In my mother’s house, she would wake up early in the morning and wash my clothes for me, especially my school uniforms and church dresses. I rarely washed them myself. She would wash them so well and iron them neatly too.

Everything changed when I went to live with my father and stepmother.

My stepmother was nothing like my mother. Every Saturday morning, she would wake us up by tapping us and ordering us to wash our own clothes and do all the house chores. I understand that children should learn responsibility, but it wasn’t just about the chores. She wasn’t warm or approachable. Talking to her was difficult, and living with her became one of the hardest experiences of my life.

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I could not ask my father for money or help in front of my stepmother, or even when she was within earshot, because she would immediately start asking questions about why I needed it and what it was for. It really made me uncomfortable, so I avoided asking.

After I completed senior high school, I wanted to do my hair, my nails, buy nice dresses, and enjoy the little things I needed without feeling like I had to explain or defend every decision I made, something I felt I couldn’t do peacefully while living with my stepmother. So I left with the mindset that I wasn’t ever going to return there again.

Unfortunately, leaving that house created a dent in my relationship with my father.

I was able to pass my exams except Mathematics. I rewrote the paper several times, and all I did was keep failing it. My father would call me every time I failed that paper and ask me to come home to him. He would tell me that his home was always open to me and that there was so much time and peace there for me to concentrate on my studies, learn, and pass, but I didn’t go. I was trying to prove a point.

Even when my stepfather was pushing me into situations that were ugly and deceitful, I still refused to go back to my father’s house. There are things that happened during that period that I still cannot bring myself to talk about because they would shock many people.

Today, my heart is completely broken because my father is gone. He is still lying in the morgue, waiting to be buried, and I no longer have the chance to tell him how sorry I am.

I eventually passed my Mathematics paper, but that only happened after I got married. By then, I had already lost so many years because of that one subject. Since I couldn’t gain admission into the school I had hoped for, I ended up attending a different school, and today I believe that decision has made it much harder for me to find a good job.

These days, I keep asking myself painful questions. If I had listened to my father, would I have gone to a better school? Would my life have turned out differently? Would I have had better opportunities?

The job I fought so hard to get is still nowhere to be found.

I miss my Daddy. I will miss you more than words can ever say. If I ever get another life, I will never walk away from your protection or the plans you had for me.

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As you go, please tell God that I am sorry, and ask Him to open a door of employment for me.

That is all I ask.

— Vera
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