A Slice Of Heaven – 29

Saz had needed Anya’s help to make the arrangements to see Okey in school. If the boy ever was left to go to school early, he would have had the chance to talk with him when he dropped him off.

All that would change when he took over his care, Saz told himself, putting aside the annoyance he carried around when he thought of the boy’s situation. It wouldn’t do for the boy to think he was angry with him.

Or that he was nervous, he thought, consciously fighting off the sudden edgy feeling at the realisation that he had no experience with children. And didn’t quite know how to deal with this one.

How did one begin to talk to a child he was hoping to save from a bad situation?

What should he say first? Saz wondered, and asked himself, for what he was sure was more than the tenth time, if he was doing the right thing.

Could he look after a nine year old boy and bring him up as he should be brought up?

He didn’t have the answer to that question yet, but he had one answer, which was that he wasn’t going to let the boy go through his childhood and teenage years treated no better than a slave.

“I want us to talk about something important, Okey.” That sounded as good an opening as any.

“Okay, Uncle Saz.” Okey, with his oddly mature eyes, gave a nod.

“First of all, I know you told me while I was dropping you off. But no one touched again since Saturday, right?”

Okey shook his head. “Nobody touched me. Although Aunty scolded me a lot, but she didn’t beat me.”

“Good. And you’re feeling all better now? No body pains from that beating?”

“Yes, Uncle Saz. I’m feeling fine.”

“I’m glad you are, Okey. I want you to always feel good. Well, you probably won’t always feel good in life, but I don’t want you to suffer beatings like you did on Saturday, or any other form of maltreatment.”

Okey nodded, said nothing and just stared at him.

With so much trust, Saz thought. And affection, he noted, his heart clutching. “I know you heard what I said to your uncle that day, that I will take you away from him.”

“Aunty said you didn’t mean it. That you were just talking, so it looks like you care about me.”

“I not only care about you, Okey. I care for you.” He did, Saz realised. He had real affection for the boy apart from caring about his wellbeing. “And I meant what I said that day, I want to take you away from that house.”

“Okay.”

As that response didn’t say much, Saz prodded, “Would you like to leave the house? To leave your uncle, aunt and cousins?”

Okey stared at him. There was hope fluttering in his heart. It had been beating there since Saturday morning when Uncle Saz said in a really grown-up voice that he would take him away from Uncle Iloba. The hope hadn’t disappeared even when Aunty had said Uncle Saz had been talking, for talking sake.

“Yes, I want to leave them. I know they are my uncle, and aunty, and cousins, but…” Okey tried to stop it, but his eyes watered, and his mouth trembled slightly. “I don’t like the way they treat me. I don’t mind doing all the work Aunty asks me to do, but it is the way they abuse me, especially Aunty, that pains me.”

Wiping his eyes, because he really shouldn’t be crying now, Okey asked, “Are you really going to take me away from there?”

“Yes, I mean to do it.”

“And I will come to live with you, in your house?”

“Yes,” Saz confirmed again. Then he asked, in a gentle voice, “Would you like to live with me?”

Okey thought about it. But only for a few seconds, because he had been thinking about it since Saturday. He had even prayed about, although he wasn’t sure what God wanted him to do, since he didn’t know how one received answers to their prayers.

But he was sure he wanted to leave the house where he’d never been happy. And was sure he liked Uncle Saz, and that Uncle Saz didn’t seem to like when children were being treated badly. Which was something he really wanted, not to be treated badly again.

“Yes, I would like to live with you,” he said, and smiled because he wanted to show that would make him happy. “When can I come to live with you?”

“As soon as I settle the matter with our families.” Relieved, and satisfied with the boy’s answer, Saz smiled too. “But we need to be patient, as I’m sure it won’t happen as quickly as we both want it to.”

“But it will happen, right?”

Saz looked into the eyes that were suddenly very much those of a child and demanded reassurance. “It definitely will happen, Okey.”

“Thank you, Uncle Saz.” Okey threw his small body against Saz’s, hugging him. “I can’t wait to live with you.”

“I can’t wait, either.”

And Saz found that to be the truth. However worrying were his uncertainties, he couldn’t wait to give the boy this bit of happiness.

---

Charged up with an eager desire to do this, he went straight from the school to Maxwell Isichei’s house, praying he would be able to convince him to intervene in the matter.

“I’ve come to speak to your father about Okey’s issue,” he confided in Uchenna as they made their way to the family room. “I really I’m certain I should take over the boy’s care.”

“You’re doing the right thing for Okey, and I hope Papa sees that, and supports your intention,” Uchenna said.

“I’m hoping he will, too.”

“We’ll keep our fingers crossed,” Uchenna said with an encouraging smile. “Just have a seat, while I go get Papa.”

It took only about two minutes for her to return, and in the company of her father. “Should I get you a drink, Brother Saz?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

“In that case, I’ll see you later. I do have an errand to run for Mama,” she said, and with her usual smile, disappeared down the stairs.

Saz stood to offer his greetings to his uncle, and sat again only after he did. “I’m grateful you can see me this morning, sir.”

Maxwell Isichei gave a nod. “As you called on Saturday, I figured you must have an important issue to discuss.”

“I do, sir, and it’s about the child staying with Iloba Nwadialor.”

“His late sister’s son, you mean? What about the child?”

Since he knew Maxwell Isichei was not entirely ignorant of the issue, Saz kept to the salient details, and in particular the events of last Saturday.

“If Anya and I hadn’t been there to stop him, there’s no telling what damage he would have done to the boy,” he finished.

“Anya?” With a frown on his face, Maxwell Isichei asked, “Would you be referring to late Victor Akalue’s wife, the one who owns the pastry shop opposite the mega filling station?”

“Yes, she’s the one I mean.” As he had no intention of discussing Anya with his uncle, Saz returned the subject to what was important. “The boy’s just nine, overworked, physically, as well as verbally abused. He shouldn’t be treated this way.”

“Maybe he shouldn’t be, but Iloba Nwadialor is his uncle and the one responsible for him. There’s very little anyone can do to change the situation, except maybe offer advice.” Maxwell Isichei paused, and gave a shrug. “And even there, one has to be careful not to overstep their boundary.”

“He’s a child who’s being maltreated by his uncle and his family. There’s no overstepping one’s boundary when it comes to speaking up for him.”

“There is, Saz. The child is Iloba’s nephew, he’s been under his care almost from birth, so he’s actually considered Iloba’s son. And there’s only how far you can go to tell a parent how to bring up his child.”

“When a child is being maltreated, even by his parents, we, as adults, have the responsibility to intervene. We just can’t look the other way, and pretend we do not see the abuse going on.”

The frown returned to Maxwell Isichei’s face. But his tone remained calm and patient when he spoke, “Children get flogged by their parents. I disciplined my own children while they were growing up. Would you say then that I was abusing them?”

“I know very well you never flogged them in the manner I witnessed Iloba doing to that child on Saturday,” Saz said calmly, although his temper threatened to snap. “Okey is not loved or welcomed in that home. He’s not wanted there. He’s considered a burden…”

“You cannot know this, as I’m sure Iloba Nwadialor would not tell you he considers his nephew a burden.”

“I don’t need Iloba Nwadialor to tell me what I have seen for myself.” It took all his self-control not to hiss out the words. “Besides, I have spoken to the boy, and this is something he’s regularly told. That he’s a burden.

“He might be Iloba’s nephew, but he’s our relative too, sir. We have a responsibility to look out for him, and be certain he’s actually being cared for wherever he is.”

“He’s a relative, yes. But he belongs to the Nwadialor family, and I do not need to tell you there is a level of distance between the Nwadialor family and Isichei family,” Maxwell Isichei said. “We tend to not interfere with one another.”

“I know all of that. But I have seen this boy being maltreated, and I refuse to pretend like I saw nothing. He’s a part of my family, and I intend to do what I can for him.”

“What do you intend to do for him, have me invite Iloba and speak to him?”

There was a faint sneer behind the words. But Saz wasn’t touched by it. “No, I have spoken to Iloba myself and told him my intention. I am here to speak of that intention to you, and to request your support.”

“And what is your intention?”

“I want to take the boy. I want to become his guardian. His parent.”

Maxwell Isichei stared at him a full thirty seconds. Then he snorted out a laugh. “Is this supposed to be an attempt at humour, Saz?”

“No, it’s not, sir. I am very serious. I want to take over the boy’s upbringing. I’m a member of the family, and the child can come to me.”

“You belong to the other side of the family.”

“It makes no difference. We’re all still one family. I recall Cousin Norbert, who’s an Isichei, grew up in the home of Okolie Nwadialor. And that is just one instance, I am certain there are others.”

“There are, no doubt. But you don’t want to do this, Saz.”

“I do…”

“Let me finish,” Maxwell Isichei interrupted. “You think you want to do this, but you have absolutely no idea how much looking after a child costs. And I don’t simply mean financially. You are a man without a wife, what do you know of what an eight year old boy needs?”

“The boy’s nine. And frankly, I know nothing about what a child needs. But what parent knows everything before they have a child?” He countered, using Anya’s argument. “Parents learn as they go, and I intend to do the same. For now, what is important is that I mean well for the boy, and intend to treat him well.”

“Good intentions do not suffice to bring up a child. This I can tell you,” Maxwell Isichei said. “You’re a single man, who’s still trying to find his feet again, and the last thing you need is a child depending on you financially, emotionally, and in every other way.”

“I understand this won’t…”

“I am not done,” Maxwell Isichei once again cut him off. “You came here with the sole purpose to sell off your father’s business and reopen yours in Benin. I will counsel you to focus on that, and make a success of that plan first before thinking you have what it takes to take on a nine year old boy. Take care of your own affairs first before interfering in this matter.”

“I will take care of my own affairs, sir. I will do it, make no mistake about that. But I want this boy; I want to give him something he’s never had–a home where he is welcome. All I’m asking of you is to support my intention. Nothing more but this.”

“When it comes to whatever you intend to do about your father’s business, or his house, I have given, and will always give you my support. But in this,” Maxwell Isichei shook his head. “You are on your own. I have no wish to interfere, and will not do so.”

“He’s a boy suffering physical, mental and emotional abuse in his uncle’s home, Uncle.”

“He’s a boy living in his uncle’s home, Saz. He’s Iloba’s nephew, and the Nwadialor family’s responsibility. I am not going to call meeting to tell them they are not performing their duties as they should.”

“How about call a meeting to support my desire to take over the care of a boy who’s both our relative?”

Maxwell Isichei let out a sigh. “Let this matter go, Saz. You are only here for a while, and this should not be your business. It is not your business. It certainly is not mine. I have lived my life not interfering in other people’s business, and I won’t start now in my old age.”

“So you have,” Saz said quietly, unable to stop the note of disappointment in his voice. “But like I told Iloba Nwadialor, I have made Okey my business, and I will do everything I can to protect him from further harm. Since you refuse to do anything, could you please tell me who to meet to call a meeting of both families?”

There was a short silence before Maxwell Isichei sighed and said, “Go to Nnamdi Nwadialor. He is Iloba’s uncle and head of their family, speak to him.”

“Thank you for that, and for seeing me,” Saz said, and stood to leave.

“Saz, think this through before you take the next step. You don’t want to take a bite and find it’s more than you can chew.”

“Believe me, sir, I have thought about this, and I want to do this.”

“As you wish. But let me offer you an advice on another matter. Be careful of your relationship with Anyabuwa Akalue. I don’t know if you have one actually, but she’s a woman whose husband died mysteriously, and barely a year after their marriage. You don’t want to have anything serious to do with such a woman.”

“Her husband died of leukaemia, a disease his family knew he suffered from. Contrary to the way you people think here, a husband can die of something other than his wife’s infidelity. That is, if that actually has the power to kill him.”

“You’re in no place to teach me about the rights and wrongs of our people’s beliefs, Saz,” Maxwell Isichei said in a mildly chiding tone. “I only advise you to be careful with that woman, for whatever might have been recorded as the cause of his death on paper, he still died in a way that raised suspicion.”

“Raised suspicion only in the minds of those who knew very little about the matter,” Saz clarified. “Thank you for your advice, sir. But you do not interfere in people’s business, and I am man enough to handle my personal business, so you need not worry yourself over this.”

He paused, and then dipped his head. “Thank you again for seeing me, sir. I will take my leave.”

He didn’t expect another word from the old man, and was relieved he didn’t get any. But Saz was furious as he got back in his van, furious enough to punch his fist into the steering wheel.

He should have known better than to expect a man who hadn’t interfered when his nephew was being maltreated to do so now. He hadn’t done anything for Saz when he was a boy, and he wouldn’t do anything for Okey either.

Self-centred old fart, Saz cursed him. And he dared speak off Anya, as if he could hold a light to her.

Muttering a slew of curses, Saz swung the van back in the street, and zoomed in the direction where he recalled Nnamdi Nwadialor lived.