I had just finished my Senior Secondary
School Two (SSS2) third term examination and like every other student I was
happy that I have two months holiday and a year left to be done with secondary
school education. My excitement was interrupted by the thought of going home
for our third term holiday. I thought to myself “Why the excitement? Unlike the
rest of my class mates who have loving parents to make their holiday count. I
on the other hand, staying home for holiday was like a whole year of
torment. This thought continuously
defiled my excitement.
My Dad had taken a second wife after
divorcing our Mum and taken custody of my younger sister and I. We were barely
6 and 8 respectively when we realized that our Mum has left us and was never
coming back. We dint stop asking our Dad where our Mum went and when she would
return, and our Dad’s response was always ‘’Soon”. Three years on, while I was
just promoted to JSS3, my sister got admitted into the same boarding school and
we still couldn’t see our Mum to tell her we have gained admission secondary
school.
THE STORY
Just as we were about resuming our
first year in secondary school, my Dad called my sister and I to inform us of
his plan to remarry, according to him, he was not getting any younger and needed
a wife to carter for him, my younger sister and I. We asked “where is our Mum”?
Then he disclosed to us that our Mum is never going to step her foot into his
house again, that they were divorced and never going to get back together.
Tears ran down our eyes continuously as we asked him why he hated our Mum so
much that forgiveness is not considered as an option. As usual, our Dad ignored
our questions and asked us to get ready for school that we were running late.
We went to school and never stopped thinking and talking about what our Dad had
told us back home. We both wished he wasn’t serious about it and would some day
bring our Mum back home to us.
Our first term in school was like the
worst term for us but we managed to finish well that term despite the emotional
blow we had to contend with especially as teenagers. At the end of our first
term in school, as usual, Dad sent his driver to come pick us up. While we were
driving home, in our usual practice we asked him if our Mum was home but the
reply we got immediately changed our countenances after the long grins on our
faces from saying our goodbyes to other students hoping to see them when school
resumes next term. My bold younger sister who was just 13years old at that time
asked the driver “Are you sure my Mum isn’t back yet? Did you check every
section of the house before leaving?” the driver trying to be mature said to us
“Don’t worry everything you need, will be made available to you at home”. At
this point we thought he wanted our Mum’s presence to be a surprise to us so we
stopped the question and answer section as we looked forward to getting home.
On arrival, we noticed the back door
was opened. My younger sister said to me “I told you daddy’s driver was lying,
the back door is opened and only mum opens the kitchen back down when ever she
is going to stay in the kitchen cooking for long”. So I asked her to come with
me and we rushed through the back door with the intention of gripping our mum. We
haven’t held her in a while; the smell of her breath was beginning to fade away
from our memories after so many years of not setting our eyes on her. Just as we
rushed into the kitchen, we got the shock of our lives. It was a strange woman
who was apparently dressed like she own the kitchen. Our mum use to wear fitted
blouses and trousers while cooking in the kitchen and this lady was dressed in
same manner which got us confused. As smart as my little sister, she
immediately asked; “Who are you and what are you doing in our Mum’s kitchen?”
The lady answered and said “Wow! I presume you guys are Femi Ade’s children, such beautiful kids, come and hug your new
mummy” we immediately looked at each other wondering what she meant by “new
mummy”. When she saw the looks on our faces, she said “the earlier you manner
less kids accept me as your new mummy, the better for you”. “Our mum would
never speak to us in such manner i said to my sister “as we hurriedly left the kitchen
and ran upstairs to our room. We remained there until our Dad returned home
from work that day. “Who was that lady in the kitchen?” my sister thought
aloud, “Where could mummy be? Why has she abandoned us? Doesn’t she love us any
more? All these thoughts clouded my head while we remained in our room. Our dad
was surprised not to see us downstairs in the living room watching our usual
evening program when he returned, so immediately rushed to our room to find out
how we were doing and we told him all that had happened earlier. To our
greatest surprise, he promised us it wouldn’t happen again if only we would
take Aunty Tonyi as our new mum.
“Dad! You stock to your plan of getting another wife? I asked “how do you
expect us to live with another woman not to talk of calling her “Mummy’’? It
cannot happen, we can not dad, you have to bring back our mum” we exclaimed as
we both left the room.
The few weeks we spent at home were
weeks of torments. Our dad would leave the house very early and would return
late at night. He never cared to know what happened to us while he was away. As
soon as he leaves for work, Aunty Tonyi
would treat us as equal to slaves, she would give us food once in a day and
tell us not to report to our dad or face her wrath the next day. We would wash
her cloths and the toilets, grind pepper on stone and walk miles to the market
to buy what we already had at home. We admired other kids when we see them
being treated with love and care by their parents, all we did was only to wish
we were in their shoes. She became Aunty
Tonyi the Devil to us. We made calendar our friend as we stood in front of
it every day calculating how many days we had left before resumption. We became
a shadow of ourselves due to the ill-treatment
from Aunty Tonyi, it was written all
over us so much so that our neighbors and whoever came close to us could see.
But our father was too far to notice that his second wife had turned us (his
children) into house maids and strangers in our father’s house. We were
malnourished and out rightly suffering, the regular beating we received and
bruises from it were horrible, we did not need to have bad dreams, our night
mares were experienced in the day. We cried every other day and resuming school
was our prayer point every morning.
We finally resumed and wished we
never had to return home since there was nothing to return home to except
suffering and bitterness. I am preparing
for my senior secondary school examination and all my years in school have been
hell and nothing but hell. We are much older now and can talk to our dad even
though she never let him believe us “How nonchalant some fathers can be when it
comes to the affairs of their children”. All I pray is to become a Medical
Doctor which has always been my dream and take full responsibility of my kid sister
while we hope to see our mum someday. Again I thought to myself “Why on earth
would a woman forget her children? No matter how difficult a man appears to be
in the case of divorce, taking full custody of your children should be what a
woman who is faced with such situation must fight for because you never can
tell who the next woman who is coming to take your place is. A woman’s love for
her children should be strong enough to withstand any storm notwithstanding.
No comments:
Post a Comment