fatigue that could prove that she had been flying at night in a witches' coven instead of sleeping in her bed.
"No," Ayanate sheepishly replied with a smirk forming slightly. She had been waiting to see how her mother would deal with this.
"Did you forget the color class of your wardrobe?" Turns out high-power-shark-lawyer type of moms were ultra organized, and that extended to their children's wardrobe.
"No."
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"Then, what in the love of all things holy is going on with your attire?" Despite herself, Righteous was bemused and confused all at once. What had come over her daughter?
"Mom, I'm a big girl and big girls love to explore and try things out."
"Well, it's funny because you look anything but grown up wearing that orange top and lime skirt, young lady.
You look like a masquerade," her mother gushed without a hint of sarcasm.
"Plus, those tees look really old. We are going to get you something else. Get ready. When I get back, we are going shopping," Righteous said. She stood and walked around the table to give Ayanate a quick peck on her forehead before heading for the door.
"I have a hearing in thirty minutes and I am going to be driving like a maniac," Righteous said over her shoulders.
"Bye, Mom. Please take care," Ayanate called after her.
"Goodbye, sweetheart." The clak clak of her mother's shoes punctuated her words as she exited the house through the front door.
"Hmm, sweetheart? She just called me sweetheart. Well, thank God she didn't call me 'baby' today. Maybe she has finally started accepting the fact that I'm a grown up now," Ayanate whispered to herself. "As long as she doesn't call me baby, anything else is fine by me."
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Ayanate breathed a sigh of relief. The conversation went way better than she expected. She knew she had nothing to fear about her mother's driving and the thirty minutes she mentioned. Most likely, her mother referred to her personal alarm rather than the time fixed by the court for the hearing.
She probably should change now. She'd proved her point, and now that she thought of it, orange and lime was a weird combo.
---
MOSCOW ROAD, PORT HARCOURT, RIVERS STATE.
Being a computer geek was lucrative. Munachimso Onuoha was a proof of that fact, having built his own firm to the height it currently boasted. His computer firm, Charlie's Hub, was named after Charles Babbage, the polymath regarded as the father of computers.
Munachimso fancied himself to be a polymath too when it came to computers, as he could do virtually anything computer related aside from actually making the computers.
He was grateful he ventured into business while he was in school. Although his grades suffered because of the amount of time he had to invest into the infant firm, he was doing better than the best graduating student of his set, financial-wise.
His black 2014 model Honda Civic pulled into the parking lot reserved for him at the Golden Plaza where his firm occupied the entire third floor.
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No one had ever accused him of having a fine taste in cars.
He was okay with his preferences, and that was what mattered.
The story was not the same for a lot of his clients, like the ones he knew were currently waiting in his lobby.
As he parked his car, he saw a flashy-looking Range Rovers model that he could not name even if he had a gun to his head just by his left. The said Range Rovers had armed police officers conspicuously guarding it, and he could not shake off the feeling of awe he felt. Who would have thought that he could keep men of such stature waiting when a few years back he would have run himself ragged to have such as these in his contact list even if they never spoke. Time had a way of handing out rewards.
As he walked into The Golden Plaza, his thoughts roamed the presentations he had just made on 'webinars'
being the new way. That was the modern truth. Live presentations, lectures or workshops happened in real time with participants from all over the world. Never mind that he had to appear in person to teach this truth.
He was deep in his technological wander lust when the elevator bell chimed, informing him of his successful arrival on the third floor. From here, he would take the stairs to ensure that his arrival was not announced and he would have settled in before anyone was let into his office.
Once again, he was grateful for the wisdom employed by the building contractors in placing a stairwell away from the sight of those sitting in the reception area.
---
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He watched, standing up, smiling and with an extended hand, as his clients made his way to the plush seat opposite his table.
Munachimso was not given to the grandiose way of life but when he saw the founder of Ibu Wahid University take in the interior of his office, he felt proud of the millions he invested into his firm as he knew that the respect the older man had for him must have risen a notch.
"Thank you for accommodating the fact I moved up the appointment. I have to be at an impromptu series of meetings outside the country and I had to be here myself," the man said in a deep voice.
"It is all good, sir," Munachimso replied, rewarding his clients with one of his professional smiles. "We are always at your service."
"Have you gone through the report prepared by my people?" asked Mr. Abdulazzi Usman, driving to the point after a brief handshake.
"Yes, sir, and I would like to inform you that the problem is one that is fixable. We could strengthen the firewall of your current website and not necessarily make a new one from scratch."
"I want a new one."
"And I do not object to that, but I had to tell you this in the interest of full disclosure. As you might have already guessed, I stand to gain more if we go this way, although every penny would be worth the job."
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"This kind of conduct would not be condoned in my institution. It goes without saying that I want the best of the best."
Munachimso had been briefed by the report of the breach in the website by some student who managed to penetrate the firewall and manipulate their results.
"You can rest assured that we will deliver the programming language..."
"Not to cut you off, but you do not have to bore me with the details. I am a man who believes in actions more than promises."
"Then, you wait and see, sir!"
"What are you charging?"
"Due to..."
"I did not ask all that."
"Seventeen million naira."
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"My P.A. will see you. Thank you for your time." They both arose and shook hands before the client made a hasty exit out of his office.
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