Who is Your Father (2)

Who is your father is a series that tries to put before you certain situation that encourages discrimination in the country based on people’s background and why people would use a phrase like “Who is your father” in addressing another they do not think highly of. It is not uncommon in this part of the world to hear such and no one had been able to justify the phrase. Should the home anyone come from be a yardstick to decide what opportunity would be opened to them? Many have been turned down because of a family background they neither chose nor can change. The first part of this series “Who is Your Father 1 is available here http://wp.me/p1WSw3-53, and you can read the second series below, enjoy it.”

You left me standing in the rain, in the open arms of a blaring thunder. Shouldered by a freezing storm, with lightning setting in my despair and cold, embracing my vulnerability.
The tyres screeched so loud and you were gone without a word – not a telepathic inclination of your destination. In the pool of tears you looked back through the smeared rear window, dark and lightly opaque to hide your wailing. With obvious reluctance and unspoken displeasure you were gone. Just by the blink of my lashes you weren’t there no more; gone with every sense of our definition of love. Our moments of hope faded out of my grasp, and with the tides floated off the future we shared.
I remember you told me you preferred our first child to be a boy, while I would always display my pleasure in a girl as our first. You would tell me why I am the best to ever come your way. In me, you confessed a man who would make your world envy to all. This was not a joy shared by others, but a joy we both shared. The world couldn’t comprehend why you stayed with me for long and at the end came to force you out my arms, into their lonely world of solitary.
The night was thick and smelt of tears from a grieving heart. It reminded me of the day we met, a raining night exactly eleven months ago. You were walking in the rain without haste. Your arms folded up to leverage on another. Though you were quiet, but sadness gave you out a sorrowful loner. We talked, like a friend you spoke your heart. In all, I got the message you wanted to be you. Wanted to live your life as it belongs to you; brighten your smile as it heals your wound and be in your world for good.
Three months down our first meet, we became lovers without a face. We shared a common life that defers from root. Together, we built our world with our thoughts. Yet, we remained behind the bars of reality, shredded by your insecurities and pressured concerns for my safety. Your heart beats so fast it defiled the precept of love. In your eyes was the pyramid of worries, looking me in the eyes with a centered confusion. You got lost in thoughts; several times I lost counts in counting. When I touched you, the recall to reality came with shivers and fears. Yet, you would console me with words of faith from the trusting aura of peace and hope my arms offered.
I know you wanted me to help you, to take you by hands across seas. To swim with you in the clouds of peace to a place where nothing moves mountain but the genuineness of a desperate love. A place where everything come after and nothing before love. I gave my words to war with you in your crux. You decided to give our plan a name and called it ‘elope’, but I won’t agree with you, so I emphasized it a trip to a world of freedom. All I pleaded with you for was a few more days and a few more cash and a better preparation.
Right in our agreed wait, before my eyes and helpless fist; bullied by threatening presence and dangerous personalities, you took off without a trace. The last thing I saw in your tearful eyes was the scream for help. I wanted to run after you, to force you out to the open arms of the night but the protruding mouth of a silencer numbed my feet.
At the end it was true. All your fears were grounded in the knowledge of your father. If only I believed you and moved with the hastiness in your words. We would be five months far from that experience. You told me he would find you if we didn’t move. It was about who he wanted you to marry, especially after the demise of your mother. According to your father, what he wanted for you was the best. He defined love with the pleasures of cash and fame.
“No man can love you better without money in his pockets and power to his name” he told you.
He also told you that,
“The mouth of a pauper is full of sweet words and promises to bring heaven to a woman’s door step. But in practice, to make a woman experience paradise on earth is impossible. No daughter of mine will marry such low lifer when I am alive”
It had always been about who to marry, it must be the son of a Senator or that of a Minister. If the President’s son won’t look your way, he planned to match make you with the Governor’s son. It is all an effort to stay relevant, he want to use you to keep up his strings as they are in the society.
After you were taken, I waited to see if luck could shine your return on me. I found myself in the open space of major markets daily, hoping to see your figure jump at me. When it became unbearable, when missing you became unimaginable, I did what I promised you never to do no matter what. I found my way to your father’s door step. Sadly though, I didn’t make it beyond your gate before I was accused of theft. At the police station where I was locked up, your father showed up once and promised to show me the direction to hell.
“I thought I told you to stop seeing my daughter. Then again, what gave you the effrontery to barge into my compound?” he queried.
He raised his walking stick through the bars with the intention to hit me. When he couldn’t, he spat through and smeared my face.
“Who is your father in this land; who is your father? Tell me the son of who you are. Where are you from? Of course, you are nobody and a son of no one. Oh, you see a rich naïve girl and you want to take advantage you gold digger! I will make sure you rot in this cell, at least until my daughter is fully married to one of her type.”
After that day, I labored behind bars with no privilege of bail or a lawyer to speak my side. For weeks I was bruised and used in the confines of the cell before the release that landed me in the hospital. Then and there at the hospital, I decided we were never meant to be together, at least not in this life. Though I love you, but I had to let go.


4 responses to “Who is Your Father (2)

  1. Brava! Wonderful piece. I could see the scenes unfold and play right before my eyes.

    I read the first piece, loved it as much as I enjoyed this. As preposterous as it seems, this is one of the major assumptions the society — at least a large fraction — consider as the normal way of life; the expected trend things should follow. The path to destruction in most cases.

    The earlier we realise this the better for all. More grace 🙂

    • Exactly and this is one reason we have uneven distribution of wealth. The soceity unfortunately continue to encourage this way of life and we can only hope it ends with the older generation. Thank you for reading, really appreciate.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s