I don't know which I would even say is better. My life on earth as a human, or my life as a ghost. In less than 24 hours after my death, things and secrets my eyes have seen are far greater than things I witnessed in my entire 32 years on earth. I have witnessed the killing of an innocent man simply because he sells more than his rival. I have come to discover that my sister has been stealing my money and jewelries for a very long time. Not to mention the fact that I caught my best friend and my wife in a love affair, that my wife tried to kill me by poisoning my favourite food. I don't even know what to make out of my pregnant little sister who just tried to commit an abortion. But believe me, what my eyes and hears have seen and heard so far can not be compared to the shocking truth I discovered when I got back home with my little sister. If not because I'm dead already, what I discovered was enough to send a man to his early grave. I carefully followed my sister back home to be sure she would not change her mind half way to go back to the quack doctor. Well, not that I could do anything if she changes her mind, but atleast, knowing she isn't going back gave me a kind of comfort. On our way back, we passed by Mallam Ali's house again. The number of people there had increased, and most of them were Hausas like him. They all gathered in small groups discussing in their local dialect. Oga Titus was no longer there, and I was sure he would already be at his shop to sell to those who would see him as the last resort when it comes to buying good and quality things in the street. As a matter of fact, not that people didn't really like to buy from Oga Titus, but his things were always a little to expensive, and he had a "I-don't-have-change" attitude, unlike Mallam Ali who would go extra miles to satisfy his customers, and still brighten up their day with his funny English, diluted with Hausa language. My sister sneaked into the house through the back door because guests were already in the sitting room. Mena was also in the sitting room dressed in her black gown, a symbol of a mourning widow. But, do I say Mena was really mourning me? Or, she was celebrating my death. She cried when people were around, but she smiled and laughed when she was alone. My mother was still in the visitor's room with Tade, while Pricillia was sitting beside Mena in the sitting room. "Madam, may God comfort you." Oga Landlord said. I am sure my landlord came immediately he heard the news because my death means he has lost one of his faithful tenants who would pay for his rent weeks before it expires. In the middle of it all, Mena's phone buzzed. She picked up the phone to see what it was. It was a whatsapp message from Chike. I didn't really bother myself so much about it, because I felt there was nothing they could do that would be as worse as what they have done already. I rested on the chair behind her so as to get a good view of the chat. "How are you?" Chike's message read. "Fine" Mena replied. He asked about her well being, and if she had eaten, and she replied with a smiley I didn't know what it meant. The next message Chike sent was what would have killed me if I was still alive. "How is my son?" Chike's message came in. The first time I read the message, it didn't strike me with the right meaning, but Mena's reply brought me to the reality of what was happening. "He is fine." She sent. "He is with grandma." She sent again. "Please, make sure my son eats oooo" Chike sent again. That was when I realized that there was nothing else to say or do about this issue, I was fathering a son that is not mine all along.
© 2015. Austus Ofmat Nwanne
You didn't see that coming. Did you? Well, that's what we have. A Yoruba adage has it that it's only a woman who knows the father of her child. The heart of man is deep. Who can know it? Mena has "generously" given another man's pregnancy to her loving husband, and the father of this child is her husband's best friend. Well, the story is about to come to an end. So, join me again tomorrow as we take the concluding episode of the story.
For as many that are yet to join our broadcast list, and have missed a lot of stories, this very time is the best time to join. As for those already on the broadcast list, don't you think it's high time your friends started receiving DAILY DIET directly on Whatsapp too? If you or your friends want to receive the stories via Whatsapp, simply send me a Whatsapp message to this number, +2348072970850 and you can add me on BBM @ 55FD2871. Also, if you have a story you would like us to feature on Daily Diet, simply send it to the e-mail below, and don't forget that your story would carry your full name as the author. Visit my blog for more outstanding articles and stories @ www.tyobstacle.blogspot.com
HAPPY FRIDAY !!!
------------
AUSTUS OFMAT NWANNE (Mr. Tackle)
Inspirational Speaker and Business Consultant,
TYO Konsult Services.
+2348072970850
tackleyourobstacle@gmail.com
0 comments:
Post a Comment