Hi everyone!
Over the next few posts, I will be featuring a number of authors that have blessed my heart with their writing and whom I believe will bless yours too. Today's story is authored by a dear friend and brother of mine, Mr. Ugochukwu Ogbonna. He is an upcoming Christian author who is slowly becoming a master of short stories. I will not go on and on... Just read up and be blessed!
And one more thing... Spread the word. If this post blesses you, please share the link. Everybody needs to know.
So here goes....
Story, story! Stoooorrrryyyy!!!! Once upon a time...
"Simi looked resplendent as she was driven to church. It was her wedding day and she could feel the nervousness around her, she looked out the window and just thought how far she had come through in life. The car came to a halt, as she began her dismount from the car. She was smiling from ear to ear when she looked up and saw him, again.
I had grown up in the best family. My father loved me so much and my mum had always been there for me; until mum gave birth to Jide, my younger brother. Jide was a charming child and would always raise his arms to be carried by anyone; in fact, one could hardly resist his appeal. One year into Jide's birth, we discovered he had Down's Syndrome. Immediately, Papa, as we called him, changed his attitude towards us all. He would come home late, drunk in other days and would completely lock himself up in his room, shutting us all out. Jide would crawl up to his huge feet wanting Papa to carry him and toss him in the air, but he would shove him away and disappear into his room. He was always antsy around Jide. Whenever Jide was scared or unhappy, his eyelids would flutter in fast motions and he would twitch. You hardly see tears fall off his eyes.
More often than not, we would hear Papa screaming at mama, blaming her for everything that went wrong in the house. Papa was my best friend because I could remember he gave me piggy-backs, he took me horse riding on my fifth birthday and anytime he came back from work he'll tickle my sides. I really loved him. But he had not smiled at me in a long while. He abused Jide mentally. He would mock on his stuttering speech and would punish him severely when he made mistakes. Papa was embarrassed about him.
More often than not, we would hear Papa screaming at mama, blaming her for everything that went wrong in the house. Papa was my best friend because I could remember he gave me piggy-backs, he took me horse riding on my fifth birthday and anytime he came back from work he'll tickle my sides. I really loved him. But he had not smiled at me in a long while. He abused Jide mentally. He would mock on his stuttering speech and would punish him severely when he made mistakes. Papa was embarrassed about him.
I loved Jide with the whole of my heart. When we went out to play, some kids in the neighborhood would imitate him and he will just flutter his eyelids and walk away. He didn't understand why he was like that. I had promised to protect him from such people and I had on many timed gotten into fights with other kids in a bid to protect his interest. There was only one person I couldn't protect Jide from; Papa. He would pick Jide up, alone in the room and leave him there till he falls asleep. Mama would just cry because she too couldn't do much to protect him. I began to loathe my best friend. 'Maybe he's not my dad' I thought.
Few years later Papa brought another woman in and in the following weeks kicked us out if his house. That day mama cried as if someone had died. Jide was twitching and that was the first time I saw a tear slip off his big brown eyes.
Things became very difficult for us. We had to change our school to the one mama could afford. Mama had arthritis and it got worse to the extenct if being confined to a wheelchair. We lived in a single room apartment for ten years if my life. I had promised myself to become someone great in future and the fact that I harboured a deep hate for my father was a booster for me to achieve my goal. I would be an engineer and train my brother.
I hated men. I would frown when it was a male teacher that taught in class. I would not greet Nonye's father even when he blithely greeted me. I had fought with Paul, that boy that tried to remove a bug from my hair. I would not even sit beside boys in class because I perceived they were yet to grow into men who were brutes. I saw men as wicked beings. I had locked Everyman in my heart and had thrown the keys into the Atlantic Ocean; except Jide of course. On many occasions when people asked about my father I would just say he was dead because as far as I was concerned he had died a long time in my heart.
Things became very difficult for us. We had to change our school to the one mama could afford. Mama had arthritis and it got worse to the extenct if being confined to a wheelchair. We lived in a single room apartment for ten years if my life. I had promised myself to become someone great in future and the fact that I harboured a deep hate for my father was a booster for me to achieve my goal. I would be an engineer and train my brother.
I hated men. I would frown when it was a male teacher that taught in class. I would not greet Nonye's father even when he blithely greeted me. I had fought with Paul, that boy that tried to remove a bug from my hair. I would not even sit beside boys in class because I perceived they were yet to grow into men who were brutes. I saw men as wicked beings. I had locked Everyman in my heart and had thrown the keys into the Atlantic Ocean; except Jide of course. On many occasions when people asked about my father I would just say he was dead because as far as I was concerned he had died a long time in my heart.
I had met Lanre in my third year in the University. After so many encounters he became my only male friend. He taught Jide how to ride a bicycle, how to paint and do other masculine stuff. After graduation, I got a good job and sent Jide abroad to an Arts Institute. I had opened up to Lanre and whenever he rose the point of me forgiving my father it almost always ended up in an argument.
Two weeks into our traditional marriage, my father came to our house. I was coming back from work when I saw him kneeling before mama pleading her forgiveness. I burned with hate! After all these years he had decided to return. I was not ready to let him go. I am a Christian, but he who wears the shoes know where it pinches the most. Mama forgave him, but I had made up my mind.
Few days later I found myself thinking of those precious moments I had had with my father. But what about the years lost? There was no way to bridge the gap. 'Maybe I'll forgive him in my heart but have nothing to ever do with him' I thought.
Few days later I found myself thinking of those precious moments I had had with my father. But what about the years lost? There was no way to bridge the gap. 'Maybe I'll forgive him in my heart but have nothing to ever do with him' I thought.
Through my flowery veil I saw him again. In a white 'agbada' standing in front if the church, looking very nervous, holding Jide's manly palm. I frowned, holding my flowing gown, walked up the few stairs; Papa knelt in front of me sobbing like a baby begging my forgiveness or even a chance to walk me down the aisle. I had somehow wanted him to always walk me down on my wedding day. Of course I had prayed to God for the grace and strength to let go. All of a sudden the walls in which I had prisoned him began to quake. Brick by brick; and like an earthquake the walls crumbled to the ground. With tears running down my madeup face, Papa hugged me so tight I didn't ever want to leave his embrace. My best friend had returned! It was not easy but I had forgiven him. I slid my arms in his as he walked me down to a smiling Lanre, the band played my favourite hymn, 'Great is Thy Faithfulness.' "
I believe you were blessed. Infact, you have no choice. :)
In Christ,
Ishanpepe.
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