I woke up at one dawn and heard my mom and dad exchanging words. Mom’s voice was louder. Dad spoke in a low tone. He spoke pleadingly. I didn’t hear much of what they were saying. Maybe I did but don’t remember now. I was young. Ten or eleven. Our room was a chamber and hall. We slept in the hall—I and my sister. I remember looking at my sister’s face and wondering how she could sleep through the noise. I couldn’t sleep. Even when their voices went down, I was still in bed thinking of the reason why mom and dad would wake up at dawn and fight. “Is it about money?” I asked. Because a day before that night, I was sacked from school because of school fees. My mind wandered until I slept again. I woke up the next morning and met a very quiet room.
I never woke up by myself when I was younger. It was either my mom or dad slapping my thighs and waking me up to start the day with my chores. But that day, nobody woke me up until I woke up by myself. “Something is wrong,” I remember thinking to myself. My little sister was still sleeping soundly next to me. I got up, went to the door, and knocked feebly. There was no answer. I knocked again. This time harder. There was no response. I knocked and mentioned my father’s name. Still no answer. “Or they are not there?” I opened the door and saw my dad seated at the edge of the bed with his cheek rested in his left palm.
He was sitting still. Motionless. When I went in, he turned and looked at me and slowly turned away. I asked, ”Dad, where’s mom?” He didn’t talk. I asked again, “Dad, why is mom not here?” I wanted to hear something like, “She had gone out or gone to the market or something but my dad sat there silently without any care for my presence. I stopped talking and sat on the floor. Several minutes later he said, “Your mom is gone again. Maybe she might not come back again this time. We are all that’s left now. From today on, you’re going to take care of your sister. You will wake up early, bathe and help her to bathe. I will try my best for you two but you’ll have to take more responsibilities now that your mother is gone again.”
“Again” because that wasn’t the first time my mom had left us. When she left the first time I was too little to notice but I felt her absence. Dad did everything mom used to do and I remember dimly of the things he used to tell me anytime I asked of my mother. He said, “She’s traveled to get you new shoes. I’m here for you until she comes.” I didn’t know how long she went for but one morning, I woke up and she was home with us. Life continued as if she never left. We were whole again. We never wobbled on one foot. The scale no longer tipped to one side. We were leveled—a whole family once again.
The second time she left I was a little bit older so I saw most of the things that happened in her absence. Dad would wake up very early and heat the food we will send to school. We never took money to school because dad couldn’t afford it. We’ll eat something in the morning and put the rest of the food in a bowl and take it to school. When we asked why he didn’t give us money, he said something like, “The food they sell in school is of low quality. When you eat that every day, you won’t grow up to become important people in life. Home food grows your mental ability to think and be clever.”
When mom was around, we’ll return from school and help her in the kitchen. When it was left with us and dad, we’ll return from school and begin schooling again in the house. Dad would be at the shop selling machete and other farming materials. I had the house keys. I will open the door, help my sister change into her house cloth. Drink water because there was no food, then I will start helping her to do her homework and later teach her 1,2,3, and A, B, C, D. When dad returns from the shop in the evening, he’ll give us something to eat and later help me do my home work.
Our TV went to the repairs shop and never came back again. One day, two men in overall entered our house and by the time they were leaving, our lights were off. We slept in the darkness that night. The next day, dad came home with a lantern. I asked, “Is the light not coming back again?” He said, “We have the moon outside. I’ve bought a lantern for the inside. What do we need the light for?” From that day, we gathered around the lantern each night to do our homework. When friends teased us that they’ve disconnected our light I told them, “No one needs the light when there’s a bigger light in the sky.” I was confident though lacking. Nobody could bring my shoulders down.
The day we completed JSS, the whole class hit the street in jubilation, drumming and running through town telling everyone who cared to know that we had completed school. I went home very late. I abandoned my sister. I had the keys in my pocket while running around so when my sister got home, she had to stand at the gate until my dad came to open the door. That was the first time my dad hit me. He screamed at me and called me stupid. He said, ”No matter what happens you don’t abandon your sister, you fool. What if something happened to her?”
I started going to the shop with my dad after JSS. My sister was in JSS one but she didn’t have the keys to the house. My dad will check the time and say, “It’s 2pm. Your sister might be coming home now. Go and meet her. Cook something for the evening. I will come home soon.” When I get home and my sister wasn’t home, I will run along the road and meet her halfway and bring her home. The day I was going to the SSS, my dad took my keys and gave them to my sister. He said, “You’re on your own until he comes back from vacation.”
When I got to the boarding school in SSS, my sister was the first person I wrote a letter to. I told her I was missing her. I asked her to take very good care of my dad for me. She wrote back. That girl had the most beautiful handwriting I’ve ever seen in humans. She didn’t just write. She drew the alphabets and ensured that each letter was polished with acrylic. One day she wrote me a letter and said, “I went to school today and my dress got stained with blood. The boys teased me. They all ran away from me, calling me disgusting. My teacher sent me home and told me what to do. I didn’t know it would come this early. I don’t even have full breast yet.”
That was when I knew my sister had become a woman. From that day on, anytime I wrote to her, I ended it with, “Be careful of boys. The only boy you should have now is dad. Don’t fall for anyone and get your life messed up.” When she replied to my letter she said, “Guess what…Mom came back. All of a sudden, dad is laughing again. I think he’s happy. But the bad news is, she’s sick. She looks frail. All is not well with her.”
I remember throwing the letter in the air and dancing in our dormitory. Yes, she came back sick but once again the family will be whole. We’ll not wobble on one foot. The scale will no longer tip to one side. We are leveled—a whole family again. When school vacated. I rushed home. She was in bed when I got home. I threw myself on her and hugged the life she had out of her. She said feebly, “You’re a man now my son.” I said, “I’m happy to see you.”
What my sister said was true. Dad was sparkling. His shoulder line had gone up again. The wrinkles on his brows were gone. He was lively. Like a kid with his favorite toy.
The last vacation before I completed school, I came home and saw my mother deteriorating. Her skin was peeling off. Her lips were dry. Her eyes had sunk. She couldn’t speak clearly. Our room always smelled of boiling herbs. She was bedridden throughout my vacation. The day I was leaving home for school, my dad said, “If you have anything to tell your mother, say it now. It will be too late by the time you come home again for vacation.” I got the meaning of what he said. I cried. I told my sister. Don’t leave her side. I will pray for her.”
It was August 11th, 2000 when I received a letter from my sister. It was a Friday I remember. The letter was short and straight to the point; “Mom died this morning. Dad had been crying all day. I don’t know what to do. The house is flooded with family and strangers but dad had locked himself up in the room, crying. If you can, please come home. I need a man.”
I jumped into the next bus going to town. I got home around 10pm. Dad opened his door and met me. He had stopped crying. He said, “No need to cry. She had suffered enough. This is the best break she will ever get from her suffering. Let that console us.” I tried to be the man that my sister needed but I couldn’t hold it. I cried whenever I was alone. The family was no longer whole. We were going to wobble on one foot. The scale had tipped to one side. This time, forever.
Dad’s shoulder went low again. The wrinkles came back with their friends to make him look older than he actually was but he soldiered on. The machete business went down so he went into farming himself. I completed university, got a job. made some money and traveled outside the country. I sent money home so my sister can also go to the university and complete. She got married to one of the senior lecturers and later traveled with him to settle in New Zealand. Dad was alone so we got him a woman to take care of him. He later fell in love with the woman and married her at the age of 63. The woman was 57 years with six children who were all grown up.
I came home last three months to see him. There’s something about love that makes him sparkle. He was looking good than I anticipated. One evening we were talking about our childhood struggles when I remembered the one question that had plagued my mind since I was a child. I asked him, “So where did mom travel to anytime she left us? I was young but I remember she traveled for so long before coming back. Where did she go?” He took a sip of his green tea in front of him. He said, “It’s not good to talk about the dead. They are no longer alive to defend their story. I wanted to die with our story but I guess it’s time I told you. You’re a man now. Maybe you will learn something. Maybe not.”
My mom got married to a man her family didn’t like so her family disowned her. She was pregnant when her family pushed her out of the house to be with that man. Unfortunately, the man disappeared. That was when my dad met my mother and fell in love with her. “She was six months pregnant when I found her. I’ve never seen a pregnant woman as beautiful as your mother,” he said. He took my mom in and took care of her until she delivered. Unfortunately, the child died two weeks later. A year later I was born. Three years after my birth, my sister was born.
The first time my mother disappeared, she disappeared with that first husband of hers. She traveled for a funeral and found that man again. When she came back, she pack her things and left without telling my dad anything. My dad got to know about it a year later. He traveled to where she was to plead with her to come back for the sake of us. My mom didn’t come until that man in her life disappeared again. I asked my dad, “And you took her back? Why would you do such a thing?” He said, “I needed her for your sake. That was the excuse I used to accept her back but deep within my heart, I was never whole again when she left.”
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I asked, “And the second time too what happened? I remember I woke up one dawn and heard you two exchanging words.” He started narrating, “I woke up that dawn and saw your mom packing clothes into a bag. She was doing it sneakily so I got up and ask where she was going with the things in the bag. She said she was only folding her clothes but I knew she was lying. I asked if it was about her first husband again and she said yes. That was when the exchange of words happened. She said I had never loved her. I was only keeping her around because of you kids. I called her a liar. I told her I’d loved her since the day I met her pregnant. That didn’t stop her, she packed her things and left. Her last words were, “You’ll never see me again.”
At this point, I was boiling with anger. I said, “Dad, and she came back again with sickness and you still took her in?”
“I’m not good at moving on, I guess. I always used you kids as an excuse but deep down, I wanted her more than I wanted you kids. I don’t know why she didn’t see that. The day she returned, she was so thin I didn’t see her until she mentioned her name. Immediately I heard her name my defenses got shattered. I knew she was sick. I knew she came back to us because she knew I was the only one who could take care of her. It was that trust she had in me that made me take her in. I wanted to rescue her to prove a point. I wanted her to get well so I could look into her eyes and say, “I’m your healing but you won’t stay and get healed.” That’s why I broke down when she died. It felt like I had failed in my mission”
I sighed heavily. I was even tired on his behalf. I asked him, “How about this one too? You love her that much?” He said, “Six kids with three different men who never stayed. She also needs healing. Too bad the healer himself is sick. At this point, we are both healing each other. We’ll be fine.”
My sister is still angry with my mom since I told her the story. She wants to delete her memories and everything she holds dear about her. I don’t know about me but what I have here is not hatred. Instead of hating her, I’ve decided to rather learn what it means to love a woman from my father. He’s 72 years old. I don’t know how long he has left but whichever way it ends, I would be forever indebted to him for this one thing that his life has taught me.
–Panyin Oscar
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Beautiful sad stories! This is what the blues are made from. Love so deep, unrequited yet undemanding.. There is a verse in my favorite hymn “hark my soul, it is the Lord”, that sums it up as follows
“Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above;
Deeper than the depths beneath,
Free and faithful, strong as death.”
This story brought me to tears.
Wow , how we women wish for this kind love.
But we’ve got men leveled with our own type of behavior.lol