The sun had just come up when Olivia set out to explore past the school compound. Lagos had made her used to the hustle and bustle lifestyle but the village kind of gave her another view of pure simplicity, less chaotic lifestyle peace and calmness as children barefoot racing along red-clay paths and the presence of animals roaming freely.
She went cautiously, still holding onto her bag. Each step made her remember just how strange this world was. She froze near a clump of huts, observing women grating yams and chatting in their lyrical local tongues. One of the women looked over and smiled broadly.
Good morning, ma," she murmured graciously, curtsying a bit.
Olivia replied to the greeting haphazardly. "Good morning… I'm Olivia. I'm… the new corper in the school."
The woman smiled. "Ah, you are welcome. You'll see, the village being simple, but life is sweet."
Olivia attempted a nod of comprehension, but immediately she thought once again of the busted toilet, unpredictable water, and suffocating heat. Sweet? she dryly thought.
She proceeded further along the path, and saw a small party of little children having a stick and a tin can game. They stopped and stared, their curiosity shining in their eyes. Olivia waved uncertainly. A little boy ran.
Are you Miss Olivia?" he inquired in broken English.
Affirm," she replied, smiling distantly. "Are you headed to school today?
The boy sniffled affirmatively. "Yes, we'll learn from you!"
Olivia's lips twisted. In the midst of the panic and commotion, there was something appealing about their excitement.
As she proceeded, she looked to observe Chidera helping a man to mend a water container, his uniform dirty now in the process.
"Good morning," he yelled, seeing her. "Come, Lagos girl, see this. It's village life."
Olivia blushed with humiliation to be referred to that once again, but she followed. He demonstrated how villagers cooperated to cope with water shortages, to prepare communal meals, and to get the children in order while school lessons went ahead.
"It's… very different from Lagos," she muttered.
"Sure," Chidera agreed, smiling. "But you know, it's a cooperative kind of life. Everyone does his or her part to make it work."
Olivia looked about, soaking it in, the harmony, the plainness, the hardship. It was hot, it was dusty, there was a foul odor occasionally, but there was a rhythm to this she hadn't been expecting.
By the time she was back in the school compound, she already found that she had started to perceive little things, children's laughter, villagers' resilience, and, grudgingly, the faint charm of Chidera's efficient calm.
By late morning, Olivia had made up her mind that it was time to confront rural reality full-on. She had smiled graciously to villagers, walked and watched—and now, she was to give participation a try.
Her first chore was to bring water from the village well. Her pail was wobbly, and as she went along the dusty path back to school, a goat ran between her and it, sending it flying against her leg. Water went over the side, soaking her uniform.
"Ah! Lagos girl!" Chidera's voice shouted in the far end, a laughter embedded in each syllable. "You'll drown and never crawl out!"
Olivia shot him with a stern glare but she did experience the slightest flicker of amusement deep inside. "Shut it," she muttered, adjusting the bucket. "I'll handle it."
By the time she came back to school, dripping and exhausted, she had been welcomed by the children, who among themselves laughed at her dripping uniform.
Your skirt is wet, miss!" a little girl shouted.
"Yes, I know!" exclaimed Olivia, but the rage in her tone was eased by a reluctant laugh. This is madness, she thought. Good old-fashioned village madness.
Her second challenge was her lunch break. Lunch was simple, yams and beans in a tin plate. Olivia had never eaten from a plate without utensils in school, and she discovered she could not balance food on the plate as she sat on a low, unstable wooden stool.
Chidera came back, his food behind him. "Need a hand?" he asked.
No!" she exclaimed rapidly, but she dropped a few of the beans on the floor.
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You'll learn. Everything around this place demands patience."
The morning was further complicated when a strong gust of wind blew the blackboard over, and chalk went scattering across the classroom floor. The children shouted with excitement. Olivia complained.
"Settle down!" she shouted, rushing after the chalk that sailed out from under the desks. "Please, sit down! Sit!"
Chidera leaned his head out the door, hands against hips. "Well, you're an active little thing," he observed.
By day's end, Olivia was dripping with sweat, bits of chalk, and mud from a recent fall just outside. But despite the commotion, there was a little bit of pride sparkling in her heart. She'd done it. She'd taught. She'd looked the village reality dead in the eye.
As the sun descended, casting the shadows long and dark across the dirty compound, Olivia remained motionless in bed. Chidera came in, carrying two small water bottles.
"You made it," giving her one.
YES," she admitted, swallowing thankfully. "Just". He smiled kindly. "You'll get stronger. Faster. And maybe. like it someday."
Olivia frowned slightly, but a minute smile pulled at her mouth. She wasn't about to own to it, but his calming reassurance did something to her nerves.
The sun started slowly to set, tinting the sky oranges and reds. Olivia sat upon the creaky old bench in front of her door, spent from the day of mayhem. She was dirty, hot, and a few splatters of water from earlier mishaps. Chidera came out beside her, carrying two small dishes of edibles, yam and bean cake, simple but nutritious.
Seems like you've just been in a fight," he joked, setting a plate in front of her.
"Like I've just emerged from a battlefield," Olivia complained."There was a disaster every minute this day."
He smiled, a gentle, effortless laugh. "Welcome to rural living. It does not overlook laziness or pride. But you. you handled it better than I thought you would."
Olivia threw him a glare, half-indignant, half-alarmed. "Better than you hoped? That's no real compliment."
Chidera smiled. "It is if you did not faint or run back to Lagos in tears."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help but repress the faint smile that was holding her mouth. "Don't remind me." Olivia observed how composed Chidera was, how natural his movement was to the rhythm of the village, and she felt, for an instant, … grounded.
"You know," he looked at her, "if you whine like that you did today, you'll never really make it through this posting."
Olivia frowned. "Whining? I am making statements, as a matter of fact."
He laughed hysterically, shaking his head. "Observations, yes. I'll give you that. Lagos girls tend to faint in the first week." She smiled,"Well, I'm not most Lagos girls."
"No, you're. something else," he muttered to himself, and immediately thereafter, "Now, finish your meal before it gets cold. There would be another exploit tomorrow, and I advise you to get ready."
She chewed, thinking. Adventure… she mused dryly. Lagos had taught her comfort, and convenience, but this rural life taught her endurance, patience, and perhaps humility.
As the night drew in and grey closed over the sky, Olivia settled back, watching the little lights twinkling from other huts. She knew that despite the grime, the heat, and the turmoil, she did feel… something new a doubtful sense of belonging, of a kind.
And Chidera, in his efficient calm, his silent teasing, his surprising assistance, had been a part of it—whether she cared to own it or not. She looked at him once more and went to her room. He saw that she looked and lifted an eyebrow and a teasing smile to his lips, little, but she looked away, acting as if she was preoccupied with her bag.
As she went to bed that night, she knew something more surviving this posting wasn't just tolerating the heat. It was learning to adapt to the people, to the craziness, and maybe, building bonds with people with some sense of simplicity and originality.And deep inside of her thoughts, she couldn't help but believe that maybe Chidera was worth the trouble even though she didn't want to accept the fact.