Category: Inspiration

  • A memory of a lifetime

    “Ebubechukwu get me a cup of tea”
    “Okay Dad” i replied rushing off to the kitchen.
    “Here it is Dad”.
    “Good. Thank you”. I turned to leave when he said “Wait! Come closer”. I did just that
    “Ebubechukwu never forget to serve a cup of tea with a saucer and a tea spoon no matter where you are. Okay?”
    “Okay Dad. Noted. Thank you”.
    I quickly walked back to the kitchen smiling, thinking of how cool my dad can be.
    “Chika watch where you’re going and don’t fall”, Mum shouted behind me. “And what have you been doing?”, She asked.
    “I just served dad tea”, I answered.
    “Did you rinse the cup before doing that?”
    “Yes mum”
    “Good. Not just the cup, but rinse every dish and utensils before serving”, she said sternly.
    “I hear you ma”. She walked back to be with her husband.
    “Gosh cant this husband and wife stop lecturing me at every chance they’ve got”, i muttered to myself and walked straight to my room.

    * * *

    “Daddy where are we going to?”
    “Somewhere. You’ll see when we get there”, i nodded still trying to figure out what was going on.
    “Did you pack your writing materials and note pad?” He reminded.
    “Yes i did”
    He finally found where to pack after twenty minutes, we came down and walked to the front
    “Ebubechukwu this is the place”. I looked up and found the tall building by the side of the junction. It was located properly at a very busy area.
    “What I’m i supposed to do here dad? Finally speaking up after staring at the long building.
    “You’re here for your first basic IT training” he said smiling at me.
    “Wow!”, i exclaimed as my eyes grew wide.
    “You start today. Resume every morning by ten and leave by two in the afternoon for two months”.
    “Two months?” I asked obviously irritated by how long the training would take.
    “Any problem?” Dad asked looking directly into my eyes.
    “No” i said quickly. I cant disobey my dad and not especially when he looks at me like that. I was still scared that it was too early to do this. I was just twelve years old and as much as the training would do me good, i still wanted to play and enjoy my holidays. But its my dads wish and I’m sure its for the best.
    Five hours later i stood staring at the kitchen thinking of what to eat after coming back from my training class when mummy entered the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
    “Thinking of a fast food to prepare. I’m starving” i replied groaning.
    “Hope you learnt something in your training today “
    “Hmm” i said slowly.
    “Don’t take this lightly Chika, this is a good step for you. Your dad has given you your first step towards independence. While that is good always work hard and remember there’s no short cut in life. You work hard you eat fat. Do you understand?” She asked sternly.
    “Yes Ma”.
    Must every discussion be a lecture, i thought to myself as mummy left the kitchen. Then heating the pot on the gas i smiled finally. Thinking of how different my parents were yet they were the same in many ways. Dad was always lecturing with his deep baritone voice that command a kind of authority you wouldn’t want to go against and mum was always shouting her lectures in a way that even when your ears are closed you’ll still listen and adhere to them just to get her to stop talking.

    * * *

    He was on the hospital bed for months been treated of diabetes and high blood pressure. Every day we were attending to his every needs and it was never easy seeing him in that ill state. I watched him closely and i was confident that he would be alright. One time i even smiled and said “Dad when you get stronger I’m sure you’ll tell us every thing we ever said or did around you”. That was my faith. I believed that he would bounce back strong and healthy. After some weeks we saw signs of recovery. We were all glad and relieved that soon it would all be over. Soon our life would be back to normal. Soon we would be home taking a breath of fresh air and not the air of sickness and drugs surrounding the hospital.
    I went for my clearance for a few days knowing that by the time i come back Dad would be home. Than my phone rang a day to my clearance. “Hello, Chika”
    “Yes. Hi”
    “I’m sorry to inform you but we just lost your dad….”

    Every thing stood still. Like a bolt of lightening it hit me so hard…i couldn’t move…the phone dropped from my hands…i sat staring into space. I couldn’t find any strength or light, only darkness. My eyes were burly…my hands were shaking…my legs got stuck to the ground…and i was there for what felt like an eternity.
    Then suddenly i gave an earth breaking scream. I kept screaming for an hour till my voice cracked and when i had no strength left in me the tears rolled down. It just kept pouring without control. I cried till i had no tears to cry. Days past by and i was still numb; stressing my eyes to reach out to my tears but found none. I had shed them all. I couldn’t make sense of anything, one minute he was getting better and the next minute he was gone. Gone forever. I was angry at the God i had faith in, angry at the prayers i prayed and blamed myself and my so called confidence and faith in God. Even when i got home. I looked hard at my mom but there were no words to say. I left the faith, refused to hope and stayed away from friends. Of what good were all those things? I asked my self. My room was my hiding place and i lived that way for months but when i saw my mom everyday i saw something else. A new hope…

    It was extremely hard for mom. He was her everything. I couldn’t fathom what she must be going through or the battles that waged in her heart. Her sisters came home to help in the beginning and they were truly helpful and supportive, and when they left, something changed. Mum started shifting chairs, rearranging the living room and the entire house and cleaning the store. It was like she woke up from a deep sleep. When i asked her later her answer was ” This is who i was when your dad married me and this is who I’ll continue to be even after he’s gone, he may be gone but I’ll continue from where he stopped. I’ll protect all that he lived for, all that he worked for and all that he longed for”. I was perplexed by her answer and i admired her zeal and strength. She drove us down for the funeral, worked so hard to put everything in order. She fought with the world to protect us. Fought with the society to keep her integrity and principles. She kept us fed and refreshed. She kept her faith alive and kept her fire burning.

    I saw her tears when we failed to meet her expectation.
    I saw her eyes so withdrawn when she felt lonely.
    I saw how happy she sounded when she heard i and my brothers voice.
    I saw how tired she was after the stress of the day.
    I heard her frustration when things were not working well.
    I heard her encourage her self every minute of the day.
    Not once did she become weak. She remained strong and unwavering. She was the true definition of a hero. When. I saw all this i wanted to be more than what she was, so i worked hard to restore my faith, confidence and friends. This time i felt God closer. I was happy for the first time in a long time.

    It was Dads death anniversary yesterday and i remembered how long it had been. What a great man he was and how mum had been a great mother and father to us in his absence. That was when i decided to do something. Mum turned fifty, five days ago and i pondered on how little we’ve done for her and how long it had been since we celebrated anything. We’ve never even gone out to a bar, or a restaurant or a cinema or even a party since dad left us because we had no zeal to celebrate anything. But with mum turning fifty i knew it was time to create a beautiful memory. A memory that would make her forget the loss of dad. A memory that would make our life filled with joy and laughter. So i organized a surprise fiftieth birthday house party for mummy. Our first party in five years.

    Immediately she entered the house the shock and excitement on her face was irreplaceable. It was one in a million. I couldn’t trade it for thousands of naira. Since on the tenth, two days ago, after the party, she hasn’t stopped talking about the party. She keeps praying for her children. This is i and my brothers gift to her. A happy memory of a lifetime.

    These are my brothers exact word:

    My heart just turned 50 this week. I see a lot females mostly online(never in real life) talking about being feminist I get pissed off. Women like this with little or nothing grind out something for themselves while carrying the whole family in our country. Our mothers, aunties, sisters who have to work twice as hard in real life are the feminist the ones we should worship there feet. God , the universe, everything protect the two people for me. I will give anything.

    Dad was the little Ebubechukwu’s hero and mom is now the Chika’s hero.
    He taught me to be independent and she taught me to believe in my capabilities.
    He taught me to create opportunities for myself and she taught me to work hard to keep those opportunities.
    He taught me how to build my world and she taught me how to build my home.
    He taught me that life is good, fun and beautiful and she taught me that there was a bad, cold and evil side of life.
    They taught me every thing and more.

    I struggled with publishing this post for the past two days; not because i don’t want to but because its a part of me that I’ve kept deep and hidden for a very long time for fear that if shared, those memories would no longer be mine. I wanted it to be sacred and to be untouched. But now its not all sad because I’ve got something new. Now i realize that, that pain and loss brought us a gift. A lifetime of chances. A chance to appreciate each other more.

    To all parents who took good care of their kids and showered them with all the love you could ever give we celebrate you.

    To all parents who survived all hardship and struggles to see their children happy but couldn’t stay alive to see them blossom. We celebrate you and we know you see us from above

    To all the fathers who worked hard for their families and waited to walk their daughter to the alter but never got the chance. We celebrate and love you and you’ll forever be in our hearts.

    To all women, mothers, wives, and to all women who have been termed widows, orphans, single mothers and handicapped by circumstances and yet still stood strong, fought hard and came out on top. We celebrate you and we applaud your strength, strong will and sensitivities. And we say you you are the real hero’s.

    To those who have grieved the loss of a dear one. Are you still sad? Are you still in the dark like i once was? Have you found the light?

    You can share them with the readers in the comment section and encourage someone. And if my experience has encouraged you drop a comment, like and follow my blog post.

    You can also send me a mail at nwannaebube@gmail.com i wait to hear from you

  • OVER TEA

    I sat on my bed that morning with a cup of tea in my hand. My mouth was drinking it and savouring its sweet and warm taste but my mind was somewhere else. My thoughts kept drifting towards different direction and occurrences that made me smile, laugh, cry and fear. But it remained on one. A not so funny incidence i hated so much but refused to reminisce about. But now my mind wanted to replay it over and over again.
    It made me wonder why i couldn’t do any thing to two little girls that hurled insults at me because they felt they could, rolled their eyes all over me because maybe they felt i was nothing compared to them and eventually embarrassed me with their downgrading words because they thought i was not of the same standard or status with them. When i played all this over and over again i wondered why i couldn’t give them a befitting reply. It was unlike me . I’m always a straight and direct person who never hesitates to voice out my thoughts and opinions but at that time i couldn’t do anything. Was i too shocked that girls i was much older than would talk back at me with so much lack of respect? Or was i too weak and powerless to do anything? That was not the end after all. An opportunity came and the sad part was that i didn’t use it.

    When we met again by chance, this time i had the upper hand. I wanted to teach them a lesson. I wanted to teach them how teenagers should talk. I wanted to let them know that they were nothing but mere little dolls that had no sense and maybe give them a knock on their heads to reset their mentality, instead the opposite happened. I just smiled and said ‘Hello!, how’s everything?’ When they replied i finally said ‘Bye’. Just like that…really? I couldn’t believe myself. A while ago i was frustrated about not doing anything but now i was smiling at them. I still question myself why they should be the one to go free. They were in the wrong so they should be punished. I was at the right side but i had to receive the insult and suffer the humiliation with a smile and live with it.

    Its also the same thing in a relationship, where after the man has given his time , investment, emotions to his partner. And suddenly she chooses to disappear with one sentence ‘i cant do this anymore’. Who knew it was that simple. Years of emotions, time, dreams all done and dusted and the one who leaves gets to go as she pleases while the one who remains is left with the memories that keep hunting him and the pain too big a burden to bear.

    Why do they just go free? Why do the victims have to suffer because of the pain they inflict? The worst part is the frustration of not been able to pay them back or teach them a lesson for their wrongdoing.

    The answer to my question came that morning. This young man was kind, brave, wise and also small, yet he was set on a mission at that young age. His responsibilities were so enormous that he had to focus on them and carry them out. He was successful in his missions and always attained victory after great difficulty, which made the king promote him and give him a higher rank in the army. No one Knew the difficulty he faced, the hardship he endured because he always came back victorious and this made the whole kingdom sing his praises. His name was on the lips of every person in the kingdom. Unknown to him one person became very afraid of his success. The king! The king became afraid that everyone loved this boy and talked good about all the great things he had achieved and no one even talked about him or even remembered him anymore. Even though he was their king. This fear turned into envy, then it turned into hatred and eventually became a poisonous venom that filled the kings mind. So instead of sending this boy on missions that would benefit the land, he sent him on missions that would bring his death. When the boy found out that the king was after his life he was scared, so scared that he ran, ran far away from the eyes and ears of the king because he knew that the most powerful man in their nation wanted him dead.
    Sometimes he was without food and water yet he still was in hiding. Whenever he somehow knew that the king had found his hiding place, he would leave there and run to some other place to hide. More than once he had a close call to being found but somehow he was saved and wasn’t found out.

    He was at a place called Em Gedi, he and his men were there, they were tired of running but they were still scared of what would happen if the king saw them. They always slept far back into the caves and on this day they heard noises. He asked his men to stay quietly while he goes and figure out the cause of the noise.
    * * *
    “He is on the desert of End Gedi” one of the kings servant informed him. So he took three thousand men and set out to find him. On their way the king stopped to relieve himself so he went into the cave to do just that.

    He walked silently and hid at the corner to find out where the noise was coming from. It was then he saw the back of his robe, it felt so shockingly familiar. It was the king! The king was standing right before him relieving himself not knowing that the boy he sought after was right behind him. Suddenly his face changed from shock to anger. Angry at this man for punishing him for no reason, for making him run till he had no strength and for trying to kill him even after everything he had done for him and his kingdom. Yes he wanted to pay him back. He wanted to inflict the same punishment on him. He moved closer unnoticed, creped quietly, bent and quickly cut the conner of his robe.
    Afterwards he went inside. He was conscience-stricken for having cut off the corner of this robe. He was the king so how could he do such a thing. He knew he deserved to die but he just couldn’t do it. It felt wrong. So he rebuked his men and did not allow any of them to kill him. The king left the cave and went his way. Then the young lad ran out and called out to the king.
    “My king!” When the king looked behind him. He bowed down before the king with his face on the ground. He said to the king, “Why do you listen when others say I’m bent on harming you, this day you have seen with your eyes how the lord gave you into my hands in the cave. Some urged me to kill you but i spared you; i said i will not lay my hand on my lord and king because he is the lords anointed. Look at this piece of your robe in my hand. I cut off the corner of your robe but did not kill you. There is nothing in my hand to indicate that i am guilty of wrongdoing or rebellion. I have not wronged you but you are hunting me down to take my life. May the lord judge between me and you. And may the lord avenge the wrong you have done to me but i will not touch you. As the saying goes “From evil doers come evil deed”. So my hand will not touch you”.
    When he finished saying this the king asked “Is that you David my son? And he wept aloud. “you have treated me well but i have treated badly. you have just told me the good you did for me; the lord gave me into your hand but you did not kill me. When a man finds his enemy, does he let him go away unharmed? May the lord reward you well for the way you’ve treated me today”.
    So he gave his oat to the king and the king returned home, but he and his men went up to the stronghold.

    That was it. The crossroad. The crossroad of going all in or taking a step back. I mean, he was presented with a grand opportunity to strike back but his hand got stuck in the air, he couldn’t do it. Why? The answer was in that saying “from evil doers come evil deeds”. He was just a good and kind young man so how could evil come out of him unless he allowed it. We cant take away darkness with darkness. Only light can eradicate darkness. When you pay back you are no different from the one who paid first.
    No Matter how justified your reasons may be, revenge or payback can never be the solution because you are who you are and the one who watches all things and has the power of the world would stand in the gap for you. You can teach them a lesson by being kind, good and gentle and above all wise. But not by paying back word for word, action for action. It’s insane and terrible. There’s no need to dirty your hands. No need to stress your mind in how to exact your revenge because the truth is the punishment eventually comes. They always get the taste of their action somehow sometime.
    Maybe you don’t know how the king died. But let me quench your curiosity. The king committed suicide. He killed himself. So how’s that for revenge?

    Still holding my cup of tea. I noticed the tea had gone cold. I smiled, i guess my mind and the story didn’t let me pay attention to my tea. But I’m still glad because this year has so much in store for us. Let us choose to spread love, peace, kindness and generosity because that is what is paramount. Letting go of the frustration, pain, disappointment, betrayal and negativity and enjoying every little moment of happiness in lots and loads of laughter.

    PS – please never forget to leave a comment and tell me how you feel . also like, share and follow. God bless you.

  • BITTER KOLA

    “Get me that box Ada”, he screamed at her ” Are you listening to me? and be fast about it”. It was too early to be screaming at the top if the voice especially when it’s still five am in the morning. Groaning, Ada woke up grudgingly as she stood up from the floor she slept at. She dreaded hearing his voice first thing in the morning when she knew what bringing that box meant. That box contained his consolation, his companion, his solace, the only thing he loved having was inside that box but it was also the thing that constantly made his life miserable. She hated giving him that box but who was she to refuse him. He was her father and he adored him no matter what he has become and moreover , she was too scared to disobey him or keep him away from his daily companion so she willingly brought him the box every morning; at the dawn of each day.
    “Papa I’m here, take it”, she dropped the box on the table in front of her father.
    ” I’m I supposed to tell you what to do…go ahead and do what you always do”, he said as he looked at her sternly. She sat down at the corner, opened the box, brought out the bottle and the nuts. She quickly ran inside, got a side plate and a little glass cup. She sat back down and started peeling the back of the nuts, it was a bitter kola.

    Anyone seeing her at that time would laugh out loud obviously finding it hilarious. Instead of praying or reading the newspaper at five am she was busing peeling the back of a bitter kola for her father. She chuckled at the mere thought of it and her father stared at her.
    “What’s funny?” he asked
    “Nothing papa” she replied still smiling.
    The truth was nothing was funny about their situation. She peeled about a several bitter kola and poured the Gin into a glass cup and handed it over to him. He quickly took a bite and sighed in relief as he kept on chewing it and drinking. He was clearly enjoying himself. Ada just sat there and stared at him. She couldn’t believe this was the man that was once her hero, her idol and her pillar. It was every girls dream to have a father like hers but now she was not so sure anymore. She couldn’t recognize him again, he was far from the man she once knew. She looked inside the box and saw everything she was already familiar with; the bitter kola of different shapes and sizes too numerous to count because she always stocked it up for him, the little bottles of white jin, bitter alcohol and bitter liquid herbs. Ever since he lost everything to the hands of frauds and con artists, he lost his ego and identity and he blamed it on his ill fate. His hard work, tears and sweat of twenty years was all down the drain. He lost his will to move on, he just couldn’t. it was like he took a part of him, a part that made him a man and shoved it to the dogs. After that he thought he wouldn’t be able to strive but mother was there to console him, to rub his back and to listen to his cries and wails but when mother died a year later to an illness that was never diagnosed he lost his strength. If there was any little zeal or hope left in him before it was all gone the minute mum was put to the ground. He became silent and still like a river without waves or storms. We couldn’t survive it; especially my little sister Amanda who made everyone laugh at three. Even in papa’s silence she made his eyes lit up with her giggles, play and mischievousness, but when we lost her to stomach infection and malnutrition papa lost his joy. He lost the only thing that filled his life with happiness. That was when it all started. He couldn’t face anyone anymore. He snapped at everything and everyone, he started drinking and drinking heavily. My older brother left to work, to provide for us and escape from the negativity surrounding our father.

    The last straw was when he started eating bitter kola, it was funny at first but when he accompanied it with every bitter thing he could lay his eyes on that was when I wept for him. I knew every time he tasted it he wanted to remind himself of how bitter his life had become, how life had presented us not with a sweet candy but a bitter kola. It reminded him to be hateful, to be resentful of living read herethis site, of hoping and of believing. It became a drug he was addicted to. He walked with bitter kola in his mouth and trouser pocket and now he even took it first thing in the morning and got drunk till he forgot everything, every pain and every memory haunting him.
    Now he talked, he smiled but he was like a desert without water. He refused happiness, he refused success, he only wanted pain because that us what life had thrown at him.
    Looking at him now she wished she could tell him that she’s right here for him, that how can he stop caring when his son and daughter are still alive. That we are the living proof that not everything is lost. That its not over but only beginning.
    “Dad”, she called finally, tired of watching him soak himself in bitterness and drunkenness.
    ” What is it?”, he replied nonchalantly.
    “Aren’t you tired of this? tired of constantly living this way. There’s still hope you know… please don’t give up…and start believing…I promise i’ll help you…please”, she begged as tears dropped from her eyes.
    He simply stared at her too shocked to say anything and clearly sad to see his daughter cry in front of him knowing he was the reason for those tears. The truth is, he was tired but he didn’t know how to move on.
    ” You will never understand Ada so take this box and keep it inside. I’m done!”, he said firmly, walked back inside and shut the door.
    She just stared at the ugly box and shook her head making a mental note to throw away the content of the box during the day. Enough is Enough! she would accept any punishment he gave her but she would not allow him to continue to live this way.
    She prayed silently for him that he would come out of this long overdue grief and come out on top. That even those in the world like him would conquer the terror of pain and suffering and come out victorious by tasting the sweet part of life not the bitter part.

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