"Yes, mummy."
"Please, go and remove the dishes from the dinning table, your daddy has finished eating."
"Ok mummy, one minute."
"Honey."
"Yes, dear."
"Please come and listen to what Omo has to tell you."
"Daddy, regarding what?" Omo questions her father from the kitchen.
"Regarding a dancer, or don't you want to be a dancer anymore?"
"I do, daddy. But I didn't tell you that I want to discuss it with mummy."
"Discuss what with mummy?" Their mum ask as she hurry into the living room.
"Your daughter said she wants to be a dancer."
"Ha dear, I thought it's something very important you called me for."
"It's very important, she's very serious about it."
"Come on dear, you know she's only a child, she can't be serious."
"Mummy I'm not a child, I'm a teenager now and I'm in senior secondary." Omo informed her mom.
"Huh?" She responds in perplexity.
"And for your information, Omo continues, I and my friend will be representing the Apex Ball Team in next month's Ball dance competition."
"Which one is ball dance again?"
"Ah! Mummy, please don't tell me you've never heard of ballerina."
"Dear,she calls her husband with a bit of frown and curiosity. Which one is ballerina again?"
"Omo."
"Yes daddy."
"Explain to your mummy with some steps."
"Yes daddy." She stretches herself and starts to dance as she hums a song.
"Wait, wait, wait, is this what you said you want to be doing? Raising up your skirt for everybody to be looking at?"
"Mummy it's not what you think."
"Obviously, it's not what I think, it's what I'm seeing." She shakes her head in disappointment.
"This is so funny."
"Dear please stop laughing, I'm not finding this funny at all. This girl wants to spoil our family name. My only daughter!"
"Oh my God." He laughs louder.
"Daniel Ehime Lobekeme!"
"That's my full name, honey."
"Please stop laughing and talk to this girl."
"Mummy there's nothing to tell me, afterall, daddy was a dancer."
"No! He was a masquerade, not a dancer."
"Ah honey! Mr. Daniel exclaims, was I not dancing as a masquerade?"
"Oh yeah, but old things have passed away."
"Alright, Omo," Mr. Daniel calls, pretending to be serious, "you need to listen to your mom."
"No dad, both of you should please listen to yourselves." Omo advise. "Both of you used to tell us that we shouldn't live in rat-race. "You both told us that everyone was created with an ability, a gift and talent to impart lives for good."
"Yes, that's true." Mr. Daniel responds, nodding his head.
"You taught us to discover, harness and put our potentials to the best use," Omo continues," now I tell you that I want to dance and you are saying that I should not. What then do you want me to do?"
"What I want you to do is to try and understand that this country is not a place where you can get ahead with that kind of dance." Their mom tries to explain in a soft tone. "I think you should concentrate on getting into the university and think of something else."
"Mummy, Omo calls in a lachrymose tone, when did you become the creator and giver of opportunity." she asks as tears begin to well up in her eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"You said this country is not a place I can get ahead with ballerina."
"Yes, but I...I..."
"Mummy this is the opposite of what you've been teaching us, and I don't understand. Have you two been lying to us?"
"It's alright Omo, Mr. Daniel interrupts, we have not been lying to any of you, your mummy just want you to concentrate on your studies and do first things first rather than getting carried away with your hobbies.
"Hello people." Eromo calls excitedly as he walk pass his parents, he ruffles Omo's hair playfully. "What's up ballerina."
"Eromo, leave me alone, I don't have your time this morning."
"What is it?" Eromo inquires as he walks toward the dinning table. "Are you having a quarrel with you husband again?" He pulls out four eggs from the paper bag he took into the house and gently place them on the dinning table.
"Why is nobody saying anything?"
"Daddy."
"Yes."
"It must have come from you because you're the only one that is capable of releasing missiles that are powerful enough to create this type of noisy silence."
He walks into the kitchen and turn on the oven...
Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN
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