I was too young to know what was going on in my father’s life. He was a car mechanic. He left home for work in dirty cloth. I couldn’t understand it. I asked my mom, “Why does dad go to work in a cloth that’s already dirty? Martin’s father goes to work in a white shirt and comes back home looking the same.” She said, “They both have different work so they wear different uniforms. At the end of the day, they both come home with clean money. That’s the most important thing.” I remember telling my mom, “When I grow up, I want to work in clean clothes like Martin’s father.”

One day my dad came home with a brand new Opel Astra. I didn’t hear the story behind it. I saw my mom jumping up the sky and praising God. For days, my mom danced and sang. Dad no longer went to work in dirty clothes. He dressed up in clean clothes, drove his new car out, and came back later in the evening, still in clean clothes. It was later my mom told me that dad had changed jobs. She said, “He’s no longer working in the shop that made his clothes dirty. He’s now a taxi driver.

I was proud of him all over again. I saw him as equal to Martin’s father. When he was a mechanic, he attended PTA once in his working gear and I didn’t like it. I stopped telling him about PTA meetings. I told my mother and begged her to attend instead of my father.  One day my dad attended PTA in his Opel and I couldn’t wait to show him off to everyone in school. His new job excited me. His new way of dressing thawed my heart but what caused that change in my father’s life, I didn’t know and I didn’t care to ask. I was only a boy in class six going to JSS one. I didn’t care about the reasons. All I cared about were results.

By the time I was going to senior high school, dad had three more taxis. He slept more and went to work later when he felt well-rested. He told me what happened to change his life; “That car, I didn’t buy it. It was a gift from a White missionary I was working for. He brought the car to the shop whenever it developed a fault. He trusted my work so much he didn’t give his car to anyone to work on it. When the time came for him to return to his home country, he gave me that car. He gave it to me on one condition; that someday when someone is in need and they come to me I wouldn’t say no to them.” I asked, “Is that all? You didn’t pay anything for it?” He said, “No I didn’t. I will only pay for it in the future. When someone in need comes to me.”

I saw it in his deed. He always tried to help others. Even when he didn’t have it, he tried his all to give something to whoever was in need.

When I was at the university, I met Joan. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. She was in my course group. After lectures, we stayed behind and learned together. She was smarter than I was. She was always the one teaching me. Her beauty brought her problems. The boys wanted her. They always stopped her in her stride, asking her to be their girlfriend. She said no to them. She said she was in school to learn and not make love. She told me about the proposals she got. I encouraged her to stay stronger.

We were in our second year when her father died. She told me, “Adam, I’m finished. I doubt I can complete school. Who’s going to feed me? Who’s going to pay my fees? Who’s going to buy the books that I need?” I didn’t have answers. I had encouragement. I told her, “Just stay strong. You’ll only find help when you’re in need. Help will come. All it takes is time.” And then a Nigerian guy came her way. He was rich, bold, and handsome. She told me, “I may say yes to him. He said he’ll help me.” I asked, “Do you love him?” She said, “It’s not love we are talking about here. I’m in need. He’s here. He says he’ll help.”

She was owing school fees. She was perching with a friend because she couldn’t afford hostel fees. She was relying on me for sustenance. Life was hard. Then I remembered what my father told me. The promise he made to the white missionary. I went to him. I said, “There’s a girl in my school. Her father died and she’s on the brink of dropping out of school. Can you help her?” He asked,” Is she your girlfriend? You want to collect money from me to take care of your girlfriend?” I said, “Dad, you know me. I will never do such a thing. She’s my friend. She’s brilliant. She teaches me a lot of things. That’s why I’m asking for help for her.”

He said, “Bring her home. I want to see her.” When I was leaving he said, “You’re in the same class with her, right?” I said, “Yes.” He asked, “That means you’re paying the same fees, right?” I said, “Yes Dad.” He gave me the money. He said, “I want to trust you. Send her my regards.”

We were learning one evening when I gave her the payment receipt. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She screamed, “Tell me you’re joking. How? Where did you get the money?” I said, “I told you help may come. I paid. That’s the most important thing. From now on you don’t have to worry about fees. I’ll pay.”

When we were in our final year, I took money for her fees and hostel accommodation. I even took pocket money for her. She was stunned. She asked me, “Why are you doing all this?” I said, “Because you’re my friend. I can’t watch you drop out with all this intelligence. We’ll go through together.” She thought I wanted to date her. She asked if I was shy to say it. She said, “Be bold. Tell me. I won’t bite you. Do you want us to date?” I said, “Naaa that’s not the point. You’re my friend and that’s enough.” She asked, “You won’t be bothered if you see me dating someone else?” I said, “I will be bothered. It will take your mind away from your books and from me. I don’t want that to happen.”

Time moved. We completed school. She asked me, “Now what?” I said, “We go out there and kick ass. We need to succeed in life so we can also help others.” She still didn’t understand the whole thing until our graduation day. Dad was there. Mom was there. Looking at the height of their shoulders, you could see they were proud. My second class didn’t matter to them. What mattered was that their only son had completed the university. When we walked out, my mom and dad were already there waiting for me. I said, “Dad, here’s the girl.” He asked, “Joan?” I said, “Yeah, that’s Joan.” My mom said, “Wow, she’s beautiful.” My dad said, “Joan, I heard about your dad. Sorry about everything. Now that you’ve completed, go out there and make him proud.”

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All this while, Joan was standing there looking lost. she was looking at me for answers. She said, “You told your parents about me?” I said, “Every money I ever paid or gave to you came from my dad. He heard your story and decided to help.” She didn’t know what to say. She started crying. She hugged my dad. Dad said, “It’s alright. It was given to us so we can give to others. It’s your turn now. Don’t say no when you can help. Don’t postpone kindness. Don’t say tomorrow when it’s possible today.”

She kept crying. She continued saying “Thank you, dad.” It looked like a daughter and a father reunion. The kind of reunion the prodigal son had with his father.

Joan came home with her mother to say thank you. Her mother said, “You two look good together. You should think of getting married. She’s better because of you. Don’t let another man enjoy the fruit of your labor.” The truth is, I had zero amorous feelings toward Joan. We had stayed together for so long she became like a sister to me. I don’t believe she had any feelings for me. If she did then it was because of the help I gave her.

We both went in different directions but we kept in touch. After National service, she got a job at a bank. She had worked so hard to get to the top of the hierarchy. I was at her wedding. My parents were there two. Her husband is a kind man who calls me “Akonta.” I was at the christening of her first child. A boy. They named him after my father. She was also at my wedding. She was at the christening of my three kids. We are a family now. We meet every year at my parents’ house to celebrate Christmas together. She has become the sister my parents couldn’t give me.

–Adam 

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