DIARY OF A SINGLE MUM…..(18+)…..Part 2

IF YOU MISSED PART 1 CLICK HERE

Sometimes what we do when we are alone is our most safeguarded secret we do not want others to find out. The big guy upstairs must be shocked times without number at what His creations in His image do in the sanctuaries of their secrets. Why we do not want anyone to see or know our hidden things is because at the core of our conscious we know that it is a sin yet we continue giving excuses for it. Some people think that if others are not seeing them then God is not seeing them too. uhmm typical of a human mind. I tell you there will be drama at the judgement day.
What my eyes saw, paralyzed my heart with fear and shock. I couldn’t sponge the sight before me without feeling faint and a desire to throw up. Viyegzo was lying in the pool of her own blood while wrapping the baby in tattered cloths with all her remaining strength.
” i will kill you if you utter a word to anyone” i could barely hear her voice. My childish mind told me that something was amiss. i walked backwards and looked if i could find someone to help. It was all silent. I started running fast to find my mum. I run all the way as if the wind itself carried me. I found her and breathlessly narrated my ordeal. My mum was so shocked and pale. She shouted for Viyegzo’s mum in the neighboring field and together with other women we started off. Her mum continue wailing all the way as if there was a funeral. sometimes i don’t understand why women wail like that. Whether in earnest or in pretense you can never notice the difference or else go ask Nigerian actors they know best.
We were finally home. The women went to the bathroom as i had said but Viyegzo was not there and it was spotless. Naah if you could see how these women insulted my mum for raising a liar and spoilt kid like me , you would think they got paid for it. How could i have spoken things that were not worthy of me at my age? Viyegzo’s mum said her dear daughter had left for her friend’s place at the neighboring village earlier that morning and she had actually seen her off. She shouted at my mum that we were on a mission to destroy her family’s reputation because we were jealous of her daughter’s success hence i would never see the corridors of a secondary school. That broke my mum.
What happened to Viyegzo is another story for another day.

Since that day, it was like i had initiated myself in trouble. We carried on very well. I could beat and bully my classmates at school and defied my teachers to the extent of banning me to attend most of their lessons eventually i failed examinations and repeated three times in Standard 5. When we went to the lake swimming and washing with my friends, i could hide their clothes until dark. They would be going back home naked and crying. It used to give me amusement and satisfaction to see them suffer. The beating i would get from my dad later on sometimes made me think he was not my real father.
My mum was outside peeling cassava to make Kondowole flour for our nsima while my dad was at the lake mending fishing nets with his friends and i knew they would not be back anytime soon. I saw that opportunity as perfect to go in their room and find what i could steal. I went through my mum’s purses and handbags but i did not find anything i liked. A hymn book and a new testament bible were not my ‘thing’. I searched my dad’s pockets but found his tobacco and medicine for his cough. I never understood what pleasure he found in that smelly stuff. The tobacco was draining him sip by sip but he was too stubborn to see it. I looked in their traveling bag. excitement coursed in my blood as i touched something papery at the bottom and knew instantly what it was. Money and a lot of it. These people were cruel. The previous day my dad had refused to pay money for the book i had torn to tatters when my classmate refused to borrow it to me.Now what was this? I decided to tech him a lesson by taking all the money and spend it on those sweet candies i loved the following day at the market. I stuffed all the notes in my
p@anties and smothered the bulge which was showing. I smiled to myself.
I turned to go.
“Wangu uchitanji munu?” (What are you doing here Wangu?)
It was my father……………….

CLICK HERE TO READ PART 3



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