I was over at Huseini’s learning about filling in income tax forms when Wilma arrived with another Canadian teacher from one of the eastern states. While we were talking I could hear the welcome trickle of water as it dribbled spasmodically into the bathtub.
I was eager to tell her my story of Joseph and so, as soon as I could, I began to tell her of our meeting. “Not you too!” She said. “It sounds like the same man who visited the McLeans. He managed to get N25 from them. Then the next day they came home just in time to prevent someone from breaking in. Whomever it was had almost got the door broken down.” Wilma said they believe it was the same man as he had visited with them and had had a chance to see the house. I told her that on my walk back to the highway with Joseph I had told him of our new security system; maybe the prospect of 1000 boys charging on the illegal entrant put him off paying me a second visit. Wilma said she would have to pay a visit to the Ministry of Education as it was obvious that he was getting information from our personal files concerning our families, home address by working there himself or having a friend there. He wouldn’t have got much from my place as there was nothing lying around that he could have eyed to steal later. This is a test of my faith to see if it turns me sour against all Nigerians.
I went back home with Wilma and was happy to turn on the bath tap and have water coming into the bathtub with great force. This happens later in the evening and I think it’s tied in with the end of bath time for the Africans. I’m at the end of a long row of houses and so I get a trickle when they are using a lot of water. I also play safe by putting water in the bath just in case it goes off again. It means I can’t have a bath but I have a wash cloth bath instead. I’ve realised how little water I need. In the morning I scoop a mug of water from the bath and I run it over my hair. It’s always stuck up when I get up so I need to dampen it down. I catch the water in the sink and I give my hands and face a wash. Then I use the water for my shave. If there’s a serious water shortage I capture the water and chuck it into the loo.
After saying goodbye to Wilma I came back into the house and found myself paddling through water which was overflowing from the bath. It was in the kitchen, hall and bathroom and so I had a mopping up job to do. I didn’t mind as I told myself the floor needed washing anyway.
