Way of The Wand
Chapter 38

The Afolabis were enjoying a dinner of yam porridge when Jira knocked on their door.

Timi went to answer it with reluctance, unhappy with having his supper interrupted. The reluctance wilted away when he opened the door came face to face with Jira.

“Jira!” He yelled out in excitement.

“May I come in?” She asked, rewarding his excitement with a smile.

“Please, absolutely.” He stepped aside for her to come in.

Jira paused a few feet from the entrance and waved to the remaining Afolabis where they were.

“Pardon me for interrupting your dinner.”

She’d barely gotten her apology out when Tomi kicked her chair back and dashed to go give Jira a hug.

“Okay, there, there,” Jira said, patting Tomi on the back.

Mr and Mrs Afolabi also got up from the dining table and ushered Jira a seat in their small living room.

“Can we get you anything?” Mrs Afolabi asked Jira as the latter settled in an old armchair by the wall.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Jira replied sweetly. “I won’t be staying long.”

Mr and Mrs Afolabi looked at each other then proceeded to sit in the arm chairs behind the center table opposite Jira.

Tomi and Timi took it upon themselves to occupy the worn-out sofa at the edge of the living room.

A perfect sitting arrangement for the kids as it put them in the right spot to monitor everyone’s reactions in what was going to be an interesting conversation.

Mrs Afolabi, with a nod from her husband, broke the subsequent ice by speaking first. “My husband and I can guess why you are here,” she began, “but we’ve made our decision. We do not want Timi and Tomi doing things that could get them hurt. Gods forbid something goes wrong, we wouldn’t be able to live with ourselves.”

The vivid look in Yomi Afolabi’s eyes passed on that he agreed with every word his wife uttered.

Jira began her rebuttal by expressing her understanding of the Afolabis’ fears. “I don’t just teach my pupils, I love them like they’re family. Like you, I dread to think of them getting hurt. But as much as I would like to keep them safe, I also wouldn’t want to clip their wings.”

Jira stole a glance at Tomi and Timi; their faces urged her to go on.

She leaned forward in her chair. “Your children—”

“Teens!” Tomi and Timi corrected in unison.

“Your children,” Jira repeated, stressing the second word, “are people too, with hopes and dreams of their own. I understand trying to protect them, but not to the detriment of their individuality. They have voices, and when they use it, we should listen and not ignore.”

Yomi Afolabi shifted his weight in his chair. “I can’t just listen to everything they tell me. Kids don’t always know what they want.”

“Yes, but sometimes they do. And this is one of those times.”

Jira gave a longing look at Tomi and Timi; they nodded their approval of her words.

“I implore you,” Jira continued, “let her finish what we’ve started. Let Tomi compete in the final task.”

Yomi Afolabi crossed his hands over his chest as his face went smug. “And what are you going to offer us in return, a shop in the King’s Market like Arron did, or do you have an even better bargain?”

Jira shook her head. She was unaware Arron had come to try and buy Tomi from her parents. No wonder they regarded her with this level of suspicion.

“I had no idea Arron had come to see you. I am no longer working with him. Unlike him, I don’t offer anything of material weight. Only the prospect of a fairer, better world for witches, a more just world that will ride in on the shoulders of your daughter’s victory.”

Wura Afolabi chortled. “Victory. What if she loses? If my daughter’s win brings about a better world for witches, what would her loss bring? A worse one?”

Wura paused to allow Jira imagine what a loss would mean for Tomi, what it would mean for her family, and witches in general. “My daughter would be blamed for the treatment witches receive after that. I will not place that kind of burden on her.”

“As it stands,” Jira said, “if Tomi fails to compete in the task for strength, Airad wins by default. Everyone, witches and wizards alike, will take Tomi for a coward. Tomi is many things Mrs Afolabi, but a coward she is not.”

Wura Afolabi bit her lips. “You make a compelling argument, but I can’t just shake off the feeling she’s going to get hurt. The risks involved, the dangers, that’s all I can think about.”

Tomi looked away, unable to meet her mother’s eye. She understood her Mum’s instinct to protect her, but she also believed she should have a say. She should have a right to put her body on the line if she wanted to.

Jira swallowed, reading Tomi’s body language. The younger girl was about to break out in protest and that wouldn’t help. A soft approach was the better way, so Jira continued. “Any Mum in your position would be worried. I am too. But risks are worth taking if the cause is right.” She paused. “Can I ask you this Mrs Afolabi, how did you feel when you saw Lila zipping across the sky on a flaming broom?”

Wura Afolabi threw her head back as the image came spinning back into her mind. Awe-inspiring, riveting, incredible, a moment she would never forget, a moment she would always be grateful to have witnessed. But of course, she would not admit that to Jira right now, not when Jira would try to use it to convince her to let Tomi fight in the final task.

The smile that dangled off her lips for a brief second betrayed her, and Jira capitalized on it.

“Inspiring, wasn’t it?” Jira said, “It felt the same for me too.” She stalled a bit before adding, “I bet what you don’t know is, just a few days before that, I scolded Lila for pulling that trick and made her promise never to try it again. I thank the gods she didn’t listen to me.”

Jira watched Wura’s surprised reaction at the revelation, it was subtle, but Jira caught it. “That moment, that iconic moment, almost never happened because I was too fixated on protecting Lila from herself, on shielding her from what she could do. That isn’t witchcraft. Witchcraft doesn’t hold back its pupils.”

The Afolabis seemed to have no comeback, and Jira proceeded to her next point.

“And what about Timi’s triumph at the task for smarts? Think of how proud you felt when he won. That was supposed to Tomi’s task. And again, I almost stopped him from competing because I was afraid, but Timi insisted on taking the risk. This tournament, it’s taught me just how important it is to listen to what my pupils have to say. I’m the teacher, but I’m the one who keeps getting schooled.”

Jira cocked her head to the side as she prepared to deliver the home run. “I thought I’d found the meaning of witchcraft before, but now I’m rediscovering it. Hear your pupils; let them be, that’s the way of the wand. My job as a teacher, your job as parents, isn’t to choose their paths. No one but them should decide their fates. Our responsibility is to support their choices, and your kids, they’ve chosen what they want to do.”

There was just one last point she had to bring up to seal the deal. Her own story.

Jira clasped her hands together and dropped her voice a pitch. “When I made the decision to drop out of Airad, to leave wizardry behind, my Mum, my sister, they didn’t support me. Don’t do the same to your kids.”

After everything they’d heard, there was no way either Yomi or Wura could uphold the ban on Tomi participating in the final task. Jira had given such a heartfelt and compelling argument. She had disarmed them with her words.

Wura Afolabi sighed.

“Fine. I’ll let Tomi resume her training with you. But she better not lose.”

“I assure you—” Jira rose to her feet. “—She won’t.”

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