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In the Name of Mr. Maxwell
The many fights and other incidences at home that invoked the name of Mr. Maxwell had so etched his name in Josephine’s mind such that when sudden pain stung her awake one November morning, she immediately thought of him.
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The many fights and other incidences at home that invoked the name of Mr. Maxwell had so etched his name in Josephine’s mind such that when sudden pain stung her awake one November morning, she immediately thought of him.
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It did not matter that the physical Mr. Maxwell had long since disappeared from their lives, his name remained a permanent part of their house.
Even as she took in the print of a mermaid poised at the foot of a waterfall on the wall facing her bed in the early light of dawn—
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Even as she took in the print of a mermaid poised at the foot of a waterfall on the wall facing her bed in the early light of dawn—
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the electricity having gone off again during the night—Josephine still thought about Mr. Maxwell.
She frowned out of bed, tugged the curtains apart, glared out the window.
No sinister black cats stalked the window sills. No stray dogs barked at unseen threats.
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She frowned out of bed, tugged the curtains apart, glared out the window.
No sinister black cats stalked the window sills. No stray dogs barked at unseen threats.
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And though the rains were still harassing the city this late in November, when harmattan should have forced out musty sweaters, there were no ominous clouds hinting at another tropical rainstorm.
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Indeed, on the horizon, a portion of the grey sky had a shadowy orange ball heralding another sunrise in Abuja. Yet Josephine would still go and smack Joe-Boy a good one.
*
Years after his disappearance, and her family’s subsequent move from Lagos to Abuja,
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*
Years after his disappearance, and her family’s subsequent move from Lagos to Abuja,
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Josephine often thought about Mr. Maxwell, and others who, like him, had vanished, never to be heard from again.
It fascinated her, the often unknowable truth, or truths, behind such disappearances.
Mammy water were the only other phenomena that interested her
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It fascinated her, the often unknowable truth, or truths, behind such disappearances.
Mammy water were the only other phenomena that interested her
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in a loosely similar way, which explained why she’d bought the atypical mermaid print on her wall.
As for those who vanished, a story in the newspaper usually cued those thoughts.
So-and-so left home to get something at the corner store; or went to work, or to see a friend.
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As for those who vanished, a story in the newspaper usually cued those thoughts.
So-and-so left home to get something at the corner store; or went to work, or to see a friend.
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Not been seen or heard from ever since.
Weeks, months, years would go by. Family distressed. Were they kidnapped by juju money seekers? Or did they just up and leave everything and everyone behind and go start over elsewhere?
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Weeks, months, years would go by. Family distressed. Were they kidnapped by juju money seekers? Or did they just up and leave everything and everyone behind and go start over elsewhere?
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She suspected the answers were hidden in plain view and would remain unseen because she did not know how to see them.
At least she’d seen what became of good old Mr. Maxwell.
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At least she’d seen what became of good old Mr. Maxwell.
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At the time he’d disappeared, everyone accepted that greedy, wicked partners of his had killed him for devilish rites that supposedly would make them rich.
She knew better after her first trip to Accra.
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She knew better after her first trip to Accra.
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On the other hand, someone like Mama J couldn’t be persuaded to discern an old thing in a new way. “Stop talking anyhow-anyhow as if you’ve not grown all your teeth,” she said, when Josephine reported her Accra encounter. “That short devil died long ago, thank god.”
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Josephine had not sneered at her mother’s scepticism. She’d learned at Mama J’s feet that the world lived with different truths of the same story.
*
Closing the drapes, Josephine left her room and tried to will Joe-Boy awake from the old three-seater in the corridor
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*
Closing the drapes, Josephine left her room and tried to will Joe-Boy awake from the old three-seater in the corridor
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where he’d slumped into his usual death-sleep.
Telekinesis failed her for the umpteenth time and she wondered why she even bothered.
“Oya, wake up,” she said, while doing her daily karate stretches.
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Telekinesis failed her for the umpteenth time and she wondered why she even bothered.
“Oya, wake up,” she said, while doing her daily karate stretches.
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He pulled his knees up to his chest and slept on. She tried another tack. “My friend wake up before I slap you.”
He smiled then and she lost it. The slap that followed did wake him, though he could not immediately muster enough presence of mind to be scared for dear life.
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He smiled then and she lost it. The slap that followed did wake him, though he could not immediately muster enough presence of mind to be scared for dear life.
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Not for the first time, Josephine wondered how they could be related.
Joe-Boy squinted up with one red eye. Josephine wanted to caution him again about drinking on a work night.
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Joe-Boy squinted up with one red eye. Josephine wanted to caution him again about drinking on a work night.
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Something sad tugged inside her, so she swallowed the reprimand, asked why he wanted to be late for work, and pointed towards the bathroom.
Joe-Boy’s other eye flickered open and he attempted another smile but ended up frowning.
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Joe-Boy’s other eye flickered open and he attempted another smile but ended up frowning.
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He jumped up and stood on his toes facing her. “Why you slap me?” His eyes bulged. “Wetin I do?”
Josephine stood at ease, arms crossed, glared down at him. Being a tall woman had its advantages. “I’ve boiled rice,” she said. “Get stew from the freezer.”
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Josephine stood at ease, arms crossed, glared down at him. Being a tall woman had its advantages. “I’ve boiled rice,” she said. “Get stew from the freezer.”
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Joe-Boy seemed catatonic, an inert mannequin.
“Do you have transport fare?” The words were already out before Josephine told herself they were pointless. “I’ll keep money for you on the kitchen table. Hurry up.”
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“Do you have transport fare?” The words were already out before Josephine told herself they were pointless. “I’ll keep money for you on the kitchen table. Hurry up.”
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By the time she got to the kitchen though, a clean and upbeat Joe-Boy sat at the table reading a magazine, shoving spoonfuls of white rice into his mouth.
He also had an open notepad in which he scribbled now and then.
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He also had an open notepad in which he scribbled now and then.
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“Bush man. Why didn’t you microwave stew?”
Joe-Boy shrugged.
“And what are you reading that can’t wait until you’ve finished eating?”
“Abeg, free me this morning. Pain-in-the-neck older sister.”
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Joe-Boy shrugged.
“And what are you reading that can’t wait until you’ve finished eating?”
“Abeg, free me this morning. Pain-in-the-neck older sister.”
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Josephine stopped by his side and looked at his pad. “I’ll be a pain-in-the-head older monster if you leave that plate in the sink. Your handwriting is beautiful.”
Joe-Boy grunted his thanks.
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Joe-Boy grunted his thanks.
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Josephine didn’t read his notes. She only looked at the words and observed again that he had a calligraphic touch with the extra roll in the tail of letters like ‘g’ and a down-pointing hook to the spine of ‘h’.
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Ttt Still, even though it could be done by any patient and determined person, it looked good to the eye. She thought it hinted at some hidden artistic talent he ought to seek out.
She’d recently caught him stealing her gold Omega watch which she only wore to special events.
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She’d recently caught him stealing her gold Omega watch which she only wore to special events.
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Then the gold jewellery set Attah bought for their cancelled wedding—three rings, a necklace and a pair of earrings—vanished from her closet, but Joe-Boy swore he had nothing to do with the disappearance.
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She scanned the headline on his magazine page. “‘Klepto Pep Talk?’ Why are you interested in that nonsense?”
“Just curious.”
“Curious about what?” she sneered. “Those people are thieves. They should all be in jail.”
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“Just curious.”
“Curious about what?” she sneered. “Those people are thieves. They should all be in jail.”
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A deflated Joe-Boy pulled out his cell phone and offered it to Josephine. “Oya, take. Call police make them come arrest me, Madam Holier-than-thou.”
Josephine ignored the phone. Tea or rice? she pondered.
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Josephine ignored the phone. Tea or rice? she pondered.
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“You’re telling me you’re a kleptomaniac, I should have pity on you because it’s a ‘medical condition’. Abeg.”
Do you know what a kleptomaniac is?”
“A thief. Pure and simple.”
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Do you know what a kleptomaniac is?”
“A thief. Pure and simple.”
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“You see your life? No, ‘Someone with an irrational urge to steal in the absence of an economic motive.’ There are some famous rich people who are known kleptomaniacs.”
“Nice try. All my things that you’ve stolen show you have an economic motive. Money.”
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“Nice try. All my things that you’ve stolen show you have an economic motive. Money.”
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Joe-Boy grabbed a vegetable knife from a rack. “If you hate me like that,” he offered the knife to Josephine hilt first, “why you no just kill me?”
Josephine rolled her eyes and waved off the knife.
“Has it gotten to knives now?” Mama J said, her frame filling the doorway.
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Josephine rolled her eyes and waved off the knife.
“Has it gotten to knives now?” Mama J said, her frame filling the doorway.
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Josephine recapped the situation while deciding to skip breakfast.
Mama J cast her gaze at the ceiling and showed the same surface her palms. “It’s that wicked man,” she said. “He did something to Joe-Boy that day.”
Knowing her mother meant Mr. Maxwell, Josephine scoffed.
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Mama J cast her gaze at the ceiling and showed the same surface her palms. “It’s that wicked man,” she said. “He did something to Joe-Boy that day.”
Knowing her mother meant Mr. Maxwell, Josephine scoffed.
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The day Mama J had brought up yet again lived vividly in their collective memory though it might as well have happened in biblical times.
Moreover, although they all remembered the day differently, Mama J’s recollection, naturally, had become the official household version.
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Moreover, although they all remembered the day differently, Mama J’s recollection, naturally, had become the official household version.
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According to Mama J, Mr. Maxwell had waited outside Joe-Boy’s nursery school and then lured the boy with juju sweets as soon as the pupils came out.
Joe-Boy, a mere five year-old then, recognised Mr. Maxwell and got into the short devil’s Peugeot 504.
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Joe-Boy, a mere five year-old then, recognised Mr. Maxwell and got into the short devil’s Peugeot 504.
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He innocently accepted the charmed sweets the devil offered.
The devil drove her son to a hidden place where he performed devious acts, including initiations into various cults of witchcraft, wickedness, crime, and other unimaginable forms of depravity.
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The devil drove her son to a hidden place where he performed devious acts, including initiations into various cults of witchcraft, wickedness, crime, and other unimaginable forms of depravity.
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Mama J had no doubt the devil also abused her son and then used a magic potion to erase signs of his forceful entry.
To perpetrate his final act of sacrificing Joe-Boy to his god, Mr. Maxwell had to drive to a spot off Agege Motor Way where such things were known to happen.
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To perpetrate his final act of sacrificing Joe-Boy to his god, Mr. Maxwell had to drive to a spot off Agege Motor Way where such things were known to happen.
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Luckily for Joe-Boy, on the way to where he would be sacrificed, Mama J, on her way to pick him up in her Volkswagen Beatle, saw him struggling with the devil in the 504.
It didn’t matter what Mr. Maxwell wrote in his statement to the police when Mama J had him arrested,
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It didn’t matter what Mr. Maxwell wrote in his statement to the police when Mama J had him arrested,
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or what an open-mouthed Joe-Boy himself said at first, Mama J’s version circulated far and wide and Mr. Maxwell became ‘That short devil who kidnapped Joe-Boy and almost used him for money ritual’.
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Thereafter, if Joe-Boy had a fever, threw a tantrum or swiped another kid’s toy, Mama J sang her indelible anthem: “It’s that wicked man. He did something to Joe-Boy that day.”
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It didn’t take long for Joe-Boy to realise Mama J’s version of that day’s events outperformed his in every index that mattered.
Josephine’s recollections of ‘that wicked man’, and not just on the famous day, made him anything but.
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Josephine’s recollections of ‘that wicked man’, and not just on the famous day, made him anything but.
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Long before Joe-Boy’s so-called kidnap happened, she'd known Mr. Maxwell as well as any 12 year-old would know a barrel-like neighbour in a funny hat who never showed special interest in her, though to be fair he never showed special interest in his own children either.
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However, a Friday afternoon encounter, when she and another girl sneaked out of school to get ice cream at a fast food outlet, expanded things.
When she saw him there, her heart raced.
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When she saw him there, her heart raced.
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She feared the tongue of another neighbour carrying yet another tale of her waywardness to Mama J. But when he saw her, he smiled and beckoned.
It turned out he managed the outlet.
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It turned out he managed the outlet.
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Plump and already too tall for her age, she felt silly in her white school shirt and chequered pink pinafore as he showed her and her friend round as if they were important dignitaries visiting a factory.
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Afterwards, he gave them more ice cream than they could eat and they didn’t have to pay. Then he gave her friend transport fare to go home, saying he would drive Josephine home since they were neighbours.
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Yet, a while later, Josephine ended up going home alone after Mr. Maxwell gave her more money than she needed for the fare home.
Thereafter, every Friday during the school term, she would, as they said in those days, ‘dislink’ her friend in favour of more free ice cream,
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Thereafter, every Friday during the school term, she would, as they said in those days, ‘dislink’ her friend in favour of more free ice cream,
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and the nice smell of the inside of Mr. Maxwell’s tight but cool office.
He’d never been anything but sweet to her. So sweet that she’d come up with a little rhyme that she teased him with whenever they were alone.
Mr. Maxwell, Mr. Maxwell,
Can you help me wax well?
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He’d never been anything but sweet to her. So sweet that she’d come up with a little rhyme that she teased him with whenever they were alone.
Mr. Maxwell, Mr. Maxwell,
Can you help me wax well?
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She’d often wanted to ask her mother, What wicked man? Now she said, “Mama J, stop blaming Joe-Boy’s mistakes on that day. He’s an adult now.”
Mama J pursed her lips and glared down at Josephine.
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Mama J pursed her lips and glared down at Josephine.
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She turned away to make herself a cup of tea and said to Joe-Boy, “Don’t worry, my son, we’ll go to deliverance service.”
Josephine surveyed the ceiling and threw up her hands at the same time.
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Josephine surveyed the ceiling and threw up her hands at the same time.
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Mama J had been taking Joe-Boy to all sorts of deliverance services over the years and didn’t want to see they were never going to deliver him from anything.
“He drank again last night. My jewellery set is missing and now he’s talking of being a kleptomaniac? Come on!”
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“He drank again last night. My jewellery set is missing and now he’s talking of being a kleptomaniac? Come on!”
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Mama J ignored Josephine, got her tea and walked out regally in a way only someone with her height and girth could.
Joe-Boy, who’d looked like a lost sheep the entire time Mama J had been in the kitchen, now gave Josephine a lottery winner’s grin.
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Joe-Boy, who’d looked like a lost sheep the entire time Mama J had been in the kitchen, now gave Josephine a lottery winner’s grin.
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She hissed at him and marched after Mama J in the corridor.
“You’re too-too hard on him.” Mama J stirred her tea.
“You’re setting him up for major trouble by always making excuses for him.”
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“You’re too-too hard on him.” Mama J stirred her tea.
“You’re setting him up for major trouble by always making excuses for him.”
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“You’re the one who’ll get him in trouble with your attitude.” Mama J headed for her room.
Josephine shadowed her. “What attitude?” She lowered her tone. “I know you raised him but I’m his—”
Mama J swung around, her right palm an instant stop sign in Josephine’s face.
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Josephine shadowed her. “What attitude?” She lowered her tone. “I know you raised him but I’m his—”
Mama J swung around, her right palm an instant stop sign in Josephine’s face.
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Josephine swallowed. “I mean well for him.”
“Use your tongue and count your teeth. I meant well for your father too. Look how that turned out.”
Josephine paused, exhaled. She knew how well Mama J loved pushing the family history buttons.
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“Use your tongue and count your teeth. I meant well for your father too. Look how that turned out.”
Josephine paused, exhaled. She knew how well Mama J loved pushing the family history buttons.
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“You can’t use Papa to justify the way you’re spoiling Joe-Boy.”
“I’m not spoiling him. He’s just a boy.”
“That boy will soon be 21. As a teacher, doesn’t it bother you that he still hasn’t passed his WAEC when many of his mates are already on their way to getting degrees?”
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“I’m not spoiling him. He’s just a boy.”
“That boy will soon be 21. As a teacher, doesn’t it bother you that he still hasn’t passed his WAEC when many of his mates are already on their way to getting degrees?”
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Mama J gave Josephine a pitiful look. “Show me your hands.”
“What?” Josephine looked askance at her mother.
“Let me see your hands.”
Josephine held out her hands. Mama J grabbed them.
“Show me which two fingers here are the same.”
“Come on, Mama J.”
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“What?” Josephine looked askance at her mother.
“Let me see your hands.”
Josephine held out her hands. Mama J grabbed them.
“Show me which two fingers here are the same.”
“Come on, Mama J.”
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Mama J dropped Josephine’s hands and tapped her daughter's head. “You have all this height but you might as well be a stilt walker putting on a show. Leave Joe-Boy alone. He’s my son, not yours. If you want to raise sons as if they’re soldiers, get married and bear your own.”
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Tears stung Josephine’s eyes. She hurried to her room and dressed without thought, knowing that whatever she wore, she’d cover it up with an apron once she got to work.
She wondered why she stayed. Mama J no longer wanted her in the house—even the wall geckos could tell.
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She wondered why she stayed. Mama J no longer wanted her in the house—even the wall geckos could tell.
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Besides, these frequent battles with Mama J always left her feeling drained, spent. Yet no matter how often Mama J ridiculed and humiliated her, she seemed incapable of leaving.
Did she dread cutting some unseen umbilical cord? Or did she have a masochistic streak?
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Did she dread cutting some unseen umbilical cord? Or did she have a masochistic streak?
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Her face contorted to something vicious. Let Mama J keep abasing her. It would only further sweeten the taste of revenge which she knew would come someday.
In the meantime, if her presence in the house caused Mama J any pain, well, her mother more than deserved it.
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In the meantime, if her presence in the house caused Mama J any pain, well, her mother more than deserved it.
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However anybody looked at it, she had as much right as Mama J to live in the house, if not more so. She paid the bigger chunk of the bills.
Joe-Boy didn’t contribute a naira although she’d turned herself to a beggar to get him a job as a daytime guard at an office building.
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Joe-Boy didn’t contribute a naira although she’d turned herself to a beggar to get him a job as a daytime guard at an office building.
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She’d hoped with her tolerant but resolute support, he would study nights and make his way to university. But with Mama J’s attitude, she now realised she’d poured rice into a sack with a hole.
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She grabbed her bag. They’d buried one family member already over Joe-Boy. It didn’t make sense to give her life too.
Did the mammy water in the print just wink at her? Josephine thought she had and didn’t know whether to wink back as she left her room.
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Did the mammy water in the print just wink at her? Josephine thought she had and didn’t know whether to wink back as she left her room.
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She liked the mermaid, not least of all because the exotic creature had the wasp-like waist she had long craved. But what did the wink mean?
In the living room she ran into Joe-Boy.
“Why are you carrying such a heavy bag to work?”
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In the living room she ran into Joe-Boy.
“Why are you carrying such a heavy bag to work?”
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Joe-Boy mock-slapped his head. “Ah, I forgot this is Gestapo Headquarters.”
She sneered. “What’s in there?”
“My kit. Football practice after work.”
She looked hard at him. He faked a smile.
“There’s nothing here o. See?” He shook the bag. Something metallic jangled.
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She sneered. “What’s in there?”
“My kit. Football practice after work.”
She looked hard at him. He faked a smile.
“There’s nothing here o. See?” He shook the bag. Something metallic jangled.
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Josephine flung her own bag on a chair, crossed her arms over her chest.
“Open it.”
“I won’t.”
“I said open that bag now.”
“I said I won’t. Do your worst.”
“What is it?” Mama J tore into the living room.
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“Open it.”
“I won’t.”
“I said open that bag now.”
“I said I won’t. Do your worst.”
“What is it?” Mama J tore into the living room.
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“Two children only! Two bloody children and yet no peace in my house when those who have four, five, and even more are living in bliss!”
Josephine resisted the impulse to tell Mama J that nothing she’d said resembled the truth. “Joe-Boy has something in his bag,” she said.
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Josephine resisted the impulse to tell Mama J that nothing she’d said resembled the truth. “Joe-Boy has something in his bag,” she said.
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Mama J snatched the bag from him and opened it. Two trophies glistened in the bag alongside a big old-school gold necklace.
“Joe-Boy!” Mama J and Josephine chorused.
“My precious necklace!”
“My trophies!”
“If you can’t respect me, Joe-Boy, why can’t you respect the memory
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“Joe-Boy!” Mama J and Josephine chorused.
“My precious necklace!”
“My trophies!”
“If you can’t respect me, Joe-Boy, why can’t you respect the memory
66
of your late father who gave me this necklace?”
“Joe-Boy, you took my jewellery set, didn’t you?”
“I said I did not!”
“You know the trophies aren’t worth much money, so obviously you’re taking them just to hurt me. Why?”
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“Joe-Boy, you took my jewellery set, didn’t you?”
“I said I did not!”
“You know the trophies aren’t worth much money, so obviously you’re taking them just to hurt me. Why?”
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“Joe-Boy, I know that wicked man did something to you that day, but you don’t have to let yourself become a willing tool in the hands of the devil.”
“You can’t help him by always blaming Mr. Maxwell. How many times would I—”
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“You can’t help him by always blaming Mr. Maxwell. How many times would I—”
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“Let me hear something, abeg, you that have never done a single wrong in your life. I keep wondering whether you sent your head on holiday somewhere. Is it not age that made you as mature as you are? You said it yourself, your trophies are worthless.
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So why is he taking them if he’s not under an evil spell by that wicked man?”
“I didn’t say my trophies are worthless. They’re not. They represent much more than monetary value or the championships I’ve won. They’re symbols of—”
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“I didn’t say my trophies are worthless. They’re not. They represent much more than monetary value or the championships I’ve won. They’re symbols of—”
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“Of what? Your saintliness? Look here, my daughter, come back to earth. These things are worthless. If they were made of precious metals, I would say melt them down and at least make bangles or some other useful things.”
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“Mama J, if that’s a joke, it’s a bad one. What Joe-Boy has become is too serious for you to make jokes.”
Josephine picked up her trophies, shoved them into her bag and marched off to work.
*
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Josephine picked up her trophies, shoved them into her bag and marched off to work.
*
72
The quarrel over the trophies convinced Josephine her family had entered an irredeemable state. Not that she hadn’t seen and heard the clues long before then.
She’d been twelve when she overheard Daddy and Mama J.
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She’d been twelve when she overheard Daddy and Mama J.
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“We’ve not”—a heavy sigh—“since the accident.”
Mama J sighed too, hers even heavier than Daddy J’s.
“How can you be pregnant?”
“Because I am.”
“But we’ve not done it for months. Have you—?”
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Mama J sighed too, hers even heavier than Daddy J’s.
“How can you be pregnant?”
“Because I am.”
“But we’ve not done it for months. Have you—?”
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“You’re drunk.”
“You must have because we didn’t—”
“We did!”
“When? Tell me when?”
“The very first night you came home drunk!”
“I don’t remember!”
“How can you? You were drunk!”
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“You must have because we didn’t—”
“We did!”
“When? Tell me when?”
“The very first night you came home drunk!”
“I don’t remember!”
“How can you? You were drunk!”
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At 12, Josephine, like some of the other girls in her neighbourhood, not only knew what ‘it’ meant, she’d even done ‘it’ too, although she had no way of knowing doing ‘it’ could get her pregnant when she hadn’t yet started seeing the monthly blood Mama J had warned her about.
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As Mama J’s stomach grew bigger and Daddy J drank more, Josephine cried to sleep on many nights when her mother would beat up her drunken father for trying to hit her in the stomach.
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In their living room hung a framed picture of Mama J and Daddy J standing awkwardly together, smiling as if someone wielding a gun off-camera had directed the photo shoot.
Josephine always considered the picture incredibly incongruous.
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Josephine always considered the picture incredibly incongruous.
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She did not remember ever seeing Mama J and Daddy J smiling together, and she imagined the two would rather curse and fight instead of obey any unarmed person who ordered them to smile together.
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In the picture they looked like stage actors exaggerating the actions of their characters for comic effect, and their exasperation at the audience for failing to get the performance showed through.
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Josephine often wondered if her reading of the picture had missed the mark and Mama J and Daddy J actually had a time in their lives when they hadn’t hated each other or fought every night.
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Then one night, the strangest thing she’d ever heard up till then—the sound of Mama J crying—woke her up.
She crept to her parents’ room and saw Mama J propped against the wall, her clothes torn, smears of blood all around her.
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She crept to her parents’ room and saw Mama J propped against the wall, her clothes torn, smears of blood all around her.
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A badly scratched Daddy J also sat on the floor, away from Mama J, panting and battered yet triumphant as if he’d been in a long race he’d narrowly won.
Josephine entered the room. Mama J took one look at her chubby daughter in her light nightgown and started bawling afresh.
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Josephine entered the room. Mama J took one look at her chubby daughter in her light nightgown and started bawling afresh.
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Daddy J also looked at Josephine and immediately became strong enough to cry too. Naturally, Josephine also began crying.
Mama J and Josephine snuck out of their house before dawn the next day.
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Mama J and Josephine snuck out of their house before dawn the next day.
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They stayed with a teacher friend of Mama J’s in a village near the Nigeria/Benin border until Josephine gave birth to Joe-Boy.
When they returned home, Mama J showed off her new-born to neighbours and praised her daughter for giving up school to help through the difficult
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When they returned home, Mama J showed off her new-born to neighbours and praised her daughter for giving up school to help through the difficult
85
stages of the pregnancy.
Daddy J, still unable to find anything worth living for except beer, died four months later.
In time, Josephine resumed her Friday routine until she left secondary school at seventeen.
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Daddy J, still unable to find anything worth living for except beer, died four months later.
In time, Josephine resumed her Friday routine until she left secondary school at seventeen.
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After being admitted into the University of Lagos, she saw Mr. Maxwell whenever she liked. And then he disappeared just a few weeks before her nineteenth birthday.
*
End of excerpt.
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*
End of excerpt.
87/87
Okay, good people. Remember that excerpt I promised you, but I had to postpone because we were all going through a lot in October?
That's it up there.
Yes, it's a thread of 87 tweets. I warned you it was a long one, didn't I?
Anyway, I know you'll all be nice.
That's it up there.
Yes, it's a thread of 87 tweets. I warned you it was a long one, didn't I?
Anyway, I know you'll all be nice.
@ahnittta_
@iamayomipo
@mz_lodie
@KellyK3ls
@Midespecial1
@Alajeseku1
@Aishaaababy
@shewriteorrun
@john_otu
@don_udo
@EnsieEssien
@d_wildflower
@thekelechiamadi
@NkayOkeke
@Sanematic
@DiscreetSucces
@LilyVJohnson
@ogunstbest
@Otunba_Lanre1
@Odusolar
@Owoche_
@mI_kul
@Ncix6
@iamayomipo
@mz_lodie
@KellyK3ls
@Midespecial1
@Alajeseku1
@Aishaaababy
@shewriteorrun
@john_otu
@don_udo
@EnsieEssien
@d_wildflower
@thekelechiamadi
@NkayOkeke
@Sanematic
@DiscreetSucces
@LilyVJohnson
@ogunstbest
@Otunba_Lanre1
@Odusolar
@Owoche_
@mI_kul
@Ncix6
@scents_of_may
@knouvelle_
@knouvelle_
Now that I've done it, let me be the first to drag myself: why the hell would I come on Jack's platform and do a thread of 87 tweets?! 
Don't I know where to go a post a long blog?
Anyway, any brave soul that reads it all should help others by summarizing it, abeg.
Don't I know where to go a post a long blog?
Anyway, any brave soul that reads it all should help others by summarizing it, abeg.
