Chapter III
III
Her daughter’s first swimming lesson was unpleasant. Eniiyi kept crying out for her, but Ebun hardened her heart. There was more at stake than a six-year-old’s discomfort. It was a matter of life and death.
The swim coach—Mr. Alieu—lacked any form of patience. She wasn’t convinced he was accustomed to teaching children. She wasn’t even certain he had been trained to teach. In Eniiyi’s first lesson, he picked her up and tossed her into the deep end.
She watched her daughter flailing in the water, and fought the urge to jump in.
She wouldn’t help the child by saving her.
One day Eniiyi would understand; maybe she would even thank her.
Whatever else happened, she would make sure that her daughter could conquer the water, so that if Monife were ever tempted to call her into the watery depths, Eniiyi could fight for her life.
But as for the present, Ebun could see that Eniiyi hated the lessons.
She would start to cry as soon as they arrived at the pool, but found no sympathy in her mother’s stony gaze.
Mr. Alieu shouted his instructions, growing annoyed when Eniiyi repeated a mistake—“Abi, are you deaf ni? Why are you twisting your body from side to side? Elongate! Elongate!” And he would push her to the point of exhaustion.
Ebun could have stopped it. She came close to stopping it; but then she saw how her daughter had improved, her arms and legs working as one, propelling her in the water.
She was gliding. And though she continued to resist, to call Mr. Alieu names under her breath, there was no denying the progress.
Eniiyi was six when they started the lessons; a hundred and fifty sessions later, a pre-pubescent girl climbed out of the water and wrung her hair with her hands before turning and seeing her mother.
Their eyes met across the pool. And then Eniiyi walked away.