To Kill Father's Ghost ꘡꘡: The Knowing

I knew all of it dear father. About all the other women, the anserine investments, the alcohol problem. I knew why you fled from the city, where real men stride the streets. Toiling everyday for dreams bigger than them, constantly changing themselves just to grow into the men who can slay lofty ambitions. Where men take risks and eat from the sweat of their brow. From he that pushes a cart ignoring the sun’s raging fury, to she who ignores the uncertainty of the future and sets up a multimillion Pesa company. But you my father, couldn’t ignore anything. It was too tough for you. You noticed everything,  and it all scared you.

You couldn’t stand the heat of the city, you couldn’t compete against men faster, wiser, stronger than you and so you ran back to grandma. You ran back to the village, to your mother’s feet. She gladly welcomed you back and that is when I finally figured it all out. I figured it out when you left your wife to fight it out alone. You didn’t care about the oath you swore to God, nor your children’s futures, nor your honour. You just wanted away from all the stress, you needed to catch a break, to just go away and figure yourself out. The very things you sneered at in me. That is how I knew.

You were a spoilt man - kid. Mothered out of your senses and entitled to your detriment. Everything was easy for you, until it wasn’t anymore. You lashed out. You battered your wife in my presence. I saw you many times, but you only saw me once. Then you started with me too. I blamed you, but now that I am almost your age, I see why.

You were trying to hide it. Trying to hide the fact that you were never man enough, projecting your fears on me, trying to make me a man. But you went about it all wrong dad, you only made me hate you, drift away, stop caring. You did not have to be so mean, so violent, so abusive. You only made me just as mean, violent and abusive instead. But I won’t waste words up here blaming you for it, I am trying to 

find myself, to be a good man God knows, I try every single day. I try so hard sometimes I feel like I can’t take the pain anymore, but then I get up and I try again. I have to prove you wrong even in your death. I will be a real man some day, even if it is on my last day.

For now, I am just like you. A chip off the old block. I am afraid that I am indeed not a real man. I am not settled yet. Afraid of staying in one place for too long lest people figure out the real me. The broken me. I’d rather they stick with the charming, confident always joking me. Only I can know that it is a façade.

I’m afraid of relationships and commitments. Those bloody things, cursed be the man who thought it would be a nice idea. Unlike you, I’m still not married yet at this age, you beat me on that one. I see your sick smirk old man. Even in the spirit world, you still have it in for me. You see, I thought I would finally do it this year but I fell too deep in love. That is why I have to handle something papa. It’s funny how I still seek your approval to this day but I hope this is manly enough. I am going to confess to her, I’m going to say everything. Look at what I wrote her. It’s the most honest I’ve ever been in my life, and even though I feel sad, there is a silver lining of joy knowing that I am better than you, at least on this aspect. I can be honest to myself. 

(To Be Contd.)

Frank Friday: Being human

Back when I used to hear spending time with nature, I'd always picture myself neckdeep in shrubbery in some jungle or some other wild place. After all, nature equals wild yeah? Lol

I've never considered myself an outdoorsy person but then I still enjoyed the little things like watching the day break, or how the clouds move. 

I used to stay up late just because I wanted to hear and feel the night after all the hum drums the humans must have made. You know, we make so much noise. I sometimes wonder if all the noise is heard in space and how. Does it sound like a mighty drone of bees? Or like the dound of crashing waves? Only this time, the noise is magnified thousands of times over. I'm not a scientist so I can't tell the correct value of the magnification, not that you mind do you? 

So, not until I moved into a house with a balcony view did I realise what I'd been missing. I've always wanted to live in one and it happened, onto the next wish. The minutes I spend there drinking in all the sights that take place above and below me is something I can't describe. Just know that God is truly great. 

I could spend hours just gazing up at the sky, it's just that that we humans have something other living beings don't. It's called a job. Hence, one can't possibly do enough of the above. It'd be termed, “wasting time.” Well, thank God for “small” mercies, for those pockets of time that one can freely indulge.

Peace...

To Kill Father's Ghost ꘡

Dear diary,

On the day he died, my father was angry at me. He had been mad at me for as long as I could remember, but that morning, it was different. A different kind of anger. Like lava stirring at the lip of a volcano, deceptive, slow, but burning wildly.

He did not curse or make a derogatory comment nor grant in disapproval. He hadn’t beaten me up in a while, he couldn’t. He just sat, like always, in his foyer chair completely still, silent as a corpse. I carried him there from the bed. As I placed him down, I noticed his lower lip quivering, dangling like a bell, chipped.

Four weeks earlier he had stubbornly refused to stay in hospital any longer. He could still get his way then. Now as I stood back and considered him, I thought that his disease had finally worn him down to a point of silence. To this day I regret the morbid satisfaction I got out of that thought. I truly and honestly do regret it. It is the one and only thing I regret about his death. A son should not get any thrills seeing his own father give up on anything. Not covertly and most definitely not overtly, it is more sinful.

I was wrong though, he had not given up. In fact he did not care about the illness that had slowly chipped away at his body like a river over a rock. His mind was on something else, someone else. Me. He was mad at me. So deeply, so passionately that he just eyeballed me in angry silence. Big yellow disease-laden eyeballs just gawking at me, the last of their lives draining out by the minute but still seeing no good in me. In retrospect, I think he looked scary. Raised cheeks, the battle scars of a virus that doesn’t know when to quit. Eyeballs at the end of their tethers, sockets wide. His skin was patchy, scratched to oblivion. Cracked lips that sagged so much his lower incisors were always visible. It was a sad sight, something had taken my father’s countenance and replaced it with a stranger’s.

Sad it was, but I was not sorry. He knew I wasn’t and that’s what made him mad. The nerve father! How dare you demand that I be sorry? Why didn’t you take it like the real man you always wanted me to be? Is that why you hated me? Is that why? Won’t your spirit tell me? I know why father, I know why you despised me so much. It is because you knew it. You knew that you were not a real man either, and you detested the fact that I had figured it out.

(To Be Contd.)

Frank Friday: In the cool of the Morning

 

Hi there, *waves vigorously and enthusiastically*

So! I've resurfaced. I had to. I knew I would. The question was, when? Well, now we know. It's been a minute, wow. To think it's been exactly a month I last said hi😄. It feels so good to be back. 

So, hi again. How're you? Missed me? Missed me not? Oh well, I trust you've been well. If you reside in Nigeria, well, you have no option other than that, regardless. Yeah, regardless.

So, a lotta water has indeed passed under the proverbial bridge, whew.

1. Someone took a really long break from her  hair business. Too long a break if you ask me. But you're not, right? 
2. Another someone finally rounded off her studies. Awaiting results *fingers crossed*
3. Someone travelled miles to hook up with man *face palm* (a friend's phrasing). 
4. Still that someone relocated to a foreign land. A land of the non smilers (thankfully, that someone's surrounded by the opposite). A land of the hustlers and buzzites - Lagos. 
5. And yet another someone upped and took a bold step into the oldest institution ever institutionalised (lol). Yep. 

Who's been this someone biko? Righto, yours truly, moi. And that institution's marriage!! Yaaay right? Lol, ok, whatever.

So bloggy dear might be taking a different direction soon. Can't say what exactly and why, let's call it a feeling. Even better, intuition. But it'll be for good, really. 

More gist

More yarn

And yes, insight into what the dark side other side feels like. Come join us, I'm recruiting😉

Hang in there, I've got a juicy story to share. Will post Tuesday, God willing. Courtesy of a benevolent contributor. Shout out to Brian, all the way from Kenya. Salut!

See y'all soon...

Peace

MMC: The Patient

"Case file 402, session 29. Subject; Piper Ali."Dr Pepper murmurs into the tape recorder and looks up at his patient.

He'd known she'd be a difficult one, this one. From the set of her chin the first day she'd walked in, he'd known. What he didn't know then was just how difficult.

"You said you had something urgent to tell me?" Dr. Pepper asks. 

"Yes doctor." she replies in a flat tone.

"Is anything the matter?" he asks, careful to mask the note of worry that had creeped into his voice with one of fatherly concern.

"There's a hole where my tooth used to be. There's a hole where my heart used to be."

There's silence, "and..?" He prompts, carefully keeping his face neutral even though what she'd just said had left him puzzled.

"And nothing." she replies in that disturbing monotone.

Dr. Pepper releases an inaudible sigh, this is not how I want to start the week Lord. After 28 sessions, he'd made no headway with this one. What will it take to get you to crack young one?

***

To be continued. Or not... 

Frank Friday: Sometimes...

I sometimes forget.
I forget who I am
I forget my confessions
I forget my faith
I forget that I'm different
I forget who I am

I forget too much I think

To forget is good

But not all forgetfulness is good

I forget that I need to love myself

Bad

I forget that I matter

Bad

I forget that I have a right to what I feel

Bad

I forget to put myself first
Sometimes good, sometimes bad
Life once used to be black or white
I forget how that was
Sometimes good, sometimes bad
Now, I'm somewhere in between

Frozen Smiles and Bleeding Hearts

The year was 2015, someone had just had their heart broken. And for that, the world stood still *applause*

Well, at least that's how the expression, "Frozen Smiles and Bleeding Hearts' was interpreted. In as much as the world revolves around relationships (yes, it certainly does), it's not always a man and woman thing. I mean, there are so many things that could pass as heart break barring a romantic relationship. 

1. I just missed out on eating my favourite flavour of ice cream, that's heart breaking.
2. Engrossed in a book and a favourite character's killed e.g, Dumbledore in Harry Potter, now that's really heart breaking. Should I go on?
3. Someone promises me money at a time I really do need it and *gasp*, it's a no deal. Hmm, this is more than a heartbreak I tell you.

So, why all these examples? Well, things ain't always the way they appear to be. Until black and/or white's been proven to be that, then, let there be gray areas until something else happens that makes that pale in comparison.

I realize that that expression,could mean so many things sha subject to the readers or hearers, so I forgive your false or not so false assumptions😛. In that case, just leave me with my frozen smile and bleeding heart.

Yours' in heartbreak, adniL.

Flawlessly Flawed

My flaws be my reminders
Reminders that I'm human
So I should rely less on myself
And even lesser on others

But to rely on He that is flawless

My flaws make me, me

I refuse to apologize for 'em

I refuse to hide 'em

I choose to flaunt 'em

How else would you recognize me

Without 'em?

Perfectly flawed

Flaws

My flaws na my reminders

Reminders say na human I be

So make I no rely on myself at all

And especially others

But to rely on Gyim wey stand gidigba

I once used to be ashamed of my perceived short comings. I remember not wearing sleeveless for a very long while because of a keloid I have on my arm. It took me a long while to accept it. But now, I forget it's even there. This is me embracing my flaws and flaunting them too. Go flaunt yours.

Frank Friday: Life & Family

"Family wounds are hardest to heal," I once read somewhere. The statement's so true. It hurts more when betrayed or wounded by people you hold dear. The same ones that are meant to have your back and to shield you from the very hurt they themselves are inflicting on you. You know where it gets funny? It's these set of people that don't even realize they're hurting you. I've been on both sides of the coin (both recipient and giver) so I should know. We toss words out casually and carelessly to our loved ones and are more careful with outsiders (most times), why? This post was to look at how we use our words but now...I'm kinda distracted and my heart's heavy. A lot of stuff ain't making sense to me so, I'll leave you with these:👇 Ciao.

Photo credit; YouVersion Bible App

A Letter To Her Blog

My dear dear blog,

It's with great sadness that I write to you. I'm sorry that I've not been there for you, I'm sorry that I abandoned you, I'm sorry that I've not had enough time for you. That I've not been posting does not mean that I've not been writing. You're always on my mind and you're all that I think of (ok, exaggeration, but you get my drift). 

Truth is, you're not far from my thoughts but so many things have conspired to keep me away from you; time, life, work, studies et al. Life most especially's been a lil hectic.

So this is me saying sorry that you feel neglected, out of sight isn't out of mind. I want to crave your indulgence and assure you that soon, everything will be alright. Everything will be just fine.

Yours'

Preoccupied blogger.