**ISADORA(SEASON1)**

Episode 1
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Story based on true life experience.
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2nd February 2012
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Scene 1 begins with Val’s side of the story’’’’’’’
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Driving down the lonely hills of Nsukka after a very
extensive research work for my new book, I was
very tired and a bit restless as I planned my
schedules for the weekend without concentrating
much on my driving. Walking down
absentmindedly on the middle of the same road
was this young girl with an empty tray on her
head. I never saw her on time and almost knocked
her down if not for my powerful brakes which
screeched the car to stop just hairs breathe away
from her. Out of shock, the tray on the young
lady’s head fell and rolled over to the gutter while I
rushed out of the car to see if she was alright. She
turned to look at me that moment and it was as if
the world came to a stop as our eyes met.
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Before me was the most beautiful girl I have ever
seen. She wore no makeup, she was sweating, her
clothes were far from elegant but yet her beauty
overshadowed it all. It was as if I was standing
before the Nigerian version of Cinderella.
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‘’I’m sorry I wasn’t paying much attention but you
were equally walking in the middle of the road.
Hope you are okay?’’ I nervously asked as I
headed to the gutter to pick up her tray. She
nodded with eyes filled with tears, quickly collected
the tray for me and drew backwards.
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‘’I’m sorry for almost putting you in trouble.
Forgive me’’ she breathed fluently, surprising me
with her English. But before I could say anything
further she was already walking down the road.
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‘’my name is valentine, can I, can I drop you where
ever you are going?’’ I stammered. I couldn’t even
believe myself. It was my first time of offering a lift
to a stranger. But unfortunately she gave me no
reply, neither did she stop for a second. Hesitantly
I headed back to my car and drove away,
wondering if I would ever see her again in my life.
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——————————-
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Isadora’s side of the story
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One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, I
counted the money with me for the umpteenth
time. It was money I made from the sales of Udara
(African apple) I sold at the Afor market close by. I
was very lucky to sell the apples on time and was
rushing home to prepare lunch for my adoptive
family who derived pleasure in abusing me, in
finding faults in everything I did.
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I wasn’t brought up with happiness like other
village girls. I was brought up with daily abuses,
stigmatization and curses. I was told that I was an
evil child that brought misfortunes to my biological
parent’s right from when my mother was carrying
me in her womb. I was equally told that six
months after I was born, my parents burnt to death
in their house with every single property in it and I
was found untouched by the fire, laughing
hysterically on my baby bed. It was a story I was
told a hundred times over and I really had no way
of verifying the authenticity.
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Yes my head was filled with my childhood
memories that I never knew when I started walking
in the middle of the road only to get myself when
the noise from a screeching tire brought me back
to reality.
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I soon found myself facing a very handsome
gentleman who never scolded me for being in the
middle of the road, for almost putting him in
trouble. Instead he asked if I was alright. My heart,
my soul, my entire body just quivered before him.
At first I thought I shivered out of fear but then
inside of me I felt something I had never felt before
and had to walk away to avoid disgracing myself
further.
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Valentine was the name he called to me and It kept
ringing back in my head over and over. Deep down
I felt like chatting endlessly with him, sharing my
problems with him but all I could do was to walk
away without looking back. I soon saw his car
speed away and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was
ever going to see him again.
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———————————————–
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On getting home I ran into my mother who instead
of welcoming me back happily for making a quick
sale, began scolding me for not sweeping the
compound and fetching water before heading to
the market, forgetting she was the one that asked
me to abandon everything and head to the market
to sell her Udara fruit.
I tried to remind her but it only landed me three
dirty slaps on my cheek. I was hungry, angry and
tired of life. I was nineteen and saw no future
before me. I knew all my adoptive parents were
planning was to marry me off to the highest
bidder. Yes by God’s grace I already managed to
finish my secondary school with the help of church
scholarship but that was the end. Since then my
parents had virtually refused allowing me to go
learn a trade or even do something that would
help me in future and I couldn’t help but realize
that the more I stayed with them the more I was
ruining my life. i made up my mind that very day
to leave the house, to run away, to run to my
future. A very daring decision, a very risky
adventure. I had no money with me, no destination
in mind, only God and fear in my heart.
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I sneaked out of the house later that night and
stepped into the unknown.
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To be continued