Fearless five by four bo.., p.1
Fearless Five by Four Boxed Set, page 1
FEARLESS FIVE BY FOUR BOX SET
by Chioma Nnani, Chinedu Enechi, John Ukah and John Achile Yusuf
Copyright © 2020
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any format, including electronic or mechanical, without prior permission from the author.
All rights reserved worldwide.
Published by THE FEARLESS STORYTELLER HOUSE EMPORIUM LTD
Email: info@fearlessstoryteller.org
ISBN: 978-978-54707-9-6
BECAUSE HOME IS …
BECAUSE HOME IS …
CHIOMA NNANI
THE FEARLESS STORYTELLER HOUSE EMPORIUM LTD
BECAUSE HOME IS …
Copyright © 2017 Chioma Nnani
Cover design by Godson Okeiyi
Edited by Efioanwan Edem
Published by THE FEARLESS STORYTELLER HOUSE EMPORIUM LTD
Distributed by Okadabooks
ISBN: 978-978-54922-1-7
For everyone trying to find their way home.
BECAUSE HOME IS …
As she gained entry into the house and shut the door behind her, Cassandra smiled. It felt so good to be home.
She put down her bags and made her way to the kitchen. She felt dehydrated. Flying always did that to her. She needed to quench that particular thirst, before she saw to anything else.
Three minutes later, Cassie downed a home-made tropical fruit smoothie and exhaled. It was good to be home. She loved her job, but it sometimes required her to be away from home for days – or even weeks – at a time. Her most recent trip had lasted seven very long days and six really lonely nights. She was one of the most respected set designers on the continent. She felt truly grateful for the opportunities her job afforded her, but there was something about being home. Even her kitchen welcomed her. The warmth and the embrace …
She felt the embrace of the two hands that snaked their way around her waist from behind to enclose her in a different kind of way. They were enough to make her smile. So she turned around to face him. Paul. Her husband. She hadn't even heard him come down the stairs. He was wearing just a pair of boxers and looked so at ease that Cassie's heart flipped.
Seeing Paul's smile made Cassie break into an even broader one of her own. It took her breath away. When she returned his embrace, she felt him breathe her in and heard him murmur her name. “Cassie.”
“Happy birthday,” she whispered. “I promised I'd make it back on time.”
“You did,” he replied. “But my birthday is tomorrow.”
“I know. Consider this, an early birthday present.”
“Thank you,” he managed to say, before his mouth took Cassie's.
How she loved this man! Being home meant being with him. Four years of marriage and he still excited her. Made her feel things. Made her feel … safe. Yet, it hadn't always been like this.
When Cassandra Ihuoma Nwoye graduated from the University of Strathclyde nearly eight years ago, she thought she had everything figured out. And why not?
After spending five years in Scotland, she had the coveted Master of Naval Architecture and Marine Engineering, an impressive contact list, valuable work experience and was practically drunk on determination. She was also high on enthusiasm. This arsenal was all that she needed. Besides, she was easy on the eye – her features were delicate, yet striking. So, what could possibly go wrong? The world was at her feet.
There was no reason – none that she or anyone who knew her, could think of – for her to fail. She had been voted “Most Likely To Start Running Her Own Ship Within The Shortest Possible Time”, for three consecutive years by her peers.
So, a mere three hours after her university graduation ceremony, Cassie got on a London-bound National Express coach. She had been offered a role within the production and design team of a growing London-based architectural firm.
Dougall's was what some would refer to as a full-service firm with an expansive body of work, but Cassie was especially interested in one area: submarine design. She was to resume at 0900 hours the following day. With her coach scheduled to arrive London Victoria Coach Station at 0630hours the day after her graduation, Cassie knew she would have barely two and a half hours to get ready for her first day at work.
She had done some work with Dougall's during one of her summer vacations. Both sides – she, as well as Dougall's management – had been so pleased with the experience, that they craved an extension. A job, pending the completion of her university degree, had been offered and accepted.
True, it wasn't the Navy and they didn't have associate offices in just about every European country. But it was a start, and an excellent one, at that. The opportunities that could come her way as a direct result of being employed here, were virtually infinite. A good start was all that Cassie needed to make her own way.
Cassie was what some called a grafter. She wasn't afraid of hard work. In fact, she relished it. Looks could and would eventually fade, but work ethic could only get better with time. She knew the importance of making a good impression. That was why she had no qualms about leaving Glasgow how and when she did. She was good at leaving what needed to be left behind as she chased any dream she set her mind on.
She wasn't even leaving a lot, behind. Many of the people she had originally started her course with, had graduated the previous year. She had chosen to go the whole hog and get a Masters, hence the additional year. So, she had celebrated graduation alongside many people, with whom she didn't already share a four-year bond.
No member of her family had been at her graduation, either. Her parents said, 48 hours before, that they were unable to make it. There was no chance of either of her younger sisters attending. And her brother was, well, himself.
So she had had no issues with upping and leaving. No second thoughts, no sense of foreboding, no jitters, nothing. She was doing what she needed to do, because it would all pay off. One day, she would look back and be glad that she had done this. She just had to get there, one step at a time. And Dougall's was a good starting point.
They had already indicated that they were interested in entering into a long-term relationship with her. They knew she had promise; she had already given them a hint of that. It would only be a matter of time before she owned her own business. And that was the ultimate goal.
She had it all worked out. Her future was bright and she was well-equipped.
But Cassie didn't count on the recession. Many people didn't. So, barely six months after graduating from university and heading to London with stars in her eyes, Cassandra found herself unemployed. She wasn't the only one whose professional future was in doubt – Dougall's had to downsize.
The usual rule with these things was 'last one in, first one out'. It didn't matter how good someone was at their job or how much promise they showed. The situation was just what it was. It was nothing personal. They were sorry to see her go and wished her the best.
Six months later, Dougall's officially ceased to exist. Unable to meet their own financial obligations, they went into administration. Financial pressure had turned most of their regular clients into chronic debtors. Short of cooking their books, there was simply no way for Dougall's to obtain funds needed to stay afloat. A bank loan was out of the question.
The banks were in trouble, too. According to some who claimed to be in the know, the bankers and their excesses had brought the United Kingdom to her knees.
Many called for the heads of bankers. It appeared that some bankers were also of the opinion that their lives weren't worth much. Some committed suicide by throwing themselves from the tops of the tallest buildings they could find in Canary Wharf. There were those who felt inspired to leap in front of moving trains. A few chose to eat their guns.
Cassie could relate. She understood the brand of hopelessness, which could convince a person that it would be better for them to end it all. She used to think she was a really positive person, but it was difficult to remain upbeat when all her attempts to find meaningful employment were fruitless.
Living in London was also expensive. Property prices were ridiculous, which was probably how they had all found themselves in this mess, in the first place. But sub-prime market or not, there were some things that could not be denied.
She had heard it said that a problem shared, is a problem half solved. Yet, if the news was to be believed – and Cassie was a believer – despair was a nationwide religion. If there were so many people in the same shoes, from where was salvation to come?
Sure, there were counsellors, the Job Centre, charities, Citizens Advice Bureaux, but they were incapable of offering real solutions. They gave you a false sense of hope, which just helped you feel more alone – when those false hopes eventually fell through. And feeling alone was something that Cassie was quite conversant with.
That was what she felt at her university graduation. She had slaved away for six years – including a foundation year spent at a college in Reading before going to Strathclyde – but her family did not show up at the end of it all. It was almost like they didn't even acknowledge her, or her efforts; like they weren't proud of her achievements.
But she pasted a smile on her face. It was her normal. Yet, there were some situations where pasting on a smile didn't suffice. With her finances so dire and her work prospects so bleak, Cassie felt desperate. She needed money, not just to survive, but also to renew her visa. Yes, s
Some British establishments had shut down, but others were functioning just fine. The Home Office wasn't about to cut anyone some slack just because their circumstances had changed for the worse. If anything, they were determined to fulfil the publicised mandate of the political party holding sway at the time, which was to keep immigration to a minimum. That meant keeping as many people as possible out of the United Kingdom. Their previous contributions were irrelevant; if they were no longer useful, they had become redundant. And if they were redundant, they had to return from whence they came.
Cassie never thought she would be in such a position. In fact, if anyone had previously warned her in a dream, trance or prophecy, she would have laughed in their face. But when she discovered that the contents of her bank account would not meet the requirements of the Home Office, she contacted her parents and asked for help. Her father didn't bother to reply. Her mother sent her a single SMS: “Hold on and we will try to send you the money when we can. We are taking care of your brother's needs.”
Ah, her brother. Mark.
The blood relation who was determined to be the bane of her life. For as long as Cassie could remember, Mark had openly competed with her. The competition made no sense – she wasn't interested and had said so, countless times. The taunts and mockery made even less sense. Their parents' complacence made the least sense.
As the first son, he was privileged, a demi-god, right from birth. She and her other sibling were just girls; they didn't count as much. So, whenever Cassie clashed with her younger brother, her parents took his side. When she kept to herself – because she knew it was in his character to be as spiteful and twisted as he could – they accused her of being unforgiving. They said that unforgiveness would bring a curse on her; that God would punish her, for refusing to forgive her only brother.
Cassie wondered how many times she needed to put herself in harm's way, to prove forgiveness. It was in Mark's nature to be vindictive and envious. It wasn't just the 'usual' sibling rivalry. Oh, no! It went far beyond that. His actions were carefully timed and his words precisely crafted, to cause her maximum damage.
But for some reason, Cassie's parents failed to see that. There were times when Cassie wondered what would happen, if she was gone. Would her parents even notice? Would they care? She knew they wouldn't. And why would they? She wasn't the child they wanted. She was the wrong gender. They wanted a boy, but she happened to arrive. The wrong child.
Mark took great delight in telling Cassie that she was good for nothing. That she would never be somebody. Calling her 'useless' was a favourite pastime for him. Along with 'fat' and 'stupid'. He liked to say that nobody would ever find Cassie attractive; that when she was older, nobody would ever want to be with her, never mind marry her. That she would end up alone. He had actually said that he would rather die than see her married and happy. He also said that he would make sure she never amounted to anything.
Their parents didn't think their precious son should be called to order, over his utterances. He was a boy – he was entitled to say whatever he wanted. It appeared he was also entitled – even encouraged to do whatever he wanted – especially to her detriment.
That was why when Cassie was barely through her first year in the university, her father sent her an SMS instructing her to pick Mark up from Heathrow Airport. To say that Cassie was astounded was an understatement. She hadn't even known that there were any plans for him to visit, never mind study, in the United Kingdom!
She remembered the family meetings that had been held when the option of her furthering her education in the United Kingdom came up. Her brother had been rather vocal. In his opinion, it was a waste of time and money because Cassie would never do well at a foreign institution. If she couldn’t hack it in Nigeria, expecting her to do well abroad was a costly exercise in futility.
Cassie spent much of her life feeling wrong. Feeling like she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Feeling like she had to apologise for who she was, what she thought, how she felt. Being wrong because she couldn’t conform. She couldn’t be what many people wanted her to be.
One could only carry on for so long, before they got tired. And Cassie did; she got tired. Tired of being a victim. Tired of trying to please.
Her parents couldn’t be bothered, even when she gave them opportunities. They couldn’t be bothered to show up for her graduation, or come through for her when it mattered.
So, Cassie overstayed. She overstayed her welcome in London and overstayed her visa in the United Kingdom.
Maybe her parents did not realise just how serious that was. Maybe they did not care. The reality of their first daughter being homeless did not seem to bother them. They just expected her to make good on certain promises.
Promises to be a pride to her family back home.
Promises to prove that her tuition fees, had not been a waste.
Promises to prove that she was worthy of her family name, by bringing laurels back home.
It didn't matter that some of these 'promises' were things they had dreamed up and foisted upon her. But till they said so, there was no need for her to even think about visiting Nigeria.
Was she so weak, that she couldn't endure? Nothing good came easy. Was she so selfish, did she really want her parents to die of shame? People would laugh at them. Did Cassandra not realise how much her family had had to sacrifice? Yet she wanted to come back with nothing? Was this how she intended to repay them for all they had done for her? What about her mother? Even when everyone had been so dead set against her travelling to the United Kingdom, her mother had put in a good word for her. Yet she thought that coming home with a piece of paper – even if it was a postgraduate degree – was good enough?
That was not the golden fleece!
Had she forgotten so soon how she had been wasting away in Nigeria because she had been unable to secure admission into any Nigerian university? Had she forgotten how she had wept and prayed for the miracle of university admission?
The saying was true – that people forgot what they had been through when their breakthrough eventually arrived. There was no other explanation.
That was why, now that she had completed her university education, she was being wicked and unreasonable. How many people did she know who, had jobs waiting for them when they returned home from studying abroad? She even studied an unusual course – so, there just weren't any jobs in Nigeria, for graduates like her.
She just had to persevere, stop being selfish and re-focus on her family's needs. They were counting on her and God would help her. Her mother was sure of it.
In fact, her mother was so sure that she asked her pastor if he would meet with Cassie when next he was in England. Their church had an upcoming crusade in London. Her mother just knew that if Cassie held on and saw 'her man of God', her miracle would come. She just had to wait three more months.
The pastor had assured Cassie's mother that in the meantime, God would protect Cassie from the eyes of the police, immigration and other forces. He would meet and pray with her at the crusade, after which she would definitely have a big testimony. But until then, it would do her good to attend services at the London branch of his church.
