JSS3: English Language – The More You Look

I remember quite vividly, as if it was yesterday, the time I wronged my father. It was my final year in primary school, being just eleven years old then. As I look back in retrospect, now in my final year in God’s Mercy Junior Secondary School, the memory of that occasion remains green.

     It was quite a fine day and the sun was peeping behind the cloud when, having taken my breakfast, Father sent me on an errand to my uncle, Mr. Chukwu, who was living at the other end of the town. I was asked to give him ₦5,000.00 not to spend more than an hour on the errand as he knew that I could be carried away by my uncle’s hospitality for which he was well known. He told me that he had another assignment for me by noon.

     So, I set out quite excitedly. Having trekked some considerable distance, I noticed a crowd of people in a particular open space. I was eager to know what was happening, so I called at the palace. There I saw two men who were inviting people to the centre to double the money they had on them. A group of people was entertaining the bystanders. It was quite a lively scene. Surprisingly enough, adults were stepping forward for this purpose and interestingly, ‘they had their money doubled.’

     Unknown to me that it was pre-arranged, I also took my turn, thinking that the ₦5,000.00 on me would become ₦10,000.00. I had already calculated that I would purchase a handset with the N5,000.00 extra. After some time, one of the two men handed over to me a neatly packed parcel on top of which was a brand new ₦500.00 note. I was instructed not to open it until everybody had left. So after the crowd had dispersed, I proudly opened the parcel hoping to see wads of new notes. But what did I find? It was a neatly arranged packet of pieces of paper cut to the size of a ₦500.00 note. It was indeed a shocker. Within the twinkle of an eye I was sweating profusely, I burst into tears. I looked at my wristwatch, it was 8.15 p.m.

     Meanwhile, Father had become agitated having discovered that I didn’t get to his brother’s house. He, therefore, decided to organise a search party comprising Chinyere, Bala, and Biola, my siblings, and some other relations who combed everywhere.

     At 8.45 p.m., Chinyere first sighted me from afar off as the street light was on that evening and she shouted, ‘Danladi’. The members of the search party were happy beyond imagination and they carried me home shoulder high.

     When I got home, Father asked what had happened and I related the story to him. Contrary to the happy mood of the search party, he gave me a thrashing, the scars of which still remain on my body and which I will show my children.