Journal of Bamidele III

by - 3:14 AM


I rushed home to tell my father what I heard as I get to the sitting room, I met my father eating pounded yams and peppery soup at his small round table. He swallow the ball of fufu in his hand and licked the soup from his fingers. I started narrating what the man said and his act before knowing that am Ajani's son. with the aim that my father will say something. But he only shrugged his shoulders, drew out his lower lip in a gesture which said eloquently. Their own palaver not mine and continued eating. I felt relieved as he said that, since then I stopped bothering myself over people say.
My father is a motivational father and intelligent man who always have answer to every question you ask him. I learned alot from him. He was my role model.
On June 28 1983, I came back from the job of office clerk that I got after my standard six. It was 8:00pm and I was so tired that I didn't think of eating before retired on my bed. My mind didn't go to my father's health because he had been on sick bed for the past few days. At 3'O clock, I heard a voice similar to my father's voice calling my name.The sleep immediately wiped away from my eyes. A sort of paralysis had spread over my limbs, while an intense pressure was building up inside my chest. But before it reached raging point I felt it siphoned off leaving me empty, inside and out.
I felt that there is an intruder in my father's room, who wants to harm him. I began to tiptoe upstairs running my palm up the wooden railing for guidance. By the time I got landing my eyes were fairly at home in the darkness and it was easy finding room door.
As I opened the door of my father's room. I met him in a pool of blood gasping for air. I rushed towards him, held him, all what he said was take good care of yourself and your mother. He gave up the ghost.
what I felt was sadness- a sadness deep and cool like a well, into which my hopes had fallen; my hopes of beautiful life with him.
I was sweating profusely. I was normally the kind of guy who was not easily scared anymore but I was terrified. I heaved a sign of relief. A dark mood engulfed me. Bitterness, fear, regret and anger, all clumped into one. I don't like to show weakness but there was no way hiding it.
I gazed at the window and realized the window has been burgled, I stood up looked through, I saw a guy running, he looked back so I see his face faintly all I see clearly was a long scar down his face and his eyes were empty as if he didn't have a soul. I wanted to shout but my voice seized.
I cleaned up the room and waited till morning to informed my family about my father's death.
After cleaning I went back to my room. I sat on my bed tried to think with my head in my hands. But a huge sledge hammer was beating down my brain as  an anvil and my thought were scattering sparks.
Soon I realized that what was needed was action, quick action. So I rose to my feet and willed myself about with a thought I need to report to our local police as soon as possible or I get the guy myself.
I stepped out to take a walk and think it deep.I walked for hours. The dew settled on my head and helped to numb my feeling. I saw different idle and lazy man on my way that have resume to their various palm wine shed. Most of them tall, stringy with a gangly look, their face was gaunt, their cheekbones sunken.
Soon my nose began to run and as I hadn't brought handkerchief, I blew it to my side ways by closing each nostrils in turn with my first finger. As dawn came my head began to clear a little while walking back house. I tried in vain to find the kind of words I needed to speak to console my family. As I stepped into our compound seeing thongs of mourners, the feining attitude that am preparing for fail, the pills of pretend lost its potency. Every cell in my body screamed of pain. Suddenly I was gripped and I heard a deep voice "you are under arrest for killing your father"...
To be continued...
Written by: Fasasi Eyitayo S Marvel
Twitter: @eyitayowmarvel
Instagram: @e.marvel12

You May Also Like

0 comments