"Why She Lives in a Police Cell"
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Ochei Innocent Ikem
OCHEI INNOCENT IKEM ENJOYS TELLING STORIES MORE THAN FOOD. HE PRACTISED JOURNALISM FOR OVER FIFTEEN YEARS BEFORE ENDING UP AS FOUNDING EDITOR, “KATSINA NEWSWEEK” AND GENERAL MANAGER, “African Mirror”.
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"Why She Lives in a Police Cell" - Ochei Innocent Ikem
"WHY SHE
LIVES IN A
POLICE CELL"
Ochei Innocent Ikem
3849.pngCopyright © 2015 by Ochei Innocent Ikem.
ISBN: Softcover 978-1-4828-0577-2
eBook 978-1-4828-0576-5
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Dedication
Chapter One First Home Work
Chapter Two Do Your Best
Chapter Three A Strange Story
Chapter Four Mrs. Chiazor Misses The H.m
Chapter Five H.m’s Husband Comes In
Chapter Six The Ipo Parades The Kidnappers
Chapter Seven Happy Birthday, Adaora
Review Questions
Glossary
It is God Himself that chases away flies for a cow that has no tail
African proverb
DEDICATION
To the Teachers that go extra mile
to secure the welfare of their pupils.
Chapter One
FIRST HOME WORK
Mrs. Chiazor, form Mistress of primary six, walked into the class at 8:45am. It was time for the day’s roll call. She walked up to the teachers’ metal sit and table. Both furniture were centrally positioned in front of the class. She placed her register on the table and stood akimbo, facing the class.
It was a signal for the pupils to do the needful.
The newly appointed class prefect, Rose Bello struck her own wooden desk three times with a small pebble. At the third count, the entire class rose up and greeted.
Good morning Ma
In their pronunciation, they dragged the first two words as if they were managing Okro soup being drawn by eba
from the plate to mouth. In contrast the last word Ma
was short and sharp. Also the entire greeting was so loud that you would think the hearer was hard of hearing.
Good morning class
Mrs. Chiazor, a six foot tall, woman in her forties answered almost in a whisper. She spoke with the ascent of an European because she was born and bred in Europe. Her parents had lived there before their death. She went to school in London. Mrs. Chiazor returned to Nigeria because she met and married a Nigerian who decided to return to his country two years ago.
The students sat down without noise, carefully observing Mrs. Chiazor as she cleaned the teacher’s seat with an hand-kerchief before sitting on it.
‘Now, listen to your names’, she said.
Yes ma the pupils replied in unison.
‘Carol Nweke?’
Her voice was louder now.
Carol Nweke jumped to her feet and answered in a loud voice.
Present Ma
‘Janet Dele?’
Janet Dele also behaved and answered like Carol Nweke. In fact, all the fifty-eight pupils in class followed the same example, while Mrs. Chiazor consistently called out the names as if she was asking a question. Both parties were persistently loud and clear.
Twenty minutes later, the roll call was over.
Now
commanded Mrs. Chiazor ‘since we are all new to each other, every pupil will get up and introduce his or herself, starting from the front row and to my extreme left’.
The pupil to Mrs. Chiazor’s extreme right and another one in the second row stood up.
‘Sit