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Mrs. Emenike never cared for these old men running little boys’ errands. No matter what you gave them they never seemed satisfied. Look at this grumbling cripple. How much did he expect to be given for carrying a tiny carton a few yards? That was what free primary education had brought. It had brought even worse to the homes, Mrs. Emenike had lost three servants including her baby-nurse since the beginning of the school year. The baby-nurse problem was of course the worst. What was a working woman with a seven-month-old baby supposed to do?
However the problem did not last. After only a term of free education the government withdrew the scheme for fear of going bankrupt. It would seem that on the advice of its experts the Education Ministry had planned initially for eight hundred thousand children. In the event one million and a half turned up on the first day of school. Where did all the rest come from? Had the experts misled the government? The chief statistician, interviewed on the radio, said it was nonsense to talk about a miscalculation. The trouble was simply that children from neighbouring states had been brought in in thousands and registered dishonestly by unscrupulous people, a clear case of sabotage.
Whatever the reason the government cancelled the scheme. The New Age wrote an editorial praising the Prime Minister for his statesmanship and courage but pointing out that the whole dismal affair could have been avoided if the government had listened in the first place to the warning of many knowledgeable and responsible citizens. Which was true enough, for these citizens had written on the pages of the New Age to express their doubt and reservation about free education. The newspaper, on throwing open its pages to a thorough airing of views on the matter, had pointed out that it did so in the national cause and, mounting an old hobby-horse, challenged those of its critics who could see no merit whatever in a newspaper owned by foreign capital to come forward and demonstrate an equal or a higher order of national commitment and patriotism, a challenge that none of those critics took up. The offer of space by the New Age was taken up eagerly and in the course of ten days at the rate of two or even three articles a day a large number of responsible citizens—lawyers, doctors, merchants, engineers, salesmen, insurance brokers, university lecturers, etc.—had written in criticism of the scheme. No one was against education for the kids, they said, but free education was premature. Someone said that not even the United States of America in all its wealth and power had introduced it yet, how much less …
Mr. Emenike read the various contributions with boyish excitement. “I wish civil servants were free to write to the papers,” he told his wife at least on three occasions during those ten days.
“This is not bad, but he should have mentioned that this country has made tremendous strides in education since independence because parents know the value of education and will make any sacrifice to find school fees for their children. We are not a nation of Oliver Twists.”
His wife was not really interested in all the argument at that stage, because somehow it all seemed to hang in the air. She had some vague, personal doubts about free education, that was all.
“Have you looked at the paper? Mike has written on this thing,” said her husband on another occasion.
“Who is Mike?”
“Mike Ogudu.”
“Oh, what does he say?”
“I haven’t read it yet … Oh yes, you can trust Mike to call a spade a spade. See how he begins: ‘Free primary education is tantamount to naked Communism’? That’s not quite true but that’s Mike all over. He thinks someone might come up to nationalize his shipping line. He is so scared of Communism.”
“But who wants Communism here?”
“Nobody. That’s what I told him the other evening at the Club. But he is so scared. You know one thing? Too much money is bad-o.”
The discussion in the Emenike family remained at this intellectual level until one day their “Small Boy,” a very bright lad of twelve helping out the cook and understudying the steward, announced he must go home to see his sick father.
“How did you know your Father was sick?” asked Madame.
“My brodder come tell me.”
“When did your brother come?”
“Yesterday for evening-time.”
“Why didn’t you bring him to see me?”
“I no no say Madame go wan see am.”
“Why you no talk since yesterday?” asked Mr. Emenike looking up from his newspaper.
“At first I tink say I no go go home. But today one mind tell me say make you go see-am-o; perhaps e de sick too much. So derefore …”
“All right. You can go but make sure you are back by tomorrow afternoon otherwise …”
“I must return back by morning-time sef.”
He didn’t come back. Mrs. Emenike was particularly angry because of the lies. She didn’t like being outwitted by servants. Look at that little rat imagining himself clever. She should have suspected something from the way he had been carrying on of late. Now he had gone with a full month’s pay which he should lose in lieu of notice. It went to show that kindness to these people did not pay in the least.
A week later the gardener gave notice. He didn’t try to hide anything. His elder brother had sent him a message to return to their village and register for free education. Mr. Emenike tried to laugh him out of this ridiculous piece of village ignorance.
“Free primary education is for children. Nobody is going to admit an old man like you. How old are you?”
“I am fifteen years of old, sir.”
“You are three,” sneered Mrs. Emenike. “Come and suck breast.”
“You are not fifteen,” said Mr. Emenike. “You are at least twenty and no headmaster will admit you into a primary school. If you want to go and try, by all means do. But don’t come back here when you’ve gone and failed.”
