I
read a story on TNC and although the story was very nice and creative, what I
really loved was this art by Olatoxic. So I showed it to my darling MSM and we
decided to each write a story drawing our inspiration from the art. You are about to read hers. I will post
mine soon. Enjoy and don’t forget to share. Have a lovely week :) Gracias!!!
As teenagers then, my friends and I would sometimes have
discussions about marriage, how we want it to be and look like although we
didn’t exactly have any explicit knowledge about marriage. For me, my parents
were my model married couple. I would proudly tell my friends about how happy
my parents were. I prided on the fact that unlike most of my friend’s families,
we were a family in the true sense of the word and my parents were still very
much in love. We would go on vacation together and I would proudly show my
friends the many pictures we took unconsciously making some of them jealous because
they were from broken homes or for some, their dad was always away.
People say ‘Nothing lasts
forever’ and although I believed that, I made an exception with regards to my
family. ‘We would always remain this genuinely happy family and I would marry
someone like my father; someone that will keep loving me even when I shouldn’t
be loved. Someone that truly cares about me and the family’, I used to say to
myself until the day I found my mother crying her eyes out as she yelled at my
father… ‘I am tired Olajide. I can’t take it anymore. I am tired of putting up
a front and excusing your nonsense. I refuse to continue being your punching
bag. Look at my body Olajide, just look at the many scars you have left on my
once beautiful skin. Marriage is for better or worse but this is not worse.
This is hell and it’s too hot for me to continue letting my whole being melt. I
am leaving and I will let Tinu know the truth. The truth about the father that
looks like he can’t hurt a fly’. The door was slightly open and they did not
know I was back from my outing with my friends. That day, I left the house with
a heavy heart. I kept walking to God knows where. My mind was too occupied with
many unanswered questions. ‘But, daddy and mummy are happy.’ Then it came to
me, ‘why does mummy always wear long sleeve?’ I have caught her many times
crying but, she would quickly wipe it away and tell me a sob or happy story
about why she was crying. It dawned on me, I chose to ignore signs and I chose
to live in a utopian world.
******
The days following
that day were unbearable. She must have really not being able to endure anymore
as she was no longer careful enough to lament about her frustrations. She would
do it even when she knew I could hear. She started looking old and she started
looking ugly while my daddy started looking like the wicked beast, the monster
that sucked out happiness from everyone. I was going to get something from her
room. I knew her and my dad might have been at each other’s throat again and I
didn’t care if they tried to act normal when I walked in.
I didn’t care because
I was hurting. My perfect world was a lie and it was stumbling so hard and
fast. I couldn’t share my pain with my friends, what would they think of the picture of a ‘perfect
family’ that I painted? A painting I was going to keep for my future. I couldn’t really talk to my
brother who was far away in Australia. I was alone and I was having terrible
thoughts. So I couldn’t care if
they would quickly hug like they once did when I walked in.
I didn’t expect to see the
punch that landed on my mother’s
face and I didn’t expect to see her groaning in
pain. It’s like he had been kicking her and
she had been talking and fueling his anger. I
remained glued at the door horror-strucked as her words revolved round my
system… "I am tired’, she yelled as she made a weak attempt to throw her
purse at him. ‘I am tired Olajide. Over twenty-three years of marriage and you
so callously impregnated my friend. My friend Olajide, you make me sick. For
years, I endured sleeping beside you though you came home reeking of alcohol.
Though you snored like rickety old trains. Pretence is killing me. You
unfaithful, ungrateful, disloyal sick twisted bastard. I made you what you are
and gave you two children. Yet, you cheat on me and strip me off of everything
that makes me, me. You!!! You have turned me to this person. This person I
can’t stand. Tinu has to know. I can’t do this again. You will never see your
children again, I promise you. I will fight you with everything I have because,
I will not allow you turn my children into people that accept abuse and
loveless marriage as a part of life.’
I couldn’t move my body though I wanted to run
away, run as fast as I could and never turn back. But, my system failed me, it
went numb. I saw my father sit on the bed defeated, the thought of losing his
children would kill him and he knew my mother wasn’t bluffing. Her father who
is very close to the president will use everything he has to fight him. My
uncles who carry my mum like a porcelain doll because she is the only girl will
kill him before he realizes what’s happening to him. He knew my grandma would
go naked and curse him for causing her daughter pain. Her daughter who never
told her family what was going on because she knew they would come after the
father of her children and her children are her world. Her children are the
reason she remains with this man. Her children are the reason she tries to act
normal though thorns have inhabited her body. She doesn’t want her son and most
especially, her innocent sixteen year old Tinu to lose trust and confidence in
them as parents. She didn’t want his infidelity to cause Tinu to shut down her
self-esteem. She lied to protect her daughter; she wanted her to still raise
her head up in the society and be confident enough. She didn’t want to
disappoint her daughter and make her feel she is the reason her parent’s
marriage wasn’t working out though, it was far from being her fault.
They finally noticed
me… my father bent his head in shame when I locked eyes with him and my mother
ran after me… ‘Tinu, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out like this. I will
make it work, I promise you.’ With heavy tears in my eyes, I hugged my mother
tight determined not to let the tears fall. She needs me; I will be strong for
her. I will protect her. ‘You don’t have to protect me anymore. Whatever you
need mum, I’m here for you.’ I guess it’s true what they say, ‘the bond between
a mother and child is an un-understandable one’ and I didn’t care to understand
it. I just cared to love her with everything.
So now, I know what
my mother went through. Trust is the glue that holds anything together and once
that glue loosens, it’s hard to get it back to what it was. My mother was in
prison just to protect my brother and me and give us a better future but that’s
why I’m her daughter. That’s why my umbilical cord was cut from hers. I am
meant to protect her and give her a better future and I’m doing just that.
******
I am so grateful for you Boo :* |
It’s Dhuppy’s birthday.
One of my few loves. This short girl with a lovely shape and a brain that will
make you marvel is one of those friends that has had my back right from time
and is still having it. I love you boo (whether homo or not. I don’t care) and
I wish you far more than the goodies this life has to offer. My beautiful
friend that already has my future medical bills covered, may you never stop
growing in love and in the way of the lord.
The bond between a mother and child is really something. It's obvious the man really loves his children though and doesn't want to jeopardise a future with them although it might be too late for him.
ReplyDeleteIt's a nice story. Thanks for sending it in hon.