The Hunt for H.G. Growmore

“THIS IS AWFUL,” muttered Isabella in a low, wobbly voice. Behind her on the only bed in the room, Kay did not react. The half-length mirror in front of Isabella showed him clearly, lying on her pillows, absentmindedly rubbing his upper lip with a finger. His eyes did not leave the page facing him; a funny-looking picture of some sort of aliens was on the book cover. Aliens. Humph! 

“It’s really, really dreadful,” she added hopefully, sneaking a look at him over one shoulder. Kay seemed carved from stone. Even his eyes didn’t blink now. What on earth was so fascinating about visitors from another world? What about people from this planet? Like, his kid sister, for instance. 

“It’s terrible!” Isabella yelled, smacking a palm on the mirror for good measure, making Kay jump two feet off the bed. The book fell from his hands. He gaped at Isabella in astonishment, quite speechless. There, much better, Isabella started to smile, then caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The smile vanished like her pocket money halfway through the month. 

“I don’t believe this! Just unthinkable!” she moaned, staring with wide eyes at her reflection in the mirror. The Image that stared back, eyes alarmed, long wispy hair all awry, was that of a pubescent female, skin like the sunset of a day spent on the beach, much too tall for her age, with a perky, slightly upturned nose adorning a decidedly pretty face. 

Mummy said Isabella’s nose was her most visible facial feature; “walking nose first,” she termed it, shaking her head with indulgent pride. Teacher Ngozi at school wasn’t such a fan, though. She opined, “that Bella in JSS 3 … that nose of hers looks like it always wants to tell everyone what to do- and how to do it too!” 

Right at the moment, however, Isabella’s nose was the last thing on her mind. She really couldn’t bear it. It was a totally awful, awful thing to be happening! And what could she do? 

The funny thing was, this was absolutely the worst day to feel awful about anything. To start with, outside, the July sun blazed happily on a world filled with singing birds and happy, playing children. 

Up and down the street in this residential Estate in Kaduna City, one could almost touch the palpable euphoria in the air. And with reason too. This was the first day of the long holidays, “the long vac” as school kids all over the country called it. They were the height of every Nigerian Kid’s year, looked forward to with ever-mounting excitement as they slowly approached. 

7 glorious school-free weeks! With absolutely nothing- or everything to do, depending on one’s personal energy level. The air fairly hummed with plans being made, even if they were just thoughts of lazing around the house, bedroom, beach, garden, poolside, or stream, watching tktoks, glued in front of a tv screen, with a fav book or movie, or absolutely nothing at all. Whatever chilled your ice cream. Kids everywhere were in holiday heaven. 

However, Isabella was not thinking about the holidays either. She gasped as she ran a long comb through her hair once more. Several fine strands came away with the comb. Others floated softly to the floor. Now she groaned, staggering back to flop into a pretty daffodil-covered armchair by the window. 

The bedroom was Barbie recommended pink, violet, and white. Pictures of animated heroines, ballet dancers, singers, and actresses decorated the walls. Soft toys and sundry personal knick-knacks cluttered the modestly sized room.  

The July breeze wafted softly in, blowing hair across Isabella’s eyes. Impatiently, she secured the loose hair with a yellow rubber band. More strands of hair came loose in her hand. She groaned again – longer this time. 

“It can’t, can’t, can’t be happening!” she whimpered, “Isabella, diva of the twenty twenties, going … I can hardly even say it… b-bald! Dreadful!” 

“I did warn you.” Kay had recovered and now lay sprawled on his belly on the small pink bed across the room. He bore a noticeable resemblance to the distraught Isabella. The book was back in his hand, and he wore an orange T-Shirt which said in big white letters: “I AM PRETTY NICE, BUT YOU WILL NEVER PROVE IT.” 

As almost always, Kay now had a dreamy look on his face and a wistful half-smile, which hinted that he was keeping a precious secret from the world. Which he usually was especially from the grownups of that world; teachers and parents particularly. Minus Mum, though. Kay wouldn’t admit it to save his life, but his gentle, understanding mother was tops in his list of real-life heroes. 

Kay was just a year older than his sister, but was convinced one of his life’s missions was her thorough, if unconventional, education. 

“I told you a hundred times if I told you once…’ 

Kay puffed his chest up, cleared his throat, and assumed a gruff headmaster tone: “‘Bella, don’t catch up your hair in a chignon’.” 

The act over, Kay became his old self again. He had a pleased “Boy, did I kill that,” look on his clear face. He smiled smugly and shrugged, “But do you ever listen?” 

“What’s that?” 

“What’s what?” 

“What you said. Chi- something. I wasn’t to catch my hair in it.” 

Kay smirked. “Chignon. With a silent g. It’s a bun of hair.” 

“A bun made from hair?” 

“Noo. A bun of hair. You know when you sweep your hair back and knot it at the nape of your neck. Like you are doing right now. That’s a chignon.” 

“You always do that,” sulked Isabella. 

“Do- what?” 

“You always throw long, meaningless, unknown words at me so that I’ll ask their meanings and make you feel clever.” 

Kay raised a dramatic hand. Now he was Professor Tom Foolery in his current favorite TV show, Tom Foolery’s house. 

“Now just a wee second, me dear girl, how are they possibly meaningless if one may ask their meanings, eh?” He adjusted a make-believe monocle and smoothed a make-believe mustache. 

Pam just glared. “That’s quite the most idiotic show on TV now, you know. Well, just look at it: He’s a professor … and he’s a fool? Think about that for a moment, prof.” 

Kay scratched his head, now very much like Sponge Bob, momentarily at a loss for good words. Kay was a movie buff of buffs. Nearly his whole life philosophy was a mish-mash of several films and Television shows. 

“Anyway, what has tying one’s hair in a chi-whatever! - got to do with anything?” Isabella asked impatiently. 

Kay brightened, back on firmer footing. It was so disconcerting to be upstaged by his 12-year-old younger sister. Lately, it had been happening too frequently for a certain level of ego comfort. He made a mental note to double- no triple, his daily vitamin intake. Should he add five more pushups to that, also? 

In his head, he began to count, as he imaginarily strained his widely celebrated muscles, hardly sweating: 26, 27, 34, 39…! Photographers and video bloggers stood to one side, silent in admiration, unobtrusively recording everything with the latest Devices, making sure not to disturb his concentration… 40, 65, 84! 

Then he caught Isabella’s narrowed eyes. Kay came back to earth with an almost audible thump. Time to instruct the young un, he surmised. He started to go into his best Prof Tom Foolery poise, then hurriedly let it slide into a casual Chris Hemsworth Lounge. One never went wrong with cool Chris. Wasn’t Thor Ragnarok proof enough? 

“Well, now, lassy,’ he drawled, “On occasion, you do that daily, see, you create continuous tension in your hair, and pretty soon, those hairs begin to separate from their wee follicles.” 

Isabella glared at him. 

“I’m not going to ask what that means, so you’d better tell me- swiftly!” Kay grinned unrepentantly. 

“A follicle is the root of individual hair strands. I thought you do Biology in school.” 

“We haven’t done the skin.” Isabella grumbled peevishly, “Anyway, back to my problem. I won’t catch my hair in a… a… a bun again. But now what is to be done? I can’t go bald at twelve! I won’t! Do something!” 

Kay jumped off the bed. An extremely intelligent boy, his Sunday school teacher said Kay’s greatest failing was his absolute refusal to do anything above the barest minimum necessary. However, for his little sister, he made quite an effort from time to time. 

Kay stood undecided for a heartbeat, then dived on Isabella with a Zulu-Warrior-style whoop. He darted a hand to her hair and yanked off the rubber band that held her hair together. The band snapped with a loud bang. 

“Ouch’, yelped Bella, “What on earth did you do that for? That hurt!” Kay stared. “D-d-duh? Trying to save your hairline, recollect? 

“Didn’t need to half-kill me first,” Isabella grumbled, rubbing the spot furiously, releasing a shower of soft hair. She looked crossly at Kay. “Now see what you’ve made me do.” 

Kay put on a thoughtful expression. 

“Hmmn. Tricky problem, that. Well, when in doubt, see big sister wise. Come on, let’s talk to Jenny.” 

The two children exited Isabella’s bedroom. 

The house was fairly large, the standard 4-bedroom quarters for a senior lecturer at the State University. The two made their way through silent corridors; Kay, lingering around the kitchen with its persuasive aromas until he was chased out by Mama, their in-house cook cum housekeeper, and then past the dining area to the living room.

Their big sister, Jennifer, was there with a friend, Tinu, both absorbed in a movie on the large flat TV mounted on one wall. Both girls were sixteen. 

“Hi, Jenny, hi Tinu.” Kay greeted, throwing himself on a chair. Kay never actually did anything simply. He wolfed down food. Gulped his drinks. His mother said he appeared to be constantly late for something. This with a very weary shake of her head. 

Jennifer picked up the remote control and changed the channel on the TV. “Hey!’ Kay protested, ‘that looked awesome.” 

Jennifer looked at him with all the superiority of her three extra years. “It is … very;” Kay rubbed his hands, “All right! Hit that button again, if you will, big Sis!”

Jennifer smiled like the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland, “It’s also PG 16, lil bro, so ask me again in about say … oh, three years, right?” 

Jennifer and Tinu giggled. Kay scowled into his chin. “Girls,” he muttered to himself. When he became head of the Global Intergalactic force … A vision of himself in a shiny red space suit swam across Kay’s eyes. Girls in wayyy less glamorous suits crowded around him, attending to his every command. Jenny and Tinu stood on the fringes of the crowd, waving at him, but he didn’t even deign to look at them. 

Isabella muttered a worried hello and slumped morosely on the settee. Jennifer glanced at Isabella. 

“Hey, Bellyho, not looking cheery at all. What’s up?” 

Kay beamed down from the Intergalactic Space Station with a reluctant sigh. 

“She’s kind of going bald, and it’s really bugging her,” Kay stated matter-of-factly, “That’s why we’ve come. Need an ASAP solution to this one.” 

Jennifer and Tinu giggled, saw Isabella’s glare, and frowned gloomily. “Going bald at twelve,” Jennifer observed, “Not good, nope, not so cool at all.” Bella looked from one to the other. “And?” 

“I read about a friend of mine on Facebook who had the same problem two years ago,” Tinu started, “But she was seventeen at the time.” 

Bella perked up. “Seventeen is close enough. How did she fix it?” 

Tinu looked uncomfortable, “Err, she –er- basically just found a way around.” 

“Let me guess,” Kay said, “Cyborg Alter Ego. Now people don’t know it’s not really her. Looks like her, talks like her, walks like-” 

“Kay!” Bella frowned fiercely. She turned to Tinu, all attention, “Yes, Tinu? What did she do?” 

Tinu didn’t look so happy. “Hmnn, okay, first she kind of looked at her options. Be bald and look, well, bald; or be bald and look truly dope. Anyway, she lives in England, so she kind of got into rock n’ roll, heavy metal stuff. Not that she liked it, but she then had a cool excuse for shaving off all of her hair. She goes around bare as an egg now. And she’s cool too.” 

Bella stared at Tinu open-mouthed. She touched her hair unconsciously, imagining it all shaved off. 

“I think you would also have to paint half of your skull bright green and the other half … orange,” Tinu finished apologetically. 

Bella shuddered convulsively. Kay flashed a crafty grin. Jennifer looked at Tinu and wiggled her left eyebrow, which in girl-speak meant: Hey! Not helping! Tinu shrugged and wiggled her right eyebrow: Free me! I tried! Jennifer sighed. She knew what was coming next. 

From the corner of one eye, she saw Kay glance at the boring TV screen. He then craned his neck to better see the remote control nestled against Jennifer’s right leg. Kay tensed, getting ready to spring. Jennifer casually picked up the remote and then placed it on the other side of the chair, well out of Kay’s reach. Kay deflated like a bad tire. Jennifer shook her head at him, smiling sweetly. Gotcha, lil bro! Kay began to scowl grumpily, then he laughed out loud instead. He was actually a merry boy who could take it as well as dish it out. And Jenny’s move had been pure magic. 

Bella turned to Jennifer. She tried to smile bravely at her older sister but failed. Her voice when she spoke was very tiny. 

“What do I do, Jen? You are absolutely my last hope.” 

“Hi, Lord Jesus,” Kay grinned at Jenny, “So pleased to finally meet you. And you a girl too! Wow! What’s your App called? Same J, different face?” 

“Will you stop interrupting? This is serious!” yelled Bella, finally exasperated.

Jenny grimaced and looked at Isabella. 

“Can’t say I’ve come across such a –er- unique problem before. Not impossible, of course … just … really different. I’ve read about and seen bearded women, but bald ones and at twelve too…” she shrugged helplessly. 

A knock sounded on the door. It opened, and Kay’s friends, Tekoa and Hammed, walked in. Isabella watched in frustrated impatience as the two visitors and her brother went through the silly ritualistic palm-slapping that passed for young male mutual bonding. 

“Hi everybody,” Hammed finally said. He was a cheerful boy of Kay’s age, a smile constantly on his aquiline face. He and Kay made a perfect team for many infamous pranks at school. “What’s the conference for?” 

“Finally, someone notices,” muttered Bella darkly. 

“Bella’s going bald,” Jenny explained. Bella shot her a glare. Jenny raised a hand of peace with a smile. “We are trying to find a solution.” 

Tekoa and Hammed began to laugh; they coughed and hiccupped to halt mid-spring when Bella shot a really grim look their way. 

“Er … peculiar … er, problem.” Hammed offered. He nudged Tekoa to supply his bit. 

“Really … er, uhh, umm… peculiar…” Tekoa ended lamely. He was the pacifier of the group of friends. He was more round than straight with an almost permanent look of bewilderedness on his chubby face. 

“And the award for telling us what we already know -twice- goes to…” Isabella’s gaze dripped with scorn. The two hung their heads, and then Hammed’s lips trembled in the beginnings of a smile, maybe even a laugh. Tekoa jumped in hastily. 

“A friend of my uncle’s had a problem with his hair once,” Tekoa began, “It was his beard, it wouldn’t grow, and his friends drove him crazy with jibes about him being too young to trip with them. He tried lots of things to get a beard without success until someone told him about mentholated spirit.” 

“And it worked?” Kay leaned forward eagerly. 

“Well, sort of…” 

“What happened?” Bella asked, voice hushed. 

“Well, three really long hairs grew slowly out of his chin, and kept growing… and growing…” 

“Just the three?” Asked Jenny. 

“One, two, three … that was it. Anyway, afterward, his friends almost teased him to death. So he plucked them off. His chin’s not exactly been too busy ever since.” 

“Thanks a lot. Heap big help you are.” Bella slid deeper into the settee and her depression. The room stayed silent for a while, her despondency affecting everyone. Suddenly, Jenny jerked upright. 

“Okay, everyone. Chin up and phones out. Let’s browse this one out.”

Everyone visibly cheered up at the news. Phones came out of pockets. Some old, some new. Some large, others small. Tinu took a shiny new tablet from her bag. Kay whistled and held out both hands. 

“Come to Papa, sweet thing! Let me show you the world. Or at least the World Wide Web.” 

Tinu laughed, “No can do, Kay. My grandma sent this for my birthday last week. The default setting is still ‘See, don’t Touch’.” She kissed the device with a loud smack. 

Jennifer was swiping swiftly on her phone screen. “Okay, Google, ChatGPT, Facebook, Wikipedia, Wikihow, Naijathread; if it’s online, you can go there. Let’s make my baby sister happy, people. You see anything helpful, you yell snap. ” 

Everyone peered at their screens. Fingers flew over keypads, real and virtual. 

“Snap!” went Tekoa almost immediately. Heads swiveled to him. “Facebook,” he continued, “A group for bald people. Called … let us see, oh, Bald and Hairpful … I think they mean hopeful.” 

“What do they do?” Jennifer asked. 

“Huh?” Tekoa responded. 

Tinu took up the inquiry, “What’s their gig? Are they about looking for a cure, offering advice, that kind of thing?” 

Tekoa looked a little confused, “I think they are just people being bald together on FB.” 

Jennifer smiled at him, “Good try, Tekoa, but I think we are looking for more practical solutions, not … well, you know.” 

“Hairpful folks,” Bella put in icily, “And just in case you missed it, I am not bald –yet.” 

Tekoa nodded, head way down. “Got it.” 

“Snap! Wikipedia! Something about Gene therapy.” 

“Is it any good?” 

“Very good! Err … If you’re a millionaire … in the USA. It costs about a million US dollars.” 

Everyone sighed, “Guess we’ll be saving our Nairas then.” 

“Snap! Some blog. Hair Cloning. This is it. Yes, yes.” 

“Let’s hear more then!” 

“Weelll, emm…” 

“Come on, we are waiting.” 

“Well, it is kind of … still being researched. They hope they can have it ready in five years.” 

“Next!” 

“Snap! McDonald's French Fries cure baldness.” 

“What?” 

“Hee hee. Believe it or don’t.” 

“Well, I don’t. Tell us more.” 

“Okay, here goes. Turns out this chemical called … dimethylpolysiloxane - found in the oil of McDonald's French Fries can really cure baldness… ” 

“Really? Go on!” 

“Ohh, it appears this dimethylpolysiloxane can also be found in sunscreen and …er nail polish… ” 

“Nail po …? Just finish already!” 

“Yeah, and well, so far it’s been tried only on rats. The rats did grow some fur, though. Not much, but every little bit counts, eh?” 

“I have one response to that: RATS!” 

“Not to mention, we’ll have to go to Morocco to get the fries. No McDonald's in good ol’ Naija yet, homeboy.” 

“Didn’t I already say Rats?” 

“Snap! Chinese herbal treatment for hair loss.” 

“Snap! Hair supplements and vitamins.” 

“Snap! Snap! Snap! Oh, just forget it!” 

One after the other, the young people in the room quit the browsers on their phones and devices. Soon, no one at all was still looking for a solution online. Jennifer was the last to give up. Everyone was strangely silent. Jennifer looked at Bella. 

“I am truly sorry, Bella, but there doesn’t seem to be a cure for baldness just now.” 

Bella looked at Jennifer, then around at the others. She stood up. In a shaky voice, she said, “Thank you, everyone.” She tried to add something else, but she seemed to choke. She turned and ran from the room. All the kids in the room looked down at their laps. Kay heaved a sad sigh. Even he knew when not to make a wisecrack.

THE DINING Room of the Ohieris was lit with the soft glow of overhead chandeliers. Dinner was an important daily family obligation in this home. Everyone usually pitched in to lay the table and bring in the food. This night, Ubi was home for a few days. He was the eldest of the Ohieri siblings at 18. The magic year, as far as Kay was concerned. Ubi was visiting from his University some forty kilometers away. 

Mrs. Ohieris smiled at Ubi. 

“Will you say prayers, please, dear?” 

“No wahala, Mum. Eyes shut and hands clasped piously in front of you, everyone, please.” 

Kay grinned. Many of his friends had brothers who became unbearably stuffy once they got into University but Ubi was still all right. Ubi cleared his throat as everyone shut their eyes and clasped their hands together. Their Mum was already regretting asking him. 

“Dear LORD. This is really groovy food, and we, one and all, thank YOU. Amen.” Everyone echoed the Amen. Their mother looked in some surprise at Ubi. 

“That was quite good, Ubi. Short … but okay. Most unusual. University is maturing you, it seems.” 

“I am saving the good stuff for Christmas, Mum,” Ubi said with a laugh. He raised his hand for a high-five with Kay. Their mother looked steadily at her laughing boys. She did hope Kay would settle down soon, like Ubi appeared to have done. Many gray strands in her hair now, she knew, were because of some legendary past shenanigans by her firstborn. 

Then she noticed Jennifer on her phone at dinner- again. She remembered with nostalgia her own growing-up days. And her dearest Mother thought she was a handful? 

“Jennifer-” 

“Just a smiley to go, Mum … there! What’s for dinner?” Jenny looked up with a laugh, putting away her phone. She noticed Bella was chin in hand, pushing her food in white circles of mayonnaise across her plate. 

“Hey, Bellyho, you still need to eat, you know.” 

Mum looked at Bella. “What is the matter, dear?” 

Bella muttered something under her breath. Dad, who was nearest to her, leaned closer. 

“What? I couldn’t make it out. Something about being bad? Did you do something your mum and I should know about?” he frowned. 

Bella’s head jerked up, and she glared at her father. “Not bad, Dad, bald! B-A-L-D! I am going bald, and I am only twelve. And you and Mum would notice if you paid more attention to me!” 

Dinner stopped. Mum stared in dismay at Bella. 

“Why, sweetheart, of course, I have noticed you are losing some hair at your front, but I would hardly call that going bald.” 

“Nothing wrong with baldness,” Dad muttered, “In fact adds some character to a man’s visage, you know. Better than these so-called punk haircuts everywhere. Runs in my family, so that’s where you get it from naturally.” 

Bella stared aghast at Dad, “Baldness runs in your family?” She was greatly shaken. “And you tell me now, Daddy?” 

Mum smiled in amusement, “Well, when should your father have told you, Isabella?” 

“Before now!” Yelled Bella, “Maybe before I was born. He didn’t give me a choice!” 

Mum paused, knife close to her mouth. Her eyebrows were raised, “You mean GOD? Bella pointed a shaky spoon at her Dad. ”I mean him. So I could maybe choose another-” 

“Isabella,” Mum said in her really quiet voice. Bella stopped abruptly in mid-rant. Everyone knew Mum only used that tone when she was really upset. Mum looked at Bella steadily. 

“I know you feel this is bad, but it’s really not that serious. Moreover, lots of teenage girls experience some hair loss when they are growing up. It’s quite normal, actually.” 

“I am not a teenager, Mum,” cried Bella, close to tears, “I am twelve, and I am going baldddd! Is this normal?” 

Bella shook her head angrily like a great shaggy sheepdog. Hair flew all over the table, into the fish stew, and onto everybody’s plates. Kay stared in open-mouthed astonishment. This was a super show! Some popcorn and Bella could charge for tickets. He would be tickets collector, of course. 

Mum looked at the extra-long strand of hair on her rice. She quietly placed her napkin on the table. She looked calmly at Bella. Bella was staring in shock at everyone’s ruined dinner. 

“I am so sorry, Mum,” she whispered in a very small voice, truly mortified now. She lowered her head. Tears began to roll down her cheeks. Dad sighed and put down his fork. He hated tears, especially Bella’s tears, the most. He reached over and patted Bella’s head gently.

“Okay, that’s quite enough, Onyinyechi,” he said gruffly, using his special name for her. 

Bella sniffed a little and peeked at her Mum. There was a forgiving look on her Mum’s face. Which meant Bella wasn’t in big trouble. She suspected her chores would double the next morning, but that was totally all right. She would rather do ten million additional chores than fight with her Mum. 

“I am really sorry, everyone,” Bella said, almost cheerfully. She looked at her father, ”And of course, I love being in your family, Daddy.” 

Dad winked at her, smiling. Ubi pushed away his plate, “I had fish yesterday anyway.” 

Jennifer rose. “I’ll see if I can whip up something from yesterday’s leftovers.” She smiled at Bella and disappeared towards the kitchen. Mum looked gravely at Bella. 

“Now, I am all ears, young Lady. What do we do about this bad hair day? Okay, looks more like several days…” 

“Zilch, according to Google,” Kay replied gloomily. 

Bella looked at him sourly, “Zeech?” Kay groaned, “You were there too, Bella. What did we get? Zilllch. Zero.” He looked at his Mum, “And we were online for hours all day.” 

“And found nothing to help?” This was Dad. Dad was a Pathologist and Microbiologist and conducted countless experiments every year. Bella still couldn’t understand what he did, despite Kay’s several gesticulations-assisted explanations.

“Impossible. I do 90% of my research on the Internet.” Dad went on, “Everything is on the web. And, with AI these days, the net simply never fails.”  

“God never fails, dearest.” Mum smiled at Dad, “Wives and Mums too, I suspect. The Internet? You will be amazed to know how often it does come up short. It’s far easier to find something on Microbiology online,” Mum continued, “than simple everyday things like say an old Efik recipe your mother taught you and you now want to pass on to your daughters. I have tried dozens of times.” 

Mum shook her head, “The Internet looks at some things as more important than others. And the less important are usually not so well represented.” She looked at Bella, “Have you tried to look for something offline, dear?” 

“Offline?” echoed Bella. “What’s that?” 

“The world outside the Internet, Bella.” Her mother laughed, “People, books, even television, and radio. Everyone is so Internet-absorbed these days, we forget there are other sources of information.” She looked at her family quietly, “Which, by the way, are dying rapidly because of so much general neglect.” 

Mum gazed afar off whimsically, toying with the rim of her water glass, lost in thought. Kay squirmed uncomfortably. He was always a little bothered when his Mum looked sad. She was a Secondary School teacher at the government girls’ college in town and was often canvassing for some improvement or the other. One holiday, she had made him walk all week with his T-Shirt neatly tucked in. All because she had seen a trending Nigerian Hip-Hop music video. 

“One thing I can think of, though,” Mum went on, smiling again, “is the library.”

“The Library? School is closed for the holidays, Mum.” Kay said. 

“I know that, dear. I meant the large state Library up in town. It’s got thousands of pages of reading material. There’s bound to be a helpful book or magazine or something there.” 

Bella sat up. “Good, great, awesome idea!” 

“It’s unfortunate that your Dad and I have to take Jennifer to her new school day after tomorrow. I would have liked to come with you. But you can start on your own, and I’ll join you when we return.” She smiled at them. 

Kay scraped his chair back, “I’ll get our shoes and some money.” 

Their mother laughed, “I think you two had better give it a few more hours.” “Huh?” Bella mumbled. Her Mum pointed at the open window. 

“It’s still night, sweetheart. I know that usually doesn’t stop you both,” Mum shook her head ruefully, “but I am presuming the Library staff is also probably eating dinner at home with their families right now.” 

Bella silently slapped her forehead. Kay stared dumbly at the window as if he had never seen night before. Everyone had a good laugh. 

The next day by noon, Bella, Kay, Hammed, and Tekoa were in a yellow and green taxi speeding towards the State library in Bida Road. Bella wore a bright-colored cap to hide her hairline. About them, Kaduna City was busily colorful as usual. Painted career girls, saucy students, determined soldiers, flamboyant salespeople, and energetic traffic policemen who never seemed to make a mistake with their flying hands encased in white gloves. 

The taxi disgorged the four children before the white gates of the library and crawled away. 

They trooped into the old building. It was sadly obvious that not many people came there anymore. The Library had a hushed look about it, as if it were holding its breath as it waited for its interior to be filled with the reading public once again. The Reception Desk was manned by a single, bespectacled lady. She answered their greetings with a bright smile and a nod. 

“We’d like to know where we can get books about hair, please,” Kay said politely. “What kind of hair?” replied the Receptionist. 

“Are there more than one kind of hair?” Tekoa asked, eyes round. 

“Of course! Lots! There’s hare, a fast-running, long-eared mammal that resembles a large rabbit, having very long hind legs and typically found in grassland or open woodland; there’s hair, any of the fine thread-like strands growing from the skin of humans, mammals, and some other animals, made from dead cells which serve as covering for skin; there’s heir, also pronounced air, a person legally entitled to the property or rank of another on that person's death.” She waved her hands abstractly, “lots and lots more! Which are you interested in?” 

The children all blinked, as impressed as they were surprised. Hammed leaned forward carefully, “Er, hair: any of the fine thread-like strands growing from the skin of humans, mammals, and some other animals, made from dead cells which serve as covering for skin.” 

“Capital!” She beamed at Hammed. “Good! All right, what do we have here …” 

She consulted an ancient computer monitor, which whined and groaned before her. “Here it is; Hair: any of the fine thread-like strands growing from the skin of humans, mammals, and some other animals, made from dead cells which serve as covering for skin. Upstairs, shelves twenty-two and twenty-three.” 

“Thank you so much,” Kay said. 

“Have a fun read!” 

They climbed the concrete and metal stairs and made for the advised shelves through the few bowed heads and hunched shoulders. The room was only about a quarter full, mostly older-looking men and women. The four youngsters separated, descending excitedly on the neat rows of books, and books, and books. 

“All these books are about just hair?” breathed Bella. 

“Here’s one that sounds interesting,” Kay whispered. 

“What does it say?’ Bella asked in a return whisper. 

“Grow exotic hair, by Shashi Singh. Uhmm, Indian, I think.” 

“No thanks. I’ve seen Medusa’s hair in that old movie, ‘Clash of the Titans.’ I don’t want any living thing growing out of my head.” 

“I’ve got one that is just spot on,” Hammed walked over, “How to prevent baldness-” 

“All right!” Bella enthused, “Go on!” 

“For middle-aged men.” 

Bella scowled. Hammed shrugged. 

“You can’t miss with this!” Tekoa waved a blue book excitedly, “The ABC of long, supple, full, strong hair!” 

Bella’s gaze was full of suspicion. “For Gorillas?” 

Tekoa sighed like a martyr. “For adolescent girls. Do I go on?”

“Please do,” Bella murmured. 

Tekoa cleared his throat, “Our hair is one of GOD’s most precious gifts to us, and is a most beautiful and treasured asset. Extreme care must be taken in the care of it, for the tiniest mistake can result in a catastrophe that neither this Author nor anyone else can correct…” 

Bella sighed as she watched Tekoa silently return the book to its shelf. They kept on with the search for another hour. However, nothing else proved interesting. All the books on hair were either too impractical or were not written for young girls. It was a most dispirited group that walked back downstairs. The friendly Receptionist smiled when she saw them. 

“Hi, there. Did you have a good read?” 

“Yes, thank you, Ma,” Hammed replied, “I can’t say we found what we are after, sadly.” 

“Oh?” She raised a penciled eyebrow, “How unfortunate. Anyway, I am sure you young things will be hitting the Internet soon enough. Google. You know what? I would change my job here with one at Google in a flash, you know. Google knows everything, doesn’t it?” 

“Not this time, it doesn’t,” Bella disagreed, “Been there and done that. Google came up zeros.” 

“How peculiar,” the Receptionist frowned, “most unlike Google.” 

Kay shrugged dispiritedly, “Well, thank you for all your help.” 

The Lady smiled at him, “I am supposed to say, ‘thanks, do call again, but I don’t suppose there’s much of a chance of that, eh?” 

“That’s a really big N and a very little o,” Kay replied with a grin. The Receptionist laughed. Bella turned her back on the desk and wandered out of the reception area to just outside the entrance. She paused for a while, waiting for the others to catch up. 

She noticed an elderly cleaning lady down the driveway of the library, struggling to lift a large dustpan on her head. Bella watched for a few seconds and then concluded the woman would never be able to lift the pan to her head without some assistance. She hurried over. 

“Good afternoon, Mama,” Bella greeted the woman, “Do you need some help with that?” 

The old woman looked at Bella suspiciously. She looked like a Hausa lady of 70 years or thereabouts. Her face was a spiderweb of deeply etched lines on her very dark face. Bella wondered why such an old woman was still working. Nigerian families usually took care of their elderly. She tried to avoid looking into the queerly sharp eyes of the woman. 

When the woman didn’t immediately respond, Bella repeated the question, adding a hand gesture to indicate the dustpan. The old woman probably didn’t speak English. She was about to repeat it all when the woman abruptly nodded. 

“Yes, you may help if you like.”

Bella was astonished at the clear voice and the precise diction. The old woman sounded like an English professor. The woman looked at Bella with an amused glint in her keen dark eyes. 

“Surprised to hear an old Hausa Lady speak good English?” she asked Bella. 

Bella averted her eyes in embarrassment, stammering a half-formed denial. The woman waved it away. 

“I used to be the chief Librarian here. 35 years I worked inside that building.” She pointed at the library with her sharp chin. “Now I am retired, but the Library let me keep my old quarters. There is a new modern building further inside the compound for the current Chief.” 

“Wow,” Bella said with a laugh, “I did wonder. But wouldn’t you rather stay with your family?” 

A wistful look covered the woman’s eyes, making them softer. 

“My husband died almost fifteen years ago. And we never had children. You know what they say when a woman has no children, I am sure.” She looked at Bella piercingly. The eyes were now as hard and sharp as before. Bella was startled at the hurt and anger in them. She shook her head quickly. 

“No, not really.”  

“Well, they say … what’s your name, girl?” she asked impatiently. 

“Isabella. But everyone calls me Bella most times.”

“I certainly won’t; what’s the point of having such a pretty name and throwing half of it away. The prettiest half too, I dare add. If it was good enough for the Queen of Spain, it’s good enough for me. Isabella is just fine.” 

Bella laughed. What a strange old lady. She did say the oddest things. “You still haven’t told me what they say,” she reminded the woman. The old woman’s eyes grew angry again. Her voice was much harsher when she spoke. 

“They call you a witch, Isabella. They say you kept away your children by sorcery, and your husband probably died because you traded in his life to make yours longer. So now, I live alone.” 

She stared at Bella as she finished. Bella frowned indignantly. 

“Why would anyone say such a horrible, wicked thing? It’s not kind at all.” 

The woman considered Bella for a moment. Something in the little girl must have convinced her of Bella’s earnestness because the soft look stole over her eyes again. The old woman nodded brusquely. 

“I guess the world has become very adept at being unkind.” She abruptly gestured at the dustpan filled with rubbish and dry leaves. “Okay, help.” 

“Oh, yes, of course. I completely forgot that.”

Bella bent to lift the pan. The old woman did the same. When the old woman would have directed the full pan to her head, Bella reversed it onto her own head. She smiled at the startled woman. 

“I guess I am too young to be your daughter, Mama, but for five minutes I can be your granddaughter.” 

The old woman stared at Bella in some surprise. Bella could see the beginnings of tears in the no-longer-hard eyes. The woman smiled, which transformed all the deep wrinkles on her face into happy, laugh lines. She touched Bella’s hand. 

“GOD bless you, Granddaughter. The compost heap is this way … and by the way, I am Kanuri, not Hausa. There’s a world of difference. People are always too impatient to appreciate that.” 

The old Kanuri Lady led Bella back towards the entrance of the library. Kay came out of the entrance just as they got there. He gaped in shock to see Bella following an old woman, carrying a dirty dustpan on her head. Kay rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing properly. Bella saw him and chuckled. Kay took two quick steps to her. 

“What’s happening?” He whispered, looking in trepidation at the old woman’s back a few feet ahead. “Why are you carrying refuse and following an old woman that looks like a-” 

“Don’t you dare!” Bella’s eyes flashed dangerously. “I am only helping carry some stuff. The pan was too heavy for her. ” 

The old woman glanced back, saw Kay, and some of the hardness crept back into her eyes. She looked away and kept walking.

Kay whispered on, “What absolutely marble-like eyes. I am coming along.” 

“You would have those kinds of eyes too if people were always mean to you,” Bella whispered back. She shrugged, “Where are the others?” 

“Still with the Receptionist. She’s telling them all sorts of things. She is totally fun.” 

They got to the compost heap. The old woman looked at Bella and gestured at the heap, her eyes glancing at Kay in a not-too-friendly manner. Bella upended the contents of the pan on the heap. She placed the empty pan on the ground and rubbed her neck. 

“Phew! That’s a relief.” 

“Thank you, Isabella,” said the woman curtly. Kay’s eyes widened at the old woman’s use of Bella’s name. The old woman noticed but chose to ignore Kay. She picked up the empty pan and began to turn away. Bella hesitated, then stepped forward. 

“Err … Mama,” 

The woman turned. 

“Yes, Isabella?” 

“I was wondering. Actually, I came to the library with my brother…” she indicated Kay. The woman’s eyes darted to Kay and darted back. There was a small let-up in the hardness of her eyes. Encouraged, Bella plowed on, “err, and some friends in search of something … some information. We weren’t very successful.” 

The old woman stayed silent, watching Bella. Occasionally, her eyes rested briefly on Kay. Kay’s fingers itched to cross themselves. He held them still with an effort. 

Bella continued, “I thought since you were the chief librarian for so long, you probably know those shelves better than anyone. Perhaps you could tell me where to find what I am looking for.” 

The old woman smiled faintly.

“And what would that be, young Isabella?” 

“A cure for baldness,” Kay interjected.

The old woman barely looked at Kay. Her eyes, gazing at Isabella, had a questioning look. Bella looked down forlornly.

“It’s true. I seem to be growing bald. All my front hair is almost gone.” She took off her cap to show the old woman. The latter came closer to gaze at the tufts of hair along Bella’s hairline. The old woman had a thoughtful look in her eyes. 

“There’s no real cure for baldness.” 

“So Google says,” Bella sighed. 

The old woman snorted, “Google! What people don’t understand is that you cannot cram several thousand years of human civilization into something less than twenty years old. Some things inevitably get lost.” Her eyes acquired a distant look. “Come with me, please.” 

She turned and headed down a narrow path bordered by a flowering hedge. Bella followed, as did Kay. The old woman looked back at Kay. She snorted once more. 

“I suppose any brother of Isabella’s is also welcome in my home.” 

Bella smiled. The old woman walked on. Bella and then Kay followed, and this time Kay did cross his fingers. 

THE OLD woman’s home was a small, neat affair, though very ancient in design. Books lined the walls and were carefully laid on floors and tables. Kay looked around with round eyes. 

“I have never seen so many books in one room before,” he declared. 

The old woman eyed him. “I suppose it would be too much to expect one of your generation to read anything other than those shocking vampire novels so popular now.” 

Kay bristled. Was she questioning his total passion for books? Why, his mother said Kay had been born with a book in each hand. Everyone knew he was aces at novels, comics, and even magazines. His eyes caught a number of past literary conquests of his among the books lying around. 

Kay pointed at a red, leather-bound volume of Silas Marner. “In the days when the spinning wheels hummed busily in the farmhouses-” he quoted, “and even great ladies, clothed in silk and thread-lace, had their toy spinning wheels of polished oak-” 

The woman looked faintly surprised. “Silas Marner. And not abridged either.” Her eyes narrowed contemplatively, “Go on.” She said. And so did Kay. Robinson Crusoe. Things Fall Apart. Lamb Tales from Shakespeare. To Kill a Mockingbird. Quote after quote fell from Kay’s lips. Kay could be very clever when he chose to be. Twenty minutes later, the old woman stood smiling even more at Kay than she had at Bella earlier. 

“What is your name, Isabella’s brother?”

“His name is Kay,” Bella offered, a little out of temper that Kay was apparently about to steal her new friend. Friend? Try new super granny from another mother- or great, grandmother. 

The old woman snorted, “No one goes to all the trouble of having a child and then calls him Kay. What is your name really?” 

“Kanu,” Kay said, then added belligerently, “But I like it when I am called Kay. It’s kind of way cooler.” 

The old woman smiled even more widely, “If you say so. Kay, it is then.” Bella’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. 

“Would you both like something to drink? I have some kunu and freshly made kuli kuli too if you care for that.” 

Both siblings nodded. She turned to go. Over her shoulder, she said: 

“Kay, since we are all friends now, and there’s still no witch in sight, I suppose it’s safe for you to uncross your fingers now. It’s a wonder you don’t have cramps already.” She went away, chuckling at hs astounded look. 

Ten minutes later, the two siblings, now joined by the others, were all sipping cold drinks of Kunu and munching crunchy Kuli Kuli, a local snack made from pounded groundnuts. Mama, as everyone called her now, was rummaging in a corner, a pair of ancient prescription glasses perched on the tip of her beak of a nose.

“At last,” she muttered. She turned around then, coming to sit close to Bella. In her hands was an old, thick notebook. It was not so much dusty as really worn. She looked up at Bella as she began to thumb through the notebook carefully, pursing her lips as she looked at the spidery writing inside. 

“I kept a kind of personal record of all the important books that came in while I was in charge. I seem to recollect one in particular that you may find helpful. Provided it’s still on the shelves, obviously.” 

For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard were those of soft paper pages being turned and dwindling crunching. 

“Aha. Just like I remember.” Mama looked at Bella, “Go to shelf 54, row 3.” “What am I looking for?” Bella was mystified. 

“Oh, simple really: ‘What is what, and who is who in Nigeria’. 31st edition. I think you will find one entry most enlightening.” 

TEN MINUTES later, Kay was facing Bella with a large, leather-bound volume in his hands. They were back in the library. Nothing much seemed to have changed. Same elderly people reading quietly. 

“Is that it?” Bella asked without much enthusiasm. 

“I guess. The title is right anyway. ‘What is what, and who is who in Nigeria.’ It looks like a kind of old Encyclopedia Nigeria. Published 2005. It doesn’t look very promising. Maybe Mama’s memories are not as good as she thinks.” 

Bella nodded, uncertain. The book truly didn’t look that great up close. If the Internet couldn’t hack it, how could this old scroll? But then the Bible was old also, and people still read it all the time, didn’t they? 

“Reading it won’t further shorten my hair, I suppose,” she replied dubiously. She was a very disillusioned adolescent at this point. 

“Let’s have a look then,” Kay said. 

It was indeed an old encyclopedia on a Nigerian scale. It gave information on and about everything. From great Statesmen to Garri. Kay slowly flipped past pages. 

“Bingo!” Kay screamed suddenly. The whole room went ssshhh, like one giant angry snake. 

“What’s wrong with you? “ His younger sister whispered fiercely, “This is a library! A libraryyyy! And anyway, whatever did you see that robbed you so utterly of your senses?” 

"This, this, this!" Kay whispered, shutting his eyes and jabbing his index finger repeatedly and excitedly on the white page. Bella and the others leaned forward. The article was tucked into the lower left side of a right page. It read: 

Foremost amongst acclaimed green fingers in Nigeria is the Wase district in Jos, Plateau state phenomenon, who goes by the name of Hassan Gwarzo Karagirma. A green finger with a distinctive difference, H.G. Karagirma's powers are fabled to be effective on not just plants, but virtually every living thing! 

His list of successes includes the eradication of dwarfism in his home village and the total lack of bald heads amongst the elderly male population around Wase. Plants in his immediate environment are world famous for their near-gigantic size and health. 

H.G. Karagirma lives in the plateaus of the Wase district of Jos, from where he runs his incredible business. 

Bella gazed rapturously at the page, fingering the scanty fringe around her hairline. 

"A green finger with a distinctive difference," she breathed tremulously, "effective on virtually every living thing ... total lack of bald heads... H.G. Karagi- Kargi..."She turned helplessly to Hammed, "Hammed, that's a Hausa name, isn't it?" 

"That's right," 

"Well, I can't say it right. What’s the English translation of Karagiri ... his name?" 

Hammed frowned thoughtfully. "Karagirma. Added growth. Increased height," he shrugged, "Grow more?" 

"Perfect!" Isabella cried, "Grow more! How appropriate, Hassan Gwarzo Growmore. H.G. Growmore!" 

"Don't forget he's in Jos and you'll have to find him first," Tekoa put in, "And his address isn't very specific to start with, not to mention how old the book is, so don't get carried away.” 

Bella put on an agonized expression, "I have to find him! This morning, when I was combing my hair, it was like a rainstorm! Soon, H.G. Growmore himself won't be able to help. " 

Kay looked sagaciously up at the ceiling, stroking his chin, "Hmnn," he went, "Hmmmnnn." 

"Stop hmmning and say something!" Bella yelled, "My hairline is in peril!" 

The room began to go ssshhh again; they saw Bella's glower, and everyone hurriedly buried their heads under their books. 

“Let us find out more about this… Growmore first,” said Hammed, pulling out his phone and beginning to type. “Now we have a definite name to search, it should be easier.” 

Everyone crowded around him. Soon, a search results page popped up on the phone screen. Hammed followed the most suitable link, and soon they were staring with bated breaths at an all-green website. H.G. KARAGIRMA GROWTH SERVICES, it said in a happy yellow font. 

“Now I see why we couldn’t find it earlier. He grows everything. Not just hair, which is what we were searching for.” 

“Just read,” begged Bella, straining her neck to see past Tekoa’s rather large head. 

Most of the website was just a repeat of the book. However, there were pictures, oh, such lovely pictures of tall trees and vegetables, huge livestock … and oh, goodness … hair! Lots of hair piled on the heads of lucky women and girls. Bella wriggled in great exhilaration.

Kay saw a phone number for BOOKINGS. He quickly dialed it on his small phone. It rang just once, and then a cool, articulate female voice was on. 

“Hello, this is Hassan Gwarzo Karagirma Growth Services. How may we be of assistance to you, please?” 

Kay gaped in silence, flummoxed by the so professional delivery. 

“Hello? Are you still there?” the lovely voice inquired. Bella stared at him. “Say sssomething, Kay!” she hissed in a whisper. Kay came back with a jump. 

“Y-Yes,” he stuttered to a start, “I would like to make some inquiries, please.” Kay put the phone on speaker so everyone could hear. He turned the volume down in deference to the reading guests in the room.  

“All right, Sir. You would like to make an appointment to see Mr Karagirma, I take it?” 

Bella nodded quickly at Kay. Kay shook his head. As if he needed guidance. He had frozen for a second or two, but he was rather okay now. In his mind, he saw himself swinging over trees and fording rivers to save Bella’s hair. For no reason he knew, he was dressed like Tarzan. Perhaps a quick costume change- 

“Kaayyyy!” 

Kay looked at Bella with still glazed eyes. Hammed shook his head. “Maybe I should talk on the phone.”

“I have it, never lost it,” insisted Kay; he leaned over the phone, switching on his best older role model voice, “Em, that is correct. We would like to make an appointment. My sister and I,” he added. 

“That won’t be a problem, Sir. If I could have your names, please?” The voice answered coolly. 

“Er … Kanu Ohieri, Isabella Ohieri … er, when would we be able to come?” 

“There is a waiting period of two weeks for all consultations with Mr Karagirma, Sir.” 

Bella gasped. Two weeks? Two weeks!? She snatched the phone from Kay. 

“Ma’am! I can’t wait two weeks! Please! My hair will be all gone in one week! Four days even!” 

“I assume this is Isabella? And it is a hair matter?” 

“Yes and yes!” Bella said. She was not at all intimidated by the voice. “I must come immediately.” 

“I wish we could accommodate you, Isabella, unfortunately Mr Karagirma’s laboratory is quite far from Jos, where our office is situated. Hence, the arrangement is that clients come to the office and then we take them by bus up into the plateau where the lab is. Some of these people have booked weeks earlier. It wouldn’t do for us to play favorites and jump someone ahead of the line.”

“But this is really urgent,” Bella said in her small voice. 

“I am afraid virtually all of our clients seem to share that impression. It is not a matter of life and death, is it?” 

“Yes, it is!” Bella said fiercely. 

The voice laughed, a pleasant tinkle. “I mean literally, Isabella. You are not ill, I imagine.” 

Bella sighed, defeated. “I don’t think so. Although I do feel faint when I think of my hair. Does that count?” 

“No, that sadly doesn’t count, Isabella. You know, two weeks is not such a long wait.” 

“It’s forever! Please, please, please; can nothing at all be done?” 

The voice paused. Kay imagined the owner lost in thought. One long finger stroked a clear chin. Before her, a long line of anxious people stood in line with hushed breaths. Waiting for her decisions, which would change their lives. 

“There is one thing,” the voice began slowly and not so confidently anymore. Kay’s imagination vanished in a puff of imaginary smoke. The voice went on, “It’s not very sensible, really, and it would mean some sort of difficulty faced…” 

“Yes, yes, anything!” Bella gasped, leaning over the phone. 

“You could have your parents take you to the lab directly instead of coming first to Jos.” The voice suggested slowly, “You would still need an appointment to see Mr Karagirma, naturally, but you would be down to a few days' wait rather than two weeks.” Bella looked up at Kay in renewed hope. 

“Again, I repeat, it wouldn’t be uncomplicated. Much of the area surrounding the lab is wild. There aren’t many roads or other modern amenities like hotels, for instance. The nearest village is 40 kilometers away. Mr Karagirma requires immediate proximity to nature for his work. Do you think your parents could manage all that?” 

Kay and Bella glanced at each other. Each was thinking the same exact thought. Their parents were always very busy; too busy, in Bella’s opinion. They never came to any of her school plays. It was one reason she and Kay had so many adventures by themselves. Bella sadly shook her head, tears beginning to form in her eyes. 

“I don’t think-” she began and stopped, because Kay had placed a hand over her mouth. While she looked at him with startled eyes, he leaned over the phone in her hand. 

“That would be totally all right,” Kay said in a voice quite as composed as the one on the phone, “would you be so kind as to send us an address, please?” Haa! Nailed it! He thought smugly. Professor Tom Foolery had his uses still. 

“Well, that is what I was explaining. The lab is basically lost up in the hills of Wase. There is no address as such. I could supply general directions. However, you would need to find it yourselves.” 

“Okay, directions then and any other details we would need to know, please.” “I would be delighted to do that, Kay. It will come via WhatsApp. You are on that?”

“Is Nigerian Jollof the absolutely best in the world?” 

The cheerful tinkle peeled from the phone again. “Stand by then. And it’s been a pleasure talking to you both.” 

The phone vibrated once and became silent. Bella stared at Kay. Kay held up a finger. “Wait for it. Another scintillating idea of the great Kay … loading.” 

“Skintill… that’s not a word!” 

“Dazzling! Out of this world. Awesomely clever.” 

Bella snorted. She had just learnt that one from Mama, “Why not just say clever? You are a big show off, Kay.” 

Kay started to grin, then suddenly snapped his fingers instead. 

"Got it! Boy, have I got it! We have three days to execute plan B!" 

"Why three days?"Bella asked, "And why are we executing Plan B? What was Plan A?" 

"Well, now you ask, Plan A was wrapping you in a parcel and posting you to H.G. Growmore’s Lab. It has been abandoned due to the reality of our lack of a vital piece of data- his exact postal address out on that plateau." 

"No kidding," Bella grunted.

"We need three days to implement B," Kay continued, "because we are going to use Mum and Dad's trip with Jenny to her new school." 

"Still don't get it," Warned Bella, her eyes beginning to glint, "talk much faster and clearer," 

"Well, they are away three days, right? So what if we also leave for Jos as soon as they go tomorrow? Dike could drive us. Mum says Dad is driving them. We would then have half of tomorrow, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to look for H.G. Growmore and save your declining hairline. And so we shall!" 

Kay banged his fist on the table. Hammed and Tekoa cheered. The room sneaked looks at Bella and read on. 

"Yes!" Screamed Bella, shaking a clenched fist in the air, "Yes! To Jos and H.G. Growmore!"