۝CHAPTER THREE۝

When our conversation got that animated, my children seemed to forget that I was also a teacher. I never bothered reminding them. The sponataneity of the discussion was what made it interesting. And if you attempted to interrupt, you would destroy the flow of the discussion.

Teemah, my second child, opened her mouth to say something and paused.

Just then, there was this loud knock on the door.

Before he was asked to come in, Omar pushed open the door and jumped one.

"I made it mum, I made it!"

His sisters all stood up as one and began asking, "What did you make?"

"I made it to the university, dears. Bint, your big brother is a university student."

They screamed and shouted and ululated.

The news came as a pleasant surprise to them. And especially to me. Nobody knew where Omar was going when he left home earlier that morning. To say the truth, he was looking rather anxious when he came to greet me in the morning. He was dressed in blue jeans and white shirt. His skin cut hair style contrasted beautifully with his side burne which kept clean and trim. He had always been a precocious child . To look at him, you would think he was well into his twenties. But Omar was just eighteen. My singular thrill with Omar was that he was always decently dressed and clean. This pleased me beyond measure.

Now, I was even more pleased when he ****** the admission letter from Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board to me. The Board was popularly known by the acronym, JAMB. Indeed, even at my time it was not inconceivable that there were some undergraduate students who never knew what the acronym stood for. Let alone now. Anyhow, I took the letter and read it. My son was given admission to study Law at the Kongo Campus of Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria.

This was exhilarating.

This was all his father dreamt of.

My husband had wanted to read Law himself but providence dictated he read accounting.

"Big Bros, what course did they give you?" Teemah, my first daughter, and therefore Omar's immediate younger sister asked.

"Look here, young lady, call me with respect. To you, and everybody in this house, except mum and dad if course, all of you should now call me My Learned Brother. In the school we call each other My Learned Colleague. So, since you are not my colleagues you call me My Learned Brother!"

"Indeed! This is called running before learning to crawl!" Teemah laughed.

"Can you hear yourself?" Jamila said her brother.

"Just call yourself Omar Esquire," Teemah said.

"Mum, your daughters are plain jealous."

"Indeed," Teemah managed to muster all the affectionate sarcasm in that single word.

"Big Bros, congratulations," Bint said, turning to her brother to give him a hug.

"Thank you, my dear. For you there is an exception. Call me whatever you want. But those belligerent sisters of yours...let me just catch them calling my name anyhow. We will take them to court."

See you next chapter. Sorry for the late update

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