I have always been a moody boy from infancy to my high school days.I never realised how it affected my view on happiness but people around me, especially my friends knew about this and they tried all they could to make me happy.Somehow, they succeeded.
When I entered University of Reems to offer languages, I begun to see life from a different perspective. I saw myself as a guy who deserved to be happy. After all, I had my whole life ahead of me.
I became closer to one teacher in particular.His name was Mr.Edwin Glyn.For an unknown reason, I saw him not as my teacher but as my father , perhaps, because he had some striking semblance to my father.
One day, he gave the class an assignment.It was an essay entitled, " Four reasons why you love your father."
When I saw the title of the essay, my hard won happiness escaped through the window, as if chased by an invisible mob, glamouring for its life.Sadness descended on me like
clouds on the horizon,in its frantic effort to replace the previously happy sentiment that had suddenlybetrayed me.
I began to shake with emotion, my legs wobbling like an unstable toddler.Sweat emerged under my skin and make its way through the pores into the entangled folds visibly gathering on my face, in its
determined efforts to merged with
the tears trickling down my cheeks, with such a speed that one would see my whole system lacked equipoise on
that forlorn moment.
I was oblivious of the fact that my colleagues were starring at me , been mesmerised by my sudden mood swing the moment the assignment was given. I tried to control myself
and succeeded for a few seconds before the remaining stream of tears temporarily locked behind my eye balls suddenly broke the weak barriers and flow freely on the paper on which the assignment which caused this sentimentality was written.
I stood up and moved towards the entrance of the lecture hall without uttering a word to Mr.Edwin who was completely shocked by my mood.
"Jerry , what is ....."he had initiated a question but couldn't finished it before I dashed out of the classrooms,
hundreds of eyes, starring curiously at me.
For three days, I couldn't go to school.
Eventually, I went back to school on the fourth day.I went to Mr.Edwin and suggested I want to meet the whole class so that I could explain to them why I became emotional and teary three days ago when the assignment
was given to us. He agreed and announced it to the class.
There was stone silence when I entered the hall because everyone was curious to know why I couldn't write a simple essay about my father.I sat down on a chair and began my sad narration.
"My fellow colleagues, I want to begin by saying I am sorry for creating pandemonium in class on Monday. It was because I couldn't control my emotion."
One of the students by name Gideon asked impatiently, so why were you crying like a baby?"
Then my story began as the whole class paid rapt attention.
"I was the first born of my mother.Ever since I was born, I only saw my father for three weeks and three days.I asked my mother why my father had abandoned us. She told me my father travelled to London with another lady he had fallen in love with."
"I asked her if my father had seen me before travelling Overseas.She said she gave birth to me two months before he travelled so he had seen me when I was just a two months old baby, before he travelled."
"It was painful growing up without a father figure. Whenever I saw families together- like father, mother and children, I felt sad.At times when we were filling certain documents, they would asked for certain information about fathers which I didn't know but have to pretend to know.
I remembered once in Primary School, I was asked to bring my father for a serious meeting. I went to bring my mother only to realise that all those who came to the meeting were males. The school insisted that the meeting was "an all male meeting only".
My mother had no other option than to return home since my uncles also pretended not to know us."
"On one occasion, thieves broke into our house. They stole our belongings.
The gang leader ,seeing how attractive my mum looked, forced himself into her.I tried all that I could to fight
him but he threw me away like a piece
of paper and had his way with my mother.This resulted into a pregnancy.
My mother been a strict Christian decided to keep the unwanted
pregnancy.She gave birth to my
half Sister Natasha."
"At age 10, my father returned from London with his white woman.I was happy that finally I would meet my father for the very first time.I went to where he lodged.When he saw me, he couldn't recognise me until I told him my mother was Cynthia and I am his son.He didn't really seemed to care about that .His priority was his new wife."
Staying with my father for just three weeks was the worst day of my life.He turned me into a slave. I woke up very early in the morning to tidy the house, cook the food, clean the bathroom, Sitting room, ran errands , wash their
clothes. My father never spent two minutes of his time to chat with me when I visited him.He was always with his "Queen."
Surprisingly, His wife was very kind to me.She treated me like a human being , even spending time to talk with me about her experience so far in Africa. She even told me they would go back after six months.
"You are a lovely lad,"she kept saying.
"You are certainly Kelly's Son.Same physique.Same voice and almost the same height."
Unknown to me, my father was jealous because my step mother seemed to be fond of me.I eavesdropped on their quarrel one night.My step mother was advising him to treat me like a son that I was to him. I heard him responded angrily,are you in love with that bastard child of mine?
"It was a serious quarrel. His Wife gave him a slap.
The next day, fate struck.My father returned home only to see me sitting beside his wife,my stepmother. He quickly took a cane he bought a few
days ago and begun hitting me very hard without saying a word.
I attempted to escape,but the cane accidentally hit my eye.Blood begun
oozing. I was rushed to the hospital but the ophthalmologist couldn't
saved my eye.My left eye was broken.
I returned to my mum with one eye.
She was devastated and regretted asking me to visit my father. Since then,I hated my father with a passion
and considered him dead to me.
After six months, he returned to London with his wife and for the next 7 years , I didn't hear from him.
Last year, my mother received a phone call from London. She was told my father died in a gory car crash when he was returning from a party with his another girl.When I heard the news of his demise,I was emotionless.
"Do you know why?"I gazed more explicitly at my colleagues."They were sad but answered ,"yes"and I continued.
"It was because I never had a father from my infancy. The man I saw whom my mother said was my father never behaved like one so to me, My father had died a long, long time ago before he finally died.
Mr.Edwin, that was why I became emotional when you asked us to write an essay on why we loved our fathers. I never had one so with all apology,I can't write your essay "
As surprising as this may sound to you,
my Reader, Some of my mates too begun to cry. I hope you are not.
Mr.Edwin apologized for touching a sensitive spot for me but I told him it was needless since he didn't know about my background.
"You didn't know my background either,"Mr.Edwin said."I was also an Orphan. I had never seen my father before. I only saw the photographs.
He had died before I was born.My mother said he was in the military and
went on a peace keeping mission but never returned. "
I was mesmerised by Mr.Edwin's Narration and his story endeared him to me more.He became my "father " and my mentor until I Completed the university and became a journalist.