Q is for Question

Ibadan 1963

“If you do not pass this test you will be asked to leave the course.” Grace watched his scrawny moustache moving with every word. Of course, she already knew that Statistics I was a requisite for her course, that’s why she had spent so much time trying to pass it. She clearly hadn’t tried hard enough. 

The library, an unbearable labyrinth, was a swamp. It was a monsoon of students, sweat and stress, her least favourite place. She had to go there to find him. “E ma sare lo!” Kofo’s voice was not enough to slow her down. 

If she could find him, then he would have to help her and she would pass. Simple. Her mother had worked too hard to get her onto the agricultural studies course and she couldn’t let her down. “Aren’t you going to check the class rank?”

She shook her head. Moses ranked top every single test. There was no need to check, that would have been an insult to his intelligence. The campus wasn’t nearly as full as normal. It was filled with polar opposites at this time of year, those who were back for resits and those who were there to study early for the next semester. Everyone else had dissipated across Ibadan to enjoy their summer. 

Grace brushed her baby hairs up. Moses was part of the later group, a stellar student. He corrected the professors on a semi-regular basis and had been offered a teaching job, even with a year left from graduation. He wore thick framed glasses that were dark brown, not like his ebony skin but like the skin of yam.

“Ow.”

The shushing of the librarian wasn’t shrewd enough to slice through the pain. “E pele o.” Grace’s toe throbbed, she wished the old wooden bookshelf would be in as much pain as she was. 

The library was quaint, it wasn’t part of the new building that was wrapped up in 1958, it was part of the original, skeletal campus. Outside was stained red-brown from the dust, neat bushes squished together at its corners and there were always at least three steel bikes unceremoniously stacked by the entrance at all times. Inside, it was a dimly lit space with rows of bookcases, overfilled with textbooks. The uniformity of the rows reminded Grace of her shuku braids, neat rows meeting at the crown of her head. The tables were too high for her; this was no fault of the architects and all the fault of her less than average height. 

In the nook by the largest window, was Moses, his slim frame hunched over a book. Grace studied him. Outside he was suave and charming. His teeth were whiter than iyan and his lips were pink like watermelon. He had a string of girls at his beck and call, Grace suspected he was ‘chopping from more than one pot’ and had rolled her eyes at the mention of his name. 

Now that her remaining in school depended on his grace, she had to push all that to the side.

In her head she strolled, in fact she glided over to reach him. In all actuality, her walk had the rumour of a limp trickling behind it. “Are you ok?” Moses whispered. He dragged a chair out for her to sit. “I stumped my toe, it’s ok now.” He pressed his lips into a line.

“Why are you here?” 

“To study.”

“To study?”

“That’s what I said.”

He wanted to focus on calculus. Instead he focused on the apples of her cheeks and the high arch of her brows, that counted as maths if he considered them parabolas. Her skin was even toned and smooth. Her thin lips were like wire stuck in place. He wanted to ply and bend them into anything other than her perpetual grimace. 

“Grace.”

“Moses.”

“Ki le fe?”

“Ko mi isiro.”

“You failed math?”

Silence. It wasn’t as heavy as the humidity of the room but it was close enough. Moses took the time to look at her more closely. They passed each other around campus and took some of the same classes; that was all from a distance. Up close he could see the way her arms were sculpted like clay from carrying her mother’s pap to sell at the market. Even with the slight weight gain from starting university that made her cheeks swell like puffpuff, her muscles were remarkable. Her hair was subtly coloured, a shade of golden blonde which he only saw when it peaked out from under the intricate head scarves she tied most days. 

“Ejo, teach me.”

“Why.”

“For the reward of it.”

“I can get rewards from anybody.”

Grace puffed out her breath. Moses didn’t seem disagreeable; she had never spent any time with him. Other  than his reputation (both academically and with the ladies on campus), she didn’t know much about him. She knew his nose was wide and flat and inviting and that his eyes kissed at the corner when he smiled because Kofo didn’t stop raving about him. Kofo wasn’t officially part of his harem but she was definitely a proud member of his fan group. Amongst the vivid descriptions of him, Kofo had not once suggested stubbornness or unwillingness to help.

“ Moses, please.”

“On one condition.” 

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Go on a date with me.”

Grace frowned. She should have trusted her better judgement. So many professors wanted favours in exchange for tutoring. As a man, how was Moses to be any different? She should have left there and then. If God wanted her to reach her dreams, she would pass regardless. Plus, there were several ways to make the Ibadan board of agriculture… right?

“Grace, did you hear me?”

“I did.”

“You did?”

“I don’t know what you’ve made other girls do for your help but I won’t-”

“Just a date Grace. Just one.”

Grace chewed her bottom lip. Statistics I was not a difficult class. Everyone took it as a throwaway class to boost their grades. Surely she could pass it.

“Why?”

“Why a date?”

“I would like to know my student better before teaching her.”

“What do you want to know about me?”

Moses looked down at the textbook. He had to check the words weren’t rushing off the page. They weren’t. He was still rooted in reality, a reality where Grace Titilayo Ariyibi would even give him a second look.

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

As she looked up, considering his question, the tips of her clavicles were exposed. Her skin stretched over the bone like canvas stretched over an easel, she was a work of art. “I have a lot of siblings. My mother sells pap. I live with Kofo.”

Moses shook his head. 

“I don’t mean surface level things that I can get if I ask around. I mean the frustum, the things only you can tell me.”

Grace chewed her bottom lip. The wahala he was putting her through, just for maths help was a lot. “I love agriculture, my grandmother lives near a farm and I would watch them work when she would braid my hair.” Grace brushed her baby hairs up. “She told me the rows in my hair were like rows in the earth. Eventually if I followed them, I would get to the same destination but the route would not be the same.”

Moses’ eyes kissed at the corner as he listened. Maybe Kofo was right. “She often spoke in riddles and told me things I don’t really understand, even today. But her love for the earth and the plants is why I am studying agric.”

“Not just because you want to be on the state board?”

“Exactly, that job just means I can support my mother but really all I want is my own farm where I can look after my mother and me.”

She didn’t smile; her wiry lips unwound a little from the tight grimace. “Is that enough?”

“Wow. So you only told me that so I would agree to teach you?”

“Yes. I need to pass.”

“I still want a date.”

“If you teach me and I pass, I will go on a date with you.”

“Why so cold Grace? You didn’t even ask me why I’m here or what I want.”

“Because I don’t need to.” Grace clenched her jaw. “You are doing maths here because you want to do finance with all the big boys and travel and have many women.”

“That is not-.”

“And you will lie and cheat. And you will hurt the woman you love the most, you’ll abandon her and her children till you are on your deathbed and not even your naira can save you.”

“Harsh from someone who is going to die alone.”

“That’s what I want. Just me and my mother and grandmother. I don’t need anyone else.”  

“You don’t need anyone else but you need me to tutor you so you don’t get kicked out.”

Grace smoothed her top. Even the stiff ankara fabric was melting in the library humidity. Between when she had entered, been violated by a shelf and sat down with Moses, the room had emptied. The half tucked in chairs were unwelcoming and open textbooks were scattered over the table tops like seeds. 

Grace knew she didn’t belong in the library. 

“Look, if you won’t teach me, that is fine but don’t make a joke or a quest out of me to your boys.”

“You’re not a joke or a quest, Grace. It was just a question.”

“My question remains. Will you teach me or not?”

“As does my question, will you go out with me or not?”

“Fine. But only if I pass.”

“No, let’s go now.”

Moses grabbed Grace’s hand. It was warm. Not in the sticky way the library was warm. In the way a fresh bowl of soup was warm and refreshing. Grace was refreshing. She wasn’t obsessed with him or constantly trying to be with him. She was with Kofo or by herself. And not in her own little world, daydreaming into the distance. She was planted in this world, this reality and she was just fine being alone. He envied her aloneness. He rarely got any solitude and when he did, he hated it. The hollowness of it all. No one to talk to. No one to be with. What he wanted the most was unenjoyable because of his fear of being alone. In a house full of siblings, his only alone time was when he was banished to the ‘punishment room’, the walls offered him no comfort there. It wasn’t just the isolation, it was the silence, no squealing babies or shrieking goats, only nothingness.

“Moses, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“E ma se bi ele.”

“I will do as I please.”

Grace watched the back of his head, he stole glances at her to see if she was ok. With each turn, she saw a new detail. The angles of his jaw, the curves of his shoulder, the more she saw of him, the more she understood Kofo and the harem. 

“Are you going to run if I let go.”

“Don’t let me go Moses.”

The air felt electric. Anything was better than the dank library but Grace felt chills from the fresh air rushing through her lungs as Moses pulled her somewhere. The air outside even tasted better. Even with the mix of smells like frying plantain from the food stand, the air smelled fresh and new. 

“Here we are.”

“This is strange. Why here?”

“Why should I integrate and blur into the background when I can differentiate from the rest?”

“Was that a maths joke?”

“See, you’re a smart girl, you spotted my maths.”

“I am smart, I just struggle with maths.”

Moses nodded.

The botanical gardens. A lush green expanse, bordered by tangled rows of shrubs and grey-green rocks. The greens seemed deeper than anywhere else on campus. From the wide flat banana leaves to the tongues of aloe vera bursting through the soil, Grace loved it. Moses placed his hand on her shoulder, leading her towards a gazebo. Its roof was stunning, dark grey perforated steel that resembled the banana leaves around it. Water stains from rainy season wrapped around its cement base like a scarf. Inside, there was shelter from the blistering heat of the day but it was ventilated enough by the breeze so it wasn’t stuffy like the library.

“Do you come here often?”

“When I need a break, yes.”

Grace nodded. She just wanted to pass statistics, not go on some pseudo-date with Moses.

“Kofo will worry soon.”

“She saw us, she’ll be fine.”

“People will talk.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“I just want to pass.”

“Rest, for just a moment. We’ll start classes later.”

Grace smiled, dropping her shoulders. Her headscarf had fallen in the rush and Moses could see her full shuku braids. It suited her. The way the stars suit the night and the clouds suit the day. Her spine remained taut, upright like poles holding up the gazebo.

Moses sighed. All it took to untwist her wiry grimace was to agree to teach her. 

He turned to look out at the vast botanical gardens. “Ok, now you teach me. Tell me about botany.”

“I study agric.”

“Tell me about agric then.”

“I thought you wanted to know about me?”

Moses ran his palms over his head, he took in the smell of the plants and counted slowly in his head. His summer plans were to get ahead and read up on all his classes, to work in a bank and visit his friends in Lagos. His summer plans had not included having his patience tested by Grace Titilayo Ariyibi. He pressed his fingers to his temple, one by one. 

“Ok then Grace, tell me more about you.”

“And you’ll definitely teach me?”

“Yes. You will pass and you will graduate.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

THE END