Anna.
Friday, July 18 2020.
7:30 am.
Just to make things clear, this is definitely not the beginning. It didn't start like this. My story –I mean– it didn't just start like this. This is where things just become..... relevant.
I was crouched, one knee on the floor while in my hands I held the ring, the ring of keys of course and at the same time I struggled to fix a little boy's tie.
"Pencils?"
"Check."
"Textbooks?"
"Check."
"Erasers? Coloring pencils? Bunch of weird children play toys?"
"For the love of God Bella, I've got everything! Even the action figures, they're not weird play toys." Tobey groaned zipping his bag before slipping it on.
"I'm just saying kid! I have to make sure you got everything or else your mother would dessicate my head, literally." I said raising my hands up in surrender.
"Well, I can take care of myself. I'm not five anymore." He whined running a comb through his thick hair.
"Of course, Tobey. You're six now move it! The bus is here!" I urged grabbing his lunch box and his hand.
This.......is pretty much my life, I help busy parents with their kids nowadays because I can't go to school anymore. It's simple, you call me and I come, then you go to work while I prepare your child.
It's been four months now, since my father went bankrupt. My University savings are what we live on, I believe that it was an occurrence. My father believes it's a curse, well, I don't blame him. It came like a slap, hard and quick.
He got fired from his job as an accountant five months ago, so he thought it was a great idea to start gambling. We all know the pros and cons to that.
Everything went haywire so fast it was almost invincible.
I am an only child and my parents got divorced immediately after I popped out my mother's body.
You see, my mother is an American citizen, a white American.
Hence, my lighter pigmentation.
The fun fact is that I live in a very small society here in Africa, and in this society many people have their own beliefs based on the white people.
For example:
Minority believe that white people are like... superior? Yes, superior to black people. This minority rather work hard and go work for the Americans and I respect their choice, go them!
They believe that white man can and will make a bigger difference than one of their own. That is why when they leave for the white man country, they never come back. Ever.
While majority believe that white people are the most successful people. They believe that white people just make things easier for the world and and all we have to do is co-operate. When they go to the States, they benefit and come back to teach or modernize our society.
"Bye bye Tobey! I'll see you tomorrow!" I yell from the porch as I watch him enter the bus safely.
"Tomorrow is a weekend Bella!" He yelled back and the door closed.
I smiled to myself and locked the door then slipped the key under their flower pot and sat at the door step, a long sigh escaping my lips when I did. My life wasn't really the best but it wasn't the worst either.
Sometimes what the minority or majority think doesn't matter because I live in a place where black people aren't ready to accept white man or anyone of his kind. Including me.
My father had fought for my stay in this community, they said they weren't going to let a rinsed kid mingle with them. They still say it, they still point fingers at me. The black-white kid.
But that was another explanation, right now I was waiting for my daily dose of entertainment.
"Shelly! Get yo ass over here."
Mrs. Esther, Tobey's neighbor shouted at her daughter. It was the same routine as always. Every single morning.
"Yes ma'am." Shelly answered grumpily, like she always did.
"You use that nasty tone on me 'gain..."
"...and I'll break all your limbs and rearrange ya nose and make yo papa apologise for knocking me up with a disgrace disguised as a lady called Shelly!" I finished the rant with a sprawly mimicked voice of Mrs. Esther.
"I'm sorry ma'am." Shelly apologized, her voice was strained as it always did when she apologized to her mother.
"Go get me my money and you better not steal some if you still wanna live." Mrs Esther and I said in sync.
I chuckled softly and took my glasses off, rubbing them on my jeans before putting them back.
I rose to my feet and tucked my hands into my hoodie, my curly hair was tucked inside the beanie that was sitting crookedly on my scalp, I positioned it well and started walking. I awkwardly push my glasses up my nose, not that it needed to be fixed. I'm just self conscious, always.
And those judgmental eyes too. I hate how they think I 'bleached' my skin, many of them think I use lotions with a high dosage of hydroquinone to make myself 'fair'.
While many already think it's illegal for me to be here.
I walk quietly down the street, trying my best to avoid the eyes of people.
My phone started vibrating inside the pocket of my hoodie. I don't have many people to talk to or even give my number to but I still checked who was calling, in case I was lucky.
Lucky as in...your mother? A small voice at the back of my mind said.
I scoffed and looked down at my phone.
Dad.
"Hello Daddy?"
"Hello Anna, where are y- Oh crap, my credit is almost exhausted. Just get back home okay?"
I sighed deeply when the call ended.
"I'm almost there." I mumbled, stopping to tuck my phone into my jean pocket this time.
While I was doing this I was suddenly plunged forward due to someone bumping into me from behind.
"Watch where you going!" The person yelled from behind. Their choked, tight voice thick with accent.
"Oh my, um, I'm sorry, really sorry-" I turned around swiftly and I immediately wished I didn't.
Her dark skin was almost glowing under the sun. A red sun hat was sitting perfectly on her scalp to hide her almost bald head. Her tiny eyes widen in realization, her button nose was adorned with a beautiful red stud. Red lips, red gloves, red handbag, red dress, red shoes. This amount of red would scare a menstrual flow.
"Hey! It's you! What do they call you 'gain? Uhh...... The black-white girl! You the girl everyone's been talkin' 'bout. Wow, s'this really your natural skin? You've been amongst us for seventeen years!" Noni screeched looking at me with wide eyes. "You probably don't know me–"
Of course I knew her, everyone did. She's Noni Tobalaji, the most racist human being you'll ever see on Earth. You'll always hear her high, displeasing voice on the radio, shouting on how white people should stay away from 'us'.
"–have a talk with you at the studio tomorrow?"
"Huh? No, no. I can't, I'm sorry." I muttered trying to walk away from this abomination.
"Wait, wait, wait. Is it true that your mother told your father to get out her life? I tell you girl, those white people are nasty." She seethed, her accent lacing every word.
While there are the minor and major beliefs about white people, there those who just do not like them.
Noni is definitely one of them.
"Uh, I um see your anger miss, but I really have to go. Goodbye, I'm sorry." I rushed immediately stopping a taxi and hurdling inside.
"Where are you going lady?"
"7th Avenue, Turp Street." I told him, avoiding his stare through the mirror.
