Chapter One

The air-conditioning in the principal’s office did nothing to stop the moisture from pooling under Ada’s arms. She adjusted her boubou for a bit of circulation. Maybe it was the ever-humid Port Harcourt weather, or perhaps it was nervous energy as she waited for a response from Mr Usoro, the school principal. He held a copy of her letter in his hands.

Mr Usoro cleared his throat. “Please, madam,” he said finally. “I am not trying to be difficult. Running a private school is still a business.”

Ada’s heart sank. Ask and you shall receive, indeed. She forced a small smile through her despair. “I understand. I am grateful to you for allowing the kids to finish the term.”

“It was the least we could do,” he said. “Your husband never missed a payment. And, of course, he was such a supportive parent.”

Ada resisted the urge to ball her hands into fists. Emeka had practically built the school’s science block from the ground up – that effort surely went beyond mere ‘support’. But she held her tongue. She needed this man’s help.

Mr Usoro peered at her over the top of his glasses. “I must admit, I am a little surprised by your request. After all, your husband was a man of means…”

They all knew her wealthy late husband had rewritten his will. They all knew how, at the point of his cancer diagnosis, he had transferred everything he owned to his sister, leaving Ada and her four sons with close to nothing. But no matter what was said at the water cooler, no one understood its depth.

Ada felt naked even though she was fully dressed. Even from the grave, Emeka was still stripping away her dignity. But she reminded herself that it was about the children. The poor had no business with pride.

“I understand that placing all three boys on a scholarship is a big ask,” she said. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position. For that, I apologise. But Tobenna is a very brilliant boy, isn’t he?”

The principal smiled sadly and looked away as though trying to avoid the quiet optimism in her eyes.

“Would you at least consider a scholarship for Tobenna?” Ada shifted forward in her seat, placing her hands on the table in front of her. “Not a sympathy scholarship, Mr Usoro. You know Tobe is a genius and has been since he started in preschool here at age three. He was at the top end of primary exam results in the entire country. This school was on the news for that. You remember?”

“I do, madam.” The principal fidgeted in his seat and readjusted his tie, still avoiding her gaze. “Regrettably, Mrs Okeke, we are not giving scholarships at this time. I am so sorry.”

Ada reeled at his words. She’d hoped that at least Tobenna’s academic prowess would have counted for something. If he couldn’t stay in school, what would they all do?

She felt tired, so very tired. She stood up but collapsed in the chair immediately, as pain gripped the front of her skull.

Mr Usoro came around to the other side of the desk and bent down beside her. Ada stiffened as he slid his arm round her shoulder. She turned to look at him, her gaze landing on his bobbing Adam’s apple.

“Mrs Okeke, are you alright?” he asked.

Ada held his jacket. “You need to help me,” she said. “I’ll get on my feet. I’ll pay everything I owe, just let them continue here. I’ll pay everything I owe. I promise.”

The principal looked amused. Ada released him and looked down at her hands. Her palms stung from clutching at his jacket.

“Mrs Okeke, your request is almost impossible,” he said. “It will need the entire board’s approval. I would have to put my neck on the line for you.”

She looked up at him again, rising from her seat, a flutter of hope in the pit of her stomach. “Please,” she whispered.

“Tell me something.” He smoothed down his jacket. “Well, madam, if I help you, what do I get in return?”

“In… return?”

Ada’s jaw dropped as he explained how he expected to be rewarded. Her face hardened.

The principal leaned in towards her ear, his breath on the side of her neck. “Think about it.”

Ada reached for the glass of water he’d offered her, threw it on his face.