QUANDARY

There was only one noun to describe the expression on Chimezie’s face. Despair. The anxiety looked like it had come to stay. But then, it was not like his face had not accommodated worse. Despair, depression and frustration were regular visitors to his mental space, and ultimately influenced his facial expression.

These feelings were friends of his, but who could blame him. Eleven years of legal practice without a major breakthrough or even a half-decent pair of wheels would break even the most resolute of spirits. Chimezie’s inbox was littered with regret mails from nearly every top establishment he had applied to, within and outside the legal industry. In spite of his excellent grades (second class upper division both at the university and at the Nigerian Law School), his bank statement had met with no significant improvement.

He had worked in law firms where he had received salaries that barely covered his transportation expenses in a month, let alone being enough to feed adequately. From hanging around at police stations to blatant pleas to prospective clients at the Corporate Affairs Commission, Chimezie had done it all, with an end product next to nothing. More painfully, he had to send a chunk of his meagre earnings to his young wife, a widowed mother, and six siblings back home in the East. He had less than no choice; they would not hear that his career path was not yielding the desired dividends; after all, a plot of land had been sold to fund his sojourn at the Nigerian Law School. There were days he contemplated suicide as a way of relieving himself of all the pressure. The sun rose and set with nothing for him to smile about.

Until recently, a week earlier, he checked his Facebook inbox, only to find a message from a long-lost pal. James, a successful engineer with whom Chimezie had shared rooms for two consecutive years during their university days, needed help with a building contract agreement, and had asked if he could help, promising to pay handsomely. Frowns had transformed to smiles over the past couple of days. Chimezie was alive again! The issue of whether James’ wealth was legitimate was another issue, but this struggling lawyer could not be bothered. For all he knew, months of fasting and immense prayers had finally paid off.

This was why anxiety found its way to Chimezie’s face that evening. James had initially agreed to meet Chimezie at the latter’s law firm where he worked under a man who had chosen to share rooms with a photocopying shop, but due to what James imply referred to as “unforeseen events”, the proposed rendezvous had been moved to James’ apartment earlier in the week. Chimezie was not comfortable, as going to James’s place would amount to a gross violation of the ethics which he swore to uphold. He knew he needed the money, he knew that his life was in dire need of a facelift, but he was also aware of the Rules of Professional Conduct which applied to his line of trade. He had avoided sharp practices throughout his career thus far and had always boasted about his integrity and how he stuck to the rules. Meeting James anywhere outside his law office would mean deviation from principles he held so highly. In spite of his financial struggles, he commanded a level of respect among his colleagues, and conceding to James’ preferred location would do his dignity no favours, not to mention the risk of a sanction from the Legal Practitioners’ Disciplinary Committee... but then again, what was dignity? How had those ethics changed his life? What had the Rules done for him? How many people even practised by the rules these days?

His phone beeped again. It was a text message from Ebube, his younger brother who had been awaiting admission into an Eastern university. The message was short and simple: their mother had suffered a stroke and was lying ill. A tear dived down Chimezie’s left cheek.

He cursed the Rules!

Onyeka Ehiwuogwu (ZEUS)

For zeustelescope.wordpress.com

Edited by Ifeanyi Jerry Chiemeke