CHAPTER 11
My heart was glad because my mother was prepared to join me in my cause, she believed i had witnessed so much traumatising things as a young child and it was normal for me to be willing to do anything i want to do. It did not take long for the next cock to crow, I was the first person to wake up at home that morning which was unusual, i went to meet my mother in her room which was my normal obligation as a child to pay respect to my parent. Mothers are very smart in thinking, as she saw me... she understood I was ready to go to the Coventry and the next thing she said to my father that i decided to learn mat weaving and i would be going to her uncle place everyday to learn how to make sleeping mats and baskets.
upon hearing this, my father was very happy and pleased that I found what i wanted to do with my life so quick, he ordered my mother to pack some roasted yam as my lunch pack, I was so happy that my mother was able to fool my father and i could start going to school.
My second day in school was interesting, we continued to learn English alphabets, we were been taught how to combine two letters and three letters together. We started arithmetic, it was easy for me to understand arithmetic than English but i was getting along fine. the white ladies teaching us were good and patients with us, they have got a translator in class to help us understand what they were trying to say, we were given assignments and classwork which i had to rush up and do in the class because i knew i would not have time to do this at home. The revered picked up interest in me, he likes me so much that calls me his son and not by my name, we had a long chat after close of school after telling him the lie my mother told my father, he was forced to keep me in the Coventry till when it was time for my mother's uncle to release me.
When i got home that night, my father prepared a good soup using the brown mouse he killed in the farm, he made me understand that he his not going to force me to be a farmer, if I have chosen to become a weaver, he his so proud of my choice and he his prepared to support me. The poor man has been deceived by my mother i thought in my mind. One day for the owner but ninety nine days for the thief... it used to be my father's favourite coat, how long can we keep up with this lies?
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