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My Broad Daydream
by Calista Amarachi Attamah   (Author)
Read First Three Chapters


Waking up so early was like hell for me today. I could not help but sigh when Mum called my name on top of her voice. Hearing her voice, I knew it was Mum’s, waking us up for the morning devotion. But it was just 30 minutes I laid back in my bed after the morning devotion. “Why is Mum calling my name in this manner?” This question re-echoed in my mind. She could not even call me the pet names that she always used when she woke me. Mum would call me names like “Ihu m”, Adanne,” “lhu Mummy,” and so on. Calling me such names made me bigheaded, stretching my body very well and answering with my nose. On one occasion, Mum had tried waking me up. I answered through my nostrils.
“Yes, Mum.”
“Stand up, my baby. It is morning already.”
“Alright, Mum, just give me one more minute to wake, I will soon join you.”
“No, my baby, Mummy wants you to follow her.”
Dad would voice his mind when he could no longer have the patience.
“Bia Nwanyi, can’t you wake that girl or should I give you a helping hand? I do not want to be late for work. Use those hands of yours to beat her instead of reciting poems for her.”
My mind always skipped when I heard Dad’s voice because he believed in discipline and did not have time for petting anyone. I could remember that the last time Dad pampered me and called me pet name was when I fell ill. Dad never played with our health, and always made sure we ate good food, drink clean water, had rest, played and of course read.
Dad would never skip the idea of reading whenever he advised us. Every Sunday afternoon, Dad called us together for what he termed the “HOUR OF MOTIVATION.” I rather called it “THE HOUR OF DISCIPLINE.” My kid brother Kenly, in his own unique way, coded it “REVELATION OF GENESIS”. To him, that was when Mum would reveal to Dad all our wrong deeds throughout the passing week.
My three brothers and I: Michael, Nelson and Kenly would complain because Sundays were days we spent time watching different movies. I usually went for the home movies; Michael, my eldest brother, would prefer to watch foreign films while Nelson, my immediate elder brother, and my kid brother Kenly would play video games. We all stayed in our rooms because Mum and Dad would be watching CNN in the sitting room with Mum telling Dad that entire she observed in us within the week - after which we would be summoned for the hour of motivation. Meanwhile, Mum who read journalism and worked as a secretary in the state Ministry of Information would advise us after Dad had finished with his motivational talks and lessons. She loved using peculiar
Stories or experiences to drive home her intention - that part we all seemed to love.
Mum preferred to call us by our local names or pet names, but Dad in his characteristic manner would call us by our English names , except for me that he called by my native name, “Ihuoma”. Sometimes, I felt like asking him why he chose to call me by my native name, while calling my brothers by their English names.
I only heard my English name during my primary school days when our class teacher would call my name from the school register as Amanda Ihuoma Okeke, and I would shout “Present, Aunty” in response .
I was shocked one Sunday afternoon when Dad called my English name. Fear gripped me because since my childhood, I never remembered Dad calling me by the name “Amanda”. My Kid brother who was with me was also surprised to hear him call me Amanda. He was the first to ask a question.
“Did Dad just call you that?”
I did not know what to answer him because I was not sure, myself, but we were both sure the voice we heard was Dad’s.
“Well, let’s find out,” I said to Ken.
We both ran to the sitting room, where the voice came from, and behold, it was him.
“Yes, my dear,” he said as he sighted me, “I called you. What were you doing?”
I could not speak a word as I suddenly became dumbfounded with so many questions begging for answers in my mind.
“What could have made Dad call me Amanda? Have I done something wrong? Did any admirer come to ask of me? Because if there were, Dad would’ve skinned me alive before I’d be allowed to explain.
These questions were running through my mind without any answer when Dad broke the silence.
“I thought I asked somebody a question?”
“Yes, Dad, em………… nm………… I”
“What were you doing or am I speaking Latin?”
“I … I was looking at the television.”
“You were looking or watching, would you correct yourself?”
“I was watching the television.”
“So what was the programme shown because I know you would not watch anything else but those non educative movies of yours?” I could not say a word as Dad seemed right. “Well, call your brothers together; I have something to tell you.”
“Yes, Dad,’’ I said and I left.
All the while, Ken was sitting next to dad, pretending to be watching CNN.
Shifting his gaze to him, “Ken, I didn’t see you come in, and what are you doing? Don’t tell me you came to the sitting room to watch CNN. I know you are here to listen to what I was telling your sister. Now, go and tell your Mum that I ’m waiting for her to conclude the arrangement of her cloth; tell her to hurry up,” Dad told Ken.
“Yes, Dad,” answered Ken as he hurried off.
We were all seated, and Mum told Michael to say a brief prayer. I had always wondered why we must pray before we had a talk together or before we commenced the motivation hour.
We always committed all our day’s activities into the hands of God during the morning devotion but, that never stopped Mum and Dad from praying even when they wanted to take a glass of water. I had grown to learn from them that we must always pray all the time, and commit everything unto the hands of God. In school, I practised what I learned from them by praying before receiving a lecture or writing an exam, even if I had prayed before I came to class. Uche, my friend, found it funny and would call me Holy Mary whenever I prayed.
After the opening prayer, Dad started by thanking God for everything he had been doing in our family. He sounded very happy, and I began to wonder what must have been the cause of his happiness. When he was through with thanking God, he told us that God had lifted him high and had done a very wonderful thing for him. Mum gave out a beautiful smile even when she had not yet heard what Dad had to say. After the opening speech, Dad broke the good news to us. He told us that he had just been called by the Chief of Staff informing him of his appointment as Commissioner for Environment from his former position of Director of Urban and Regional planning. Mum was already dancing without letting him finish his speech. We were all happy and congratulated Dad on his elevation. He further told us that we must continue to pray and commit everything unto the hands of God because He had been good to us. The inauguration was to be in three days time at the Government House in Enugu. Dad could not just let go without briefly observing the demands of the motivation hour. He finally concluded by urging us to read our books very well so that we could attain even greater heights in life.
“You must learn to be the best of whatever or whoever you are in life otherwise you will end up being a photocopy instead of an original.”
We all left the sitting room after celebrating Dad’s promotion with a bottle of red wine. We later had a brief prayer and ended the meeting.
I tried my best to put what Dad always told us into practice by reading hard, so as to make a good grade in my OND result from the Institute of Management and Technology (IMT), Enugu.
I was only 19 when I finished my secondary school. I wrote my UME the following year, and Mum advised that I write the MPCE. While waiting for my SSCE results, Dad made sure I was still busy by finding me a private teacher who came to the house and tutored me on computer programs with the computer system we had at home. When the result finally came out, I made good scores both in the UME and the MPCE examinations. I wrote the post UME exam of University of Nigeria,
Nsukka (UNN) and that of the Institute of Management and Technology. I wanted to study Accountancy, and Economics as my second choice. The result of the post UME of
UNN came out and unfortunately, I was not given an admission because my score was below the cut-off mark. It was just a difference of five marks. Dad would have helped with his influence, but he bluntly refused any underground manoeuvre, insisting that I must earn what I get and not get what I did not deserve. To me, Dad should have been a pastor with his kind of attitude because he was too principled for my liking.
The result of the post-MPCE of IMT came out, and I gained an admission to study Accountancy. At first, Dad insisted that I wait for the next academic year, and take another UME exam because he would want me to study at UNN, but Mum who, had always known how to convince Dad, told him that to delay was dangerous and that a bird at hand was worth two in the bush. He later reluctantly allowed me to have my way. At last, l gained admission to study business management at the Institute of Management and Technology (IMT) in the year
On the day I went to the faculty to find out what the requirements for a fresh student were, the number of students walking about was alarming, and my legs could not carry me. I stood at a spot for more than 30 minutes not knowing what to do. My prayer was that God should send me help and a comforter. Not too long, a girl walked up to me.
“Hi, I ’m Uche. Were you given an admission into this institution?”
“Have you started your registration process?”
All my answers to her questions were “Yes” or “NO”, not until she told me she was also admitted into the same department as me, I was so happy. She later helped me throughout my registration.
“You seemed to be conversant with the ins and outs of the school?”
“Yes, my Mum is a non teaching staff here; Also, I always come around to visit her. She has actually taken me around the offices and school and has told me how to go about my registration.”
“Oh, I see; you are very lucky.”
“Lucky! How?”
“Well, you do not seem to know how it looks like coming into this highly populated institution without a guide.”
“Well, let me accept it that I ’m lucky.”
“Of course, you should.”
“Alright, can we proceed; let me take you round and then to my Mum for introduction.”
“Ok, that would be great.” Uche helped me through my registration, and we became very intimate friends.

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Price: ₦500 ($3)
Product Details
Author: Calista Amarachi Attamah
Publication date: 7/17/2014
Pages: 84
Product dimensions: 395 x 600
More About This eBook
A stirring story of romantic adventure, betrayal, greed and deception, but also of reconciliation – Kennedy Igwebuike, a university-trained Accountant and Company executive stumbled into the love of his life; and weathered the storm in his effort to woo Ihuoma. Soon they are frolicking all over the town in love – picnicking, hosting birthday parties and whisper of marriage echoes. Suddenly, a family fraud of the years gone by bars their progress. Can they surmount it and have a glorious reunion?
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About Author
Amarachi holds a B.A in Mass Communication from the Enugu State University of Science and Technology (ESUT). She is the incumbent Financial Secretary of the Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA), Enugu State branch. In 2011, Amarachi was awarded the Young Writer of the Year by the Young Creative Writers Society of Nigerian (YCWSN).
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