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Number Six
A short story by Mary Kemi Shorun
I have never disobeyed my mother, neither have I
ever failed to follow my father’s dictates to
the letter - onerous as they are. I respect my
elders and hold my younger ones in high esteem
the way I have been taught to behave - like an
authentic African child - I look down on no one.
I am neither greedy nor selfish, and I am always
contented with everything my father is able to
provide for me. I admit though, that I am not
well cultured, and I may not be the genius son
my father has constantly wished and prayed to
have, but I do try my best to demonstrate my
unbiased zeal for “special” learning. I believe
I am indisputably a most considerate, serious
minded, attentive, and diligent kid with a goal
driven life; I am cool, calm, friendly, and
composed. In fact, I am being commended for my
self-control on a daily basis, and my friends
here can attest to that. However, none of my
relatives seem to pay the slightest attention to
any of the aforementioned attributes; my father
treats my open sore with a generous amount of
salt when he fails to appreciate my efforts. I
do not beg to occupy a special place in his
heart neither do I solicit his undivided
attention; all I want and have ever hoped for is
some form of recognition – little as it may be.
Father has no fault in the whole matter that I
am talking about, and I do not blame him in any
way; I blame my mother for allowing herself to
be lured by Father's sweet tongue, for making me
be the eldest of six kids, for giving Father the
opportunity to put an abrupt end to my only
source of happiness, for perpetrating evil
without having a second thought, for bringing
about the massive leakage in my joy tank, and
for writing me off as a no-do-good. I was doing
well as a real student, and I was ready to see
myself through my special school when mother
decided to consider me as a nuisance in her
household and send me to the appropriate
organization for people like me - a place where
I will be useful for once in my life, a place
where I will be an asset of inestimable value
considering my condition.
****
The sun is burning my head, and the hot sand is
burning my feet as well. I am tempted to compare
my anguish to that of the people in hell - if
hell truly exists, but I have been strictly
warned against such erroneous and illogical
thoughts. I made quite a considerable amount of
money yesterday, but when I told Tutor Mai that
I was in dire need of a pair of shoes, he
shunned me and told me to go and continue my
loyal service in order to be worthy in the life
to come. That is why we are here, and that is
why we do all we do - to be worthy in the life
to come. We are fifteen in number in this part
of the town under my Tutor Mai; he will train us
until he is certain we are presentable to his
well learned boss; I do not really know what his
definition of “presentable” is. I have been here
for three years, but I have never been picked by
the “people,” so I have stopped hoping. I have a
very close friend - although I do not trust any
of the boys. Aban is my age mate; he is almost
as tall and gangly-looking as I am; despite the
fact that he very hostile and extremely
strongheaded, I know that he reasons along my
line of thought. We eat together and commence
our daily activities at the same time. He has a
problem though - he always gets himself into
trouble more often than I do. He is now under
the constant watch of Majid; bald, chubby,
fearsome, and aggressive Majid.
****
Majid tutored me when I came here; he taught me
amazing techniques of getting their attention.
He made me learn from his example, and I was
left with no choice but to listen to him and do
everything he said. He made me understand the
true meaning of the life I have now come to
live, and he helped me adjust well to my new
environment. He taught me to soar like an eagle
through every storm; he helped me lose my
timidity and embrace a new form of
aggressiveness to achieve my goals. He taught me
to “use what I have to get what I want;” he
groomed me. He narrated his story to me - that
he acquired his aggressive nature when he was
recruited to fight in an impromptu riot. Tutor
Mai had told him then, that “the fight is a Holy
Fight, and every faithful has to be ready to lay
down his life for the cause while bringing all
opponents down.” Majid narrated his story with
tears in his eyes, and I realized the true
personality of Mai when I learned that he sent
his own kids to a safe haven through out the
course of the riot - it was only then that I was
also able to completely comprehend my reason for
being here.
Majid joined the organization four years ago;
since then, he has been Tutor Mai's ‘favorite;’
Mai even entrusts his kids to Majid's care
sometimes. I believe that is the reason for
which Aban hates Majid with a passion even
though I often tell him that animosity toward
Majid will never solve any of his problems. He
will not listen to me; he prefers to continue
being hostile for no good cause. Majid has
thirteen siblings of which he is the eldest, and
his father is also a learned person. Tutor Mai
says Majid’s father cannot stand on his own and
that he still needs to depend on experienced
persons like him. Unlike my parents, Majid’s
parents have been here to visit him once, and we
all thought they would take him back home with
them when they were about to leave – how
surprised we were when we saw Majid the next
day!
Majid is very intelligent, and consistently, I
cannot help but imagine how his life would have
been in a conducive educational atmosphere;
Majid seems to me like a most pitiable fellow,
but Aban lovingly tells me that my condition is
more wretched than his; I do not believe him
although I am convinced that I will make no good
when I go out there - that fact need not be
overemphasized, its elements can be clearly
seen.
Aban is very optimistic; he thinks the people
will include him in their next list of picks
when they come. I tell him to quit living in his
fantasy land, but he is very positive and will
not give up on his hopes and aspirations; I
silently wish they will pick him though -
because I know he will make the best survivor
when he gets to the outside world. He is without
question the boldest, most charismatic, and
dedicated kid I have ever come across in this
place. He tells me to hope for the best for
myself too, but I keep telling him that I need
not deceive myself. I know I will never be
picked in this world, so I have made up my mind
to await the hereafter as Tutor Mai has said. I
remember the story my Christian friend once told
me: A man in the Bible is lame and he awaits an
angel to stir a river so that he will be the
first to enter and get healed. I remember asking
him then to tell me the end of the story; I can
also recall that he said the man did not get
healed through the river; his miracle came in
another form. I think I am like that man too;
maybe my freedom will not come in the form of
the short list of picks that the people will
bring - maybe my freedom lies someplace else -
perhaps in the hands of one of the rich kids.
Some people think we are students - people who
are very familiar with the kind of life we live
but choose to address our situation with a
nonchalant attitude. To the general public, we
are nothing but a group of street urchins and
disadvantaged kids who are totally dependent on
scraps and leftovers. I do not think they are
wrong; in fact, I think we are worse than a
bunch of regular guttersnipes in this area of
the town. We live in a place worse than a
pigsty, and we are all being taught to be
content with everything we own because we will
be committing an ‘almost unforgivable sin’ when
we think about laying up treasures for ourselves
on Earth. We are being told that when we envy
the boys in the Mercedes Benz, we will be doing
nothing but heating up the blazing furnace we
will end up in. I begin to wonder and ponder:
Why can I not be the one in the car? Why can I
not be the one the going to school in the Jeep
every morning? Why did I have to forsake the
formal education I was initially entitled to for
a life worse than that of a pig? Again, I quit
envisaging a life of comfort for myself.
****
Mai has four wives and numerous “maids,” and he
does not know the exact number of kids that he
has. He only addresses his first wife by her
name – Nana; according to him, his other wives
are still young and naive and should be
addressed according to their positions – Wife
two, Wife three, and Wife four. He married his
first wife when he was eighteen years - at that
time, she was fourteen. Now at twenty five, she
has eight kids, and Mai claims paternity of only
four of the kids; he says he has his reasons for
believing that his first wife kept flirting
around some years after they both got married.
Nana is saddled with the burden of catering for
four children, and that is why she has now
resorted to the only option left - getting her
kids initiated into the organization.
Mai’s second wife is twenty; at her young age,
she already has her kids surround her like
ducklings. She is a very proud woman, and I
still cannot fathom her reason for marrying
Tutor Mai - I've heard people say Mai jazzed her
into sleeping with him, but I do not think Mai
has also jazzed her into conceiving babies at
each successive marriage anniversary of theirs.
Mai's third and fourth wives are my age mate and
Aban's age mate respectively; they each have
four kids, and everyone of us here is aware of
the fact that a fierce childbirth competition is
going on between the both of them - we choose to
not poke our nose into the personal affairs of
the Tutor - we are here to learn anyway.
****
Aban stomps in angrily. I do not know why he
still gets enraged after every slight alteration
in the way things are. I am conscious of the
fact that the next few minutes will be horrible
for me, so I am getting myself prepared for his
outburst. “They are fools! Nothing but fools!”
he says.
“Who are they?”
“They are the new people on the other side of
the central building.”
“Do you know how long they are going to be
there?”
“I don’t know o, but I am certain they do not
intend to leave anytime soon. They are making
life miserable for me. Their tutor seems to have
applied more treatment to their appearances. I
struggled for a penny today where I used to get
good notes before. They have overthrown us, and
I am going to approach Tutor Mai this time
around. I do not care what the consequence will
be.”
“Whatever you do, apply some wisdom. Do not make
irrational decisions in anger. Get yourself
together before you do anything. I suggest that
you stay in and not go out again for today.”
“What? You know that is impossible! Mai is
expecting much from me considering I have been
in throughout this week and - "Aban is cut short
when we hear familiar voices - voices that we
will recognize even in our sleep.
The people have finally come to make their
picks, and Aban is standing right behind me,
praying hard in his mind - I can tell. They
examine every one of us critically, and the boss
scribbles down notes occasionally - I can also
tell. The moment has come to make selections,
and the whole environment is getting tense,
tenser than most of us can handle. The boss
picks Jarrah who is standing beside me, then he
moves past me and picks Aban. He says he needs
one more able person this time around, not the
usual two. There is silence in the room until I
can hear Aban audibly. “Majid is on his way,” he
says.
I can also hear the boss say: “We shall wait a
few minutes longer for whoever Majid is.” Aban
is crying; I can feel his tears. I am thinking:
I already know he will not pick me; I have
always known - because I use my sixth sense (or
"number six" as Aban calls it) - the sixth sense
that I have been using all along.
The end
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Mary Kemi Shorun was
born in Nigeria and grew up Kwara state.
She is presently studying Computer
Information Systems at Letourneau
University, Texas, USA. Her short
fiction is under consideration for
publication in The New Yorker, The
Pedestal, African Writing online, and
Wasafiri.
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