Tola Saves the DayTola lives in a run-down block of apartments in the megacity of Lagos, in the country of Nigeria. Tola’s sister, Moji, is much cleverer than Tola. Tola’s brother, Dapo, is much faster than Tola. And even short-short Grandmommy is taller than Tola. Which makes Tola feel so small-o!
It is a rainy Saturday. There is no school on Saturday. Tola, Moji, and Dapo are all at home.
But Grandmommy is not at home. Grandmommy is out selling groundnuts by the side of the road. That is her job. And her job does not stop on Saturday. Her job stops only on Sunday, for church.
In church Grandmommy wears her most precious items—gold dangly earrings that are kept on the shelf beside her bed. Those earrings were worn by Grandmommy’s own mother and her grandmother and her great-grandmother. When she wears them, Grandmommy recites all their names, thanking them for giving her strength to carry on.
Grandmommy says that she can feel their strength in her blood and in her bones. Moji used to say that this was unscientific—until she found out about DNA. Grandmommy was not surprised. She said scientists are only catching up with what people have always known.
But church day is Sunday. And today is still Saturday. So Grandmommy is not wearing her dangly earrings. She is at work. And although Tola and Moji and Dapo are not at school, and although they do not have jobs to go to, they still have work to do.
“You three must clean the rice,” Grandmommy had told them.
Tola’s family can only buy cheap sacks of rice. Cheap sacks of rice have many small stones in them, stones that must be picked out.
Selling groundnuts by the side of the road does not earn them enough to buy sacks of expensive clean rice.
And Grandmommy cannot earn the money for food and wash all their clothes and also clean the stones out of the rice. So Tola and Dapo and Moji have to help.
But in fact Moji is studying on the old computer that her scholarship school has lent her. She is frowning at the screen with her A+ frown.
And in fact Dapo is using his knees to keep a football up in the air. He is wearing his Africa Cup of Nations frown.
So in fact it is only Tola who is squatting on the floor picking stones out of the rice! From where she is, she can see the bed and the shelf with Grandmommy’s gold earrings gleaming next to the Bible.
“Dapo!” she says to her brother. “You are supposed to be helping!”
Dapo kicks the ball up with his knees faster and faster and faster. Then he suddenly traps it under his foot like a rat under a broom. He beams at Tola.
“You see that?” he asks. “You see my World Cup moves? When I become a professional footballer, I will pay for somebody to pick the stones out of the rice.” Dapo pauses.
“Do not worry, Too Small Tola. I will take care of you! But for now, I must practice!”
Dapo starts to kick the ball up on his knees again. And Tola rolls her eyes.
“Moji!” Tola says to her sister. “Come and do the rice with me!”
Moji raises her eyebrows at Tola.
“If I do the rice now, then I will not be able to study. And if I do not study, then I will not become a doctor. And if I do not become a doctor, then I will be picking stones out of rice for the rest of my life.”
“But Moji—” Tola says.
“Leave me alone to become a doctor,” Moji says. “Then I will buy us all expensive rice. Rice with no stones.”
Moji turns back to her computer screen.
Tola scowls. She always does the Saturday jobs alone.
And picking stones out of rice takes forever.
And it is boring-o!
But Tola continues because if Grandmommy comes home and the rice is not finished, then she will not be happy. And Grandmommy might be small, but her lungs are not. And that is also why Tola never tells her that Moji and Dapo do not help with the Saturday jobs. Tola does not want to hear Grandmommy shouting, even if it is not at her.
Dapo kicks the ball up on his knees again. He makes a little grunt each time he does it.
“Dapo!” snaps Moji. “You are not allowed to do that inside! Grandmommy will be angry!”
But it is raining hard, so Dapo cannot practice outside. It is proper Nigerian rain, with fat drops flying down hard and fast like in a rich man’s shower.
“And who will tell Grandmommy?” Dapo grunts. “You, who are supposed to be doing the rice?”
Moji glares at Dapo. Dapo keeps his eyes on the ball. Nothing can puncture his concentration! He is kicking faster and faster. And grunting faster and faster too.
“Dapo!” Moji shouts. “That ball will break something! And then what will Grandmommy do to you?”
It is Dapo’s concentration that breaks!
The ball rolls away and knocks into Tola’s neat piles of rice and stones.
They become one pile of rice and stones mixed together like before.
“Look what you did!” Tola shrieks.
“I told you!” Moji sings out.
“It was you!” Dapo shouts at her. “It was you who did it. You are a witch!”
“A witch!” Now Moji is shrieking too. “Who are you calling a witch?”
Tola sighs loudly and leaves them to argue. She is so angry she could box their heads together. But they look like they are going to do that themselves. So she leaves them to it and starts to separate the piles all over again.
Copyright © 2023 by Atinuke; Illustrated by Onyinye Iwu. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
