….I’m not sure as to what my exact state of mind was when I got home, all I know is I was somewhere in between fury and emotional breakdown. I spent my entire trip home in prayers; praying that nothing bad had happened, and praying that my prayers would be answered.
I rushed into the sitting room to see my younger sister sobbing beside my mum who was laying on the couch. I silently prayed again. ‘’shes still not moving’ my sister said amidst sobbing. My father was no were in sight, the bastard had skipped. No time to worry now, I made a few phone calls, and in a few hours, my mum was in the hospital. Thankfully it was just a slight concussion and in a few of days she should be better and read to come home. Trying to avoid further questioning from the doctor as what must have led to my mum’s situation, I quickly thanked him and hushed my sister who was still sobbing irritatingly.
Settling into my car for another tiring drive back home, I reached for my blackberry to check what I had missed; there were several missed calls and BBM’s waiting to be answered. Lade texted me to make sure I was OK. Ify was more direct, she wanted to know What had happened at home. Well, I was too tired to come up with a perfect lie, so I ignored their messages, for now. My father was still not home when I got back. I didn’t care. I fell on my bed immediately I walked into my room as my mind started to float and sleep started to take over, I reminisced on how a day which was meant to be fun and relaxing turned out to be a nightmare. Somehow, sleep finally won, and I stopped thinking.
I woke up to the piercing ring of my phone. I made up mind to change that ring tone, so loud. I wasn’t too surprised when I saw the caller ID. Ever persistent Ify. I picked the call and the next thing was ‘Madam I’ve been calling you, why haven’t you replied my messages, what happened at home?’ all in one breath. Whatever happened to good morning greetings? I slowly responded to her that my mum fainted from too much stress and low blood level. Wow, how lies flow when you’ve gotten adequate rest. The rest of the conversation was a blur. Once again, I thanked God for public holidays in Nigeria, I definitely couldn’t handle work in my state of mind.
I dragged my tired body to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Walking past the sitting room, I saw my father seated on the couch reading a newspaper like nothing had happened at all. Son of a ****! My emotions were beginning to build as I calmly filled my cup with water from the dispenser. As I swallowed, my father’s voice hit me ‘how’s your mother doing?’ what nerve I thought to myself. ‘She’s alive’ I answered curtly. ‘She’ll definitely need to have much rest when she gets back’ he further went on to say. Rest? I couldn’t contain my anger anymore. I burst out screaming at him for having hit her at all, calling him irresponsible and every other hurtful word that came into mind. He yelled back even louder and called me names, the last statement I heard before I walked into my room was ‘if you go on like this, you’ll not find a husband to marry’. I silently prayed not to end up with a man like my father.
My mum was back home in a days later under strict instruction from the doctor to get as much rest as she could. Aunt Sade, my mum’s older sister visited us after hearing of my my mum’s admission and release from the hospital. ‘Lola what happened to you?’ my aunt asked my mum, ‘it’s just slight malaria and typhiod’ was my mum’s response.huhh?! slight malaria and typhoid? My aunt went further to say, ‘I hope your husband is taking good care of you’ I raised my eyebrows immediately and my mother caught my eyes. She just replied simply ‘yes he is, he’s trying’. Trying to kill you were my thoughts as I walked off to my room in irritation. After my aunt left, my mum came into room to have a word with me. Words which I didn’t appreciate very much. ‘Ola, I know you were expecting me to tell Sade what happened, but you must understand that as a family, you don’t spread your dirty linen in public. Some things are best left behind closed doors’. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I geared up to respond to her asking her how she could live her life like that? She shut me up by saying that I didn’t understand, but that I would understand better when I got married. ‘Ola you have no choice but to respect your father no matter what he does, I wouldn’t tolerate any disregard from you. In marriage there are sacrifices you’ll have to give, you’ll understand better when you get there’. WTH? I couldn’t stand the argument anymore, I asked my mum to leave my room. She walked out still scolding me .
I finally snapped under the emotional weight and tension that had been building inside me over the last few days. I crumpled in between my pillows and allowed my tears to flow, my chest was heavy, and so were my eyes. I cried hard and painful tears. Tears that no one will see.
I somehow got distracted, and stopped writing the story after this point. Your thoughts?