Patrick was worried that his uncle was about to embark on one of his tirades about the failures of the government. He didn’t have the call credit for that, so he focused his response on his problem. “Exams will start on Monday. That is why today is the deadline.”
“Send me your account number. Let me see what I can do.”
Patrick’s heart sank. This latest reply from Matthias was worse than his response earlier in the day: “You don’t have a problem. I will transfer the money to you immediately.”
He reminded his uncle he’d sent him the account number in the morning and added, “I’m sending it again now, to your two lines. Thank you.”
Four hours passed and there was no word from his uncle. Patrick had spent most of his day at the quadrangle hoping to rush to a cyber cafe to generate his receipts, zoom off to a bank to pay the fees and back to the cyber cafe to register his courses.
By 6:30 p.m., he left for the lodge where he squatted with a classmate. His last two calls had been cut by his uncle. Matthias had not changed. He was still as undependable as he had been to his mum, Patrick bitterly thought. What made it worse was that in waiting expectantly at the quadrangle, he had missed his lectures for the day and an unscheduled test in one of them.
“Why make a promise, why hang my hopes like this? Telling me to get lost would have been better!”
Now, he would be looking for not only his regular fees, but an additional Five Thousand Naira in late registration fees. He couldn’t restrain the heaving of his chest and the tears that cascaded down his cheeks as he walked back to the lodge he called home.
“Send me your account number. Let me see what I can do.”
Patrick’s heart sank. This latest reply from Matthias was worse than his response earlier in the day: “You don’t have a problem. I will transfer the money to you immediately.”
He reminded his uncle he’d sent him the account number in the morning and added, “I’m sending it again now, to your two lines. Thank you.”
Four hours passed and there was no word from his uncle. Patrick had spent most of his day at the quadrangle hoping to rush to a cyber cafe to generate his receipts, zoom off to a bank to pay the fees and back to the cyber cafe to register his courses.
By 6:30 p.m., he left for the lodge where he squatted with a classmate. His last two calls had been cut by his uncle. Matthias had not changed. He was still as undependable as he had been to his mum, Patrick bitterly thought. What made it worse was that in waiting expectantly at the quadrangle, he had missed his lectures for the day and an unscheduled test in one of them.
“Why make a promise, why hang my hopes like this? Telling me to get lost would have been better!”
Now, he would be looking for not only his regular fees, but an additional Five Thousand Naira in late registration fees. He couldn’t restrain the heaving of his chest and the tears that cascaded down his cheeks as he walked back to the lodge he called home.
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