“What a life”
To wake up to the sound track of moving
vehicles that I have no business with.
“Ada!!!” Daddy screamed “I need my trouser ironed
and my shoe polished; besides have you boiled my bath water yet?”
I grumbled “I am boiling your water Sir”.
It
still amazes me. I could never be up as early as 4:50am. It is probably the prayer of my late mother
Ezinne.
“My one million dollar baby” mama will say.
I would chuckle and wrap my hands around
her waist.
“Adaobi I am
certain that you must be stupid this morning, open this door!”
I am dead! How was
I carried away this time? Papa will kill me.
He has never liked
me ever since my mum died in my grade 2.
“Better disappear
before I get back tonight” papa said.
Sorrow defines me
best.
This lonely home I
live in haunts me everyday. No school, no friends and practically no life.
“Ada”
“Ha! Is papa back?”
“Ada ooo “
“Kunle is that
you?”
I raced to the
door. “You still shout Ada with this your parted red sea?”
“Ada!” Kunle sternly said
“I am leaving”
“I am sorry jor”
I am so fond of Kunle. His gapped tooth is not
impressing but I love it just the way it is. After all my bow leg isn’t a
better option, it is something my father hates about me. Not so bothered
because Kunle ignores that part of me.
I am the happiest; at least I don’t scare people with eyes like that
of an old owl. But maybe papa fails to look in the mirror, sigh.
The day had gone
dark and Kunle had to go before my dad gets back.
“I would see you
another day” He said.
As mama will say
“another day maybe never again”
Indeed I never saw
Kunle again.
My life became an
epitome of pain. I could wish for death
Infact, I wished
for death.
The more I asked
for death the more I loose a loved one.
But why hasn’t
this death taken papa?
After papa and I
were told that Kunle died in his sleep due to his asthma attack, papa has never
stopped referring to me as “aje” a witch.
Funny enough I
laugh whenever he says this.
The struggle
between his tongue and his voice to put out three letters was a view never to
miss.
You can imagine an
Igbo man from inewi in Anambra state saying “aje” LOL it sounded like he was
wishing me well.
He accused me of
using my late mother’s blood for rituals to straighten my leg. Trust me I would
have preferred to use his balls.
Now that Kunle is
dead, what’s next? My life hasn’t ended yet. I got to keep moving.
Not too long after
papa and I had moved to Onitsha he lost his job, so he has been on a job hunt.
God bless his
hustle.
In me, I found a
talent. I used to scribble all my sorrow in rough sheets.
I saved thirty
naira and I had in mind that I was going to buy a note book to save all my
writings.
On one Sunday
afternoon after papa had finished ranting and speaking gibberish he told me to
Vamoose the house.
Papa said I had
irritated him far beyond what he can swallow. Obviously he didn’t try chewing.
I sighed.
And of course I
ran along not forgetting to steal a biro. I have been freed. I’m freed at last.
But wait! No where
to rest my head.
Who do I even
know? Na wa oo. What a cruel world.
Some people must
be walking dead!
So many people
passed me by and watched me hide under a mango tree beside an ant hill while it
rained cat and dog.
Not one person
offered a coat.
I said to myself
“I must buy this note book”
Ten o’clock the
next day with my ripped skirt and bogus top I roamed the street with no
direction in search for a note book to buy at thirty naira.
The day couldn’t
get worse as the sun had beat directly on my well shaven scalp.
After the long
queue I finally got my note book so I began my story.
All the books my
late mum read to me always had a story of the writer at the commence of the
book.
So I started...
About the author.
This is amazing, the sense of humor too, i like this one.
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