The List

Ok, so this is a piece I wrote a while ago in remembrance of my Aunt. She was my guardian throughout secondary school and was fondly called Aunty Bundle! I credit my love of books, research, and curiosity to learn and improve to her. I still can't help laughing at how boarding school in Nigeria was back then. It's still such a poignant piece and I keep learning from it each time I read it. I hope you will too! 

It was the end of mid-term break and I was ready to take back lots of wonderful goodies to boarding school as was the norm, at least before now.

I stood slightly behind the chair in which she sat, her huge and imposing structure well contained in her favourite chair. It was the one just by the front door with a view of the balcony full of beautiful greens and the road just beyond that. I stood to her left wondering what I was doing there and why my box of provisions wasn’t already packed and ready for me to leave in a few days. She held in her hand what appeared to be my provisions list and I was still perplexed as to the reason for my presence. Then it began:

“What is this here, Kellogs cornflakes?” she asked. “Yes Aunty” I replied, that’s what I drink and it’s the one Mummy buys for me.” “Mmmmmm, so what is wrong with Nasco?” I stared at her in horror at the thought of drinking the hard sometimes full kernels of corn in the locally produced cereal. “I’m waiting”, she continued, “what you need is cornflakes is it not?” I nodded unable to fathom what was happening to me. “So Nasco cornflakes it is then”.

“You also wrote Kerrygold milk. What is so called?” By now I wanted to run far from the Otigba Crescent residence and teleport myself to Lagos into the waiting arms of my mother and have this nightmare end. “Erm Aunty, that’s the one Mummy buys for me....” I said trying to bring up a credible defence for my beloved milk. “So if there is no Kerrygold in the market will you go without milk?” she asked, glaring at me from the top rim of her glasses. “No Aunty”, I replied fearing the worst. “Ok so Cowbell will do just fine.” “Oh no!” I screamed in my head.... “not that one”. I had never understood how people could drink what at that time tasted like chaff. I didn’t care if it was fortified with all the vitamins in the world. I made a silent vow to stay off milk for the whole term. I would rather drink sand!

“What is this, Hi Time?” The last ray of hope faded away and I wondered to myself what manner of wickedness this was. What had I done to deserve this? “Aunty it’s a drink that you mix with water to dilute and....” “When do you drink it then?” She asked and seemed genuinely puzzled. “For breakfast, with my bread”, I replied. “I thought you were all served tea with your bread every morning?” she said, still trying to understand what this item was doing on the list in the first place. I thought of lying for a split second but that idea went straight out the window when I remembered she was on many school committees and had been a principal of a girls’ school not so long ago. My lie would probably be detected before I had the time to finish crafting it.

“Yes Aunty”, I replied. Then I had a bright idea to play the suffering student card,” but Aunty”, I chirped, “the tea has all sorts of things inside. One time, we even saw a cockroach!” I marvelled at my ingenuity and was about to give myself a pat on the back when her deep voice asked with all seriousness, “Do all the other girls drink it?” I was blindsided. All I could do was nod, and that was that. My beloved Hi Time was crossed off the list.

After a few more minutes but what seemed like eternity, the ordeal was over and I went over to the corner and sat wondering what was to become of me. I went to school that term with a huge bag of garri, sugar, groundnuts, soyabean milk, coconuts, abacha, Cabin and a few other luxuries like milk, Nasco cornflakes and Blue Band. I went back to school defeated; shoulders slumped feeling sorry for myself on the calamity that had befallen me.

As the term progressed, I drank the tea with everyone else. Drank the garri with some coconuts and sometimes groundnuts, soaked the abacha and shared with friends and when I felt like some “assorted” biscuits, I brought out my trusty Cabin and smothered it with margarine and had a field day. And yes, I drank the milk and to be honest, it was just fine.

I survived. I was healthy and my grades didn’t suffer. I didn’t die. That was a revelation, and it taught me that we can so much with just a little less. She saw that I was leaning towards being grandiose in my thinking and almost walking through life thinking the world owed me something. She taught me that there would be times when you would not have enough and that no matter how little you think you had, it could still be shared with the next person. The character of a man is not in the abundance of his possessions but in the number of people he is able to touch in plenty or in lack.

I went back home for the long holidays and when it was time to go back to school for the new term, I wrote my list. My mother must have wondered what happened because it was shorter than usual. She still bought me all the nice stuff anyway since she was worried I must have fallen and hit my head when she was at work. But I appreciated everything I got from then on, knowing that if I needed to, I could do without. This is one of the many lessons I learnt from My Aunty Bundle. Lessons that came in handy and that I still fall back on today.

I love you Aunty but God couldn’t wait to have you by His side because you were just too good for this world. God bless you Aunty. See you later!