Entry 13
ABBY:
Months went by. I got registered in my cousin’s school, Aunty didn’t quit her business, and Uncle wasn’t as happy as he used to be.
Then one Saturday evening, Uncle got a call from Mr 16’s school. Bear in mind, up until this point, there hadn’t been any issues. The head teacher wanted to see him.
When Uncle returned, he came back with Mr 16.
What happened?
Well, Mr 16 and his friends had been playing football behind the classrooms—something that was strictly forbidden, especially during the mandatory siesta time. Unfortunately, they kicked the ball too hard, and it shattered several louvre windows in one of the classrooms.
One of the teachers rushed over from the staff room. All of Mr 16’s friends ran—but he didn’t.
He was marched to the staff room, asked to kneel, and just as they were about to flog him, he held the cane and said, “Do you know who my parents are? I’ve got my Amex card here—tell me how much, and I’ll transfer the money. You can’t hit me with that rusty, cheap piece of garbage.”
Okay, now that was new.
The teachers didn’t know what to do with him. So, they suspended him—for a whole semester.
And that, ironically, was the exact day Aunty decided to go into labour.
I went with her in a taxi because Uncle had already gone to Mr 16’s school. She had a baby boy, and throughout her two-day stay at the hospital, Uncle didn’t show up once.
Anyway, we returned home with the baby—again, in a taxi—and as soon as Aunty walked in, she started yelling at Uncle for not caring.
He didn’t say a word. He just walked away into the bedroom, leaving all of us standing there, perplexed.
The next day, I heard a knock at the door. I opened it—and there were my parents. Right after them came his parents. I thought, Yes, they must have heard Aunty had a baby. Which, of course, was true.
That evening, Uncle returned from work and greeted everyone. Then he turned to me and said,
“Abby, please stand up. Today is the day I tell you why I came back to the village to get you when your Aunty sent you back…”
Hmmm…
CHRIS:
When people say, “I wish the ground would open up and swallow me,” I never understood—until that day Bisi took me to meet her father.
She’d poured bottled water on me to wake me up. I was still confused, still scared—but she was determined.
We drove into a compound so large that we were still driving for a full minute before we reached the front of the house.
She had to drag me out of the car and pull me along as we went inside.
Her parents were already waiting.
As I stepped in, to my utter surprise, her father stood up and walked towards me. I flinched, thinking a punch was coming—but instead, he pulled me into a hug and said:
“Our dear son-in-law, you are welcome! Bisi has told us so much about you.”
Her mum came forward too and ushered me into a seat beside her. “Come, my son, sit. Don’t be shy—after all, you put that bundle of joy in our daughter.”
Now, you must understand—I couldn’t tell where the sarcasm ended and the real stuff began.
They had these surreal, too-wide smiles plastered on their faces as they began to interrogate me.
Before I knew it, the father said,
“Son, you’re family now. So I think it’s time you owned up to your responsibility. Get a job, a house, and the money to take care of Bisi. We can’t be feeding Bisi and your child now, can we?”
And then Bisi frowned and replied,
“Come on, Dad, what are you saying?”
Her mum laughed and said,
“Bisi, you keep telling us you’re an adult who can make her own decisions. Well, you’ve made one—and now you’ll have to lie in it. We can’t be responsible for someone else’s child, now can we? You and your husband-to-be need to find a place, work, and start your own family. That’s what your father and I had to do before we made it this big. There’s something called tough love. You can’t pick and choose when to be an adult—you’re either a child or an adult, and you’ve decided on the latter. So all the best.”
And that’s when Bisi started yelling and crying. She said a lot—I didn’t catch it all—but the bit I did catch……
Hmmm…
Please comment below
