Oru Mu: Sunrise - I
This story is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are a figment of my imagination – most definitely inspired by God and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
At the top of her game, the God-fearing Bola Ifetomi is the person everyone wants to know - she's connected and successful, all this despite her unfavourable upbringing. Not only is her career thriving, she’s been married to the best of the best - Duro Ifetomi, for five years. Bola has the perfect life, she has it all! But Bola doesn't believe so - she thinks her life is incomplete and imperfect, how long must she wait? Just like her upbringing, everybody she knows has something she wants, it’s almost teasing. Oru Mu is the Yoruba phrase for “it’s hot” - will Bola be able to withstand the sudden heat when her perfect life begins to show imperfect lines? How far will Bola go to obtain what she wants most and at what cost?
“Once when they had finished eating and drinking in Shiloh, Hannah stood up. Now Eli the priest was sitting on his chair by the doorpost of the Lord’s house.
In her deep anguish Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly. And she made a vow, saying, “Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life...””
1 Samuel 1:9-11 NIV
NINE
Bola had reached her destination, she parked near the small blue church a short distance away from the brown house on the corner.
The two storey house stood out amongst the other houses on the narrow street, people often mentioned it as a landmark when giving directions to others and it was often referred to as “Ile Baba Bola”. The house couldn’t be missed, it was a home fit for a ruler, the type of ruler who wanted to see everything in his kingdom and on a day like this the way the sun shone on the house made it look even more regal. Kolade Ekundayo wasn’t from royalty, but he was hardworking, that much Bola could remember of him. He’d leave early for work and come home late, just in time for dinner. In his absence Bola experienced things that she had suppressed till now. Fear made her tremble at the sight of the house, questions rose within her, “God why did you bring me here? This isn’t adding up.”
Bola pleaded with God on behalf of baby JJ, herself and her family; she pleaded with God that she wouldn’t have to step foot into the house. With tears of anguish streaming down her unwashed face she pleaded and promised to change. As she pleaded, her mind drifted into nothingness but was brought back to reality when she heard a thud on her car. Shaken she looked around while trying to decide if she should exit the car, she didn’t want to be seen, so she stayed put checking her car mirrors for what had caused the sound. Looking at the crowd of people going to and fro, she spotted the culprit - a small boy in his dusty oversized purple school uniform and his football.
The boy, no older than six, had no idea that he startled Bola, he was in a world of his own - a world in which only he and his football existed.
“Where is this boy’s mother?” Bola thought; she looked into her rear view mirror to see if an adult would claim responsibility for the child, that’s when she saw a slender lady walking towards him overwhelmed by the weight of her handbag, the boy’s school bag, lunch bag and grocery shopping.
“Samuel! Samuel! You had better wait there!”
“Mor-mee!” the boy called back irritated that his perfect world had been interrupted.
“Hmm, Samuel? That’s Duro’s middle name.” Bola thought to herself, unaware of the significance. Bola had been focusing on the boy as he threw his temper tantrum and hadn’t noticed when his mother had stopped at the car knocking on the passenger side window. The woman indicated for Bola to roll the window down; Bola had forgotten that she had been crying just a few moments earlier and hurried to wipe her face before rolling the window down.
Samuel’s mother was so concerned with apologising that she hadn’t noticed Bola’s state and launched into her speech, “Ma, I’m so sorry ma. My son is just so playful and he loves football, sometimes I wish he loved his books as much as he loves to gba ball. Don’t worry ma, for sure when we get home I will have a stern word with him. The window is not broken sha, thank God. Again Ma, I apologise - I’m so sorry! This boy! He is playful just like his father you know, my husband the infamous Ike Okeke. They are so alike it’s unreal...” Samuel’s mother spoke at top speed wanting her words out all at once, she recited her lines as if she had had to apologise for her son’s playfulness a number of times.
Seeing the woman’s concern and distress, Bola wanted to reassure her. “My sister, it is ok. I understand. Just make sure you keep an eye on him when you’re on the road, ok?”
“Yes, ma. I will. I’ve told Ike that he should be the one to pick him up from school one of these days. I’m tired of…”
“Sister. My sister, it’s ok. Please get going and have a wonderful afternoon.”
Samuel’s mum curtsied in gratitude to Bola, “Thank you ma. May God bless you. We will be on our way.”
Bola smiled with slight amusement watching Samuel’s mother tell him off as they headed to wherever they were going. It surprised Bola when they entered the side path next to the blue church - anyone who grew up on the street knew that the path led to the Pastor’s quarters. Bola didn’t pay much attention to it and resumed to stake out the brown house, waiting for God’s instruction.
Moments passed and Bola’s thoughts began to playback the events of the past week and with God not giving her any instructions she was ready to leave.
“Wait.”
“God, I’m tired. I want to go home.”
“You’re home. Switch off your phone.”
Bola was apprehensive, knowing that Duro may call her at any time and because she hadn’t told anyone where she was going. But she knew she had to obey. As she committed herself to God’s instructions, there was another tap on the window making Bola jump again.
“Ah ah, what is it with this street? Somebody cannot sit in their car again?” Bola shouted, raising her head, with her eyes tightly closed from annoyance; when she opened her eyes she saw Samuel’s mother again and instantly felt bad for her outburst. “But really what does this woman want?” Bola pondered. Like earlier, Bola rolled the passenger side window down to hear what was left of Samuel’s mother’s speech.
“Ma, I’m sorry.” Samuel’s mother was hesitant. “Ma, I erm… My name is Seyi.”
Bola grew restless.
“OK. Thank you for telling me your name. How can I help?”
“Ma, I’m sorry oh. I don’t usually do this type of thing, but I’ve seen you sitting here for a while now and I just said a little prayer for you. While I was praying God asked me to erm, to erm… to sit with you in the car.” Seyi sounded uncomfortable, yet she was sure that she heard clearly.
“What?” Bola was annoyed, “God who are you speaking to, me or her?”
“Can I not speak to both of you? Let her in Bola.”
Bola rolled her eyes and scoffed, letting Seyi in.
“Thank you Ma. He said you’d allow me in.”
They sat in silence for a moment, both women equally waiting for God to tell them what to do next.
“Ma,” apparently Seyi had a head start.
“Huh?”
“What is your name? You haven’t told me your name.” Seyi smiled hoping to ease Bola who sat so tense.
“Bola. My name is Bola.”
“Nice to meet you Ma. Wait o!” a light bulb lit above Seyi’s head, “Don’t tell me! Don’t tell me! Are you Baba Bola’s Bola? As in Mr Kolade of the brown castle?” Seyi squealed in excitement, wagging her finger at the house.
Bola was taken aback, what did Seyi know about her and why was she so excited?
“Yes, I’m Mr Kolade’s daughter. Omobolanle.”
“Jesu seun! Thank you, Jesus.” Seyi lifted her hands up in the car praising and thanking God. “I’ve been looking for you! Well I mean we’ve been looking for you for a long time.”
“What, wait… why were you looking for me? Do we know each other?”
“No oh, we don’t know each other, I’m just a friend of your father’s.”
“You? You’re a friend of my father’s?” Bola emphasised each word as she assessed Seyi up and down. What was a young girl like her doing befriending a mean old man like Kolade Ekundayo?
“Yes, oh! And we’ve spoken about you many times.” Seyi wanted to say more, but she knew God didn’t have her sit in the car to tell Bola everything. “He’s such a reserved, sweet and gentleman.”
Bola looked stunned - those wouldn’t have been the words she’d used to describe the Kolade she knew, but rather than raise alarm bells in Seyi’s mind, Bola simply nodded at the strange description of her father.
TEN
Seyi wanted to know what Bola was doing parked on their street but sensing Bola’s attitude she knew she needed to tread carefully. “So… what are you doing here? You came to see…”
“No. Not quite.” Bola was quick to interrupt Seyi before she completed her question.
“I… I see… Erm… the weather is nice today, don’t you think?”
“Mmmm.”
Seyi was sure that God had asked her to sit in the car with Bola but she didn’t know for how long. Seyi was an extrovert’s extrovert, the life of the party type of woman, so sitting in a car in silence with the one person she’d been longing to meet was as uncomfortable as having her eyebrows threaded - painful but necessary. “God, tell me what to say? I can’t take this.”
“Ask her how her week has been?”
“So… erm Bola, how has your week been? I mean the week just started, so I assume not too much has happened, but then again Samuel did kick his ball on your window, which again I’m sorry about. That boy and football, but I guess these are the joys of motherhood, se you get? Do you have children? How many do…”
“Seyi, it’s enough, I said ask her one question.”
Instantly Seyi stopped talking, she had the tendency to ramble on about things without realising, so much so that she hadn’t realised that Bola was crying. “Was she crying before I entered the car?” Seyi thought, feeling bad for not noticing sooner.
“Bola. Bola, I’m... I’m sorry if I said anything to offend you. Sometimes my mouth has a mind of its own, and I’m trying to stop oh, with prayer sha… and… and there I go again!” Seyi paused to assess her next words, “Bola, I know we don’t know each other, but believe me when I say that God really did ask me to sit with you. I’ll be happy to sit with you in silence if you’d like, I’ll also be happy to hear what’s troubling you - despite my rapid mouth I am actually a good listener - and I’ll be understanding if you ask me to leave, you just let me know.”
Bola didn’t react while being spoken to and kept staring at the brown ‘castle’, which Seyi took as her cue to leave. As she was about to exit the car, Bola reached for Seyi’s slender arm, holding it firmly.
“Ple.. please stay.” Bola was surprised by her own request. “I’ve had the worst couple of days. I could…” before she was able to finish her sentence Bola wailed as she had done in the bathroom earlier.
Seyi kept her promise as Bola recited her ‘crazy stuipd’ week. This time Bola did not accuse herself as she had done to Princess earlier, instead, she found the strength to really process the past few days. Bola spoke to Seyi with too much ease and it bothered her a little as to how comfortable she was discussing her inner thoughts with a stranger. This ‘stranger’ listened intently, taking in and analysing Bola’s every word with love and joy and not condemnation and during the intervals of Bola’s uncontrollable tears Seyi hugged her like an old friend and with the experience of a mother after all the young lady was a Pastor’s wife.
“I’m sorry. I’m such a cry baby.”
“You’re God’s baby, you’re allowed to cry.” Seyi chuckled.
“Don’t you have to get back to your son and husband?”
“No, not yet, Ike and Samuel are having their father and son time anyway.” Seyi thought carefully before continuing, “So why do you think God asked you to come here?”
“Clearly to meet you.” Bola smiled as she wiped her nose, “but I’ve been asking God since I got here, maybe He just wanted me away from the drama for a while, or to tell me something… I don’t know.”
“Or maybe to remember someone? When was the last time you saw your father?”
Bola shifted in her seat uncomfortably, “Before I got married. I visited him at his office. I had gone there to invite him to my wedding, but his secretary wouldn’t let me in - ‘his orders’ she said. He never showed up to the wedding. Can you believe I was ten when I left this house?”
“TEN!? How? Where did you go? Who did you stay with? Did you leave with your mother or something? What...” Seyi caught herself before going on autopilot with her questions.
Bola chuckled in disbelief, not even her closest friends knew the full story of her strained relationship with her father, but here she was telling Seyi. “I didn’t leave by choice. I was… I was taken away.”
Seyi was eager to hear more and fill in the gaps Kolade never told her when she asked him, “Taken to where and by whom?”
“You know what Seyi, it’s getting late and I’m sure both our husbands are looking for us.” Bola felt in her heart that even God agreed that it was time for her to head back.
“You’re right,” Seyi responded a little disappointed, but she understood - it had been a stressful week and an even more stressful and trying day for Bola, she didn’t want to add the weight of Kolade Ekundayo on Bola’s shoulders. Deep down Seyi knew Bola would be back, and soon. “Can we pray before you go?”
“If I ever needed prayer, this would be the time.”
“Dear Heavenly Father, Our Father; Bola’s Heavenly Father. The One with us as the sun sets and as it rises, knowing our every move…
Bola’s eyes opened in shock, the way Seyi addressed God was exactly how Ope had prayed for her the night before and again ‘sunrise’ came up in prayer. Bola couldn’t help but think that God was trying to tell her something. But what? What did the sun setting and rising have to do with her, especially now when life felt like the darkest midnight? Bola’s mind drifted till she heard JJ’s name.
“... We pray for baby Jamil Junior and the rest of the family, comfort everyone at this time and reassure Bola that she is loved. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.”
“Amen. Thank you, Seyi! Truly, God sent you to me today.”
“You’re welcome, I believe He sent you to me too! One last piece of encouragement. You are not the cause of what happened to JJ. The way God works is beyond us, I’ll admit and it won’t always make sense to us, but I do believe there is a lesson to be learned. Considering how shaken you were and your initial thoughts about JJ’s death, my advice is that you should be mindful of your words. The words you think, say, don’t say and the ones you pray - just be aware of them.”
“Thank you, Seyi.” Bola wished that she had been spoken to like this as a child, everything bad that happened in the house was always her fault - at least that’s what she grew up believing. Relief and peace embraced Bola at Seyi’s encouragement. It gave her hope - just a small amount of hope, but more hope than she had had in recent months. The ladies exchanged numbers and hugged each other as they bid each other goodbye. Bola waited to see Seyi enter her home before checking her phone and the numerous notifications - everyone was looking for her.
“Hey, Duro.”
“BOLA! Where are you? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for ages!” Duro wasn’t in a ‘sweetie’ mood.
“I came to… I couldn’t stay at home so I took a drive…”
“Well, start making your way back.”
“Sure. Sure, I’m coming ho...”
“Don’t go home. Come to Peju & Jamil’s. We’re all here.”
“Oh.” Bola was scared. “You’re sure I should come there? You know…”
“Yes, Bola, come here. Mummy wants to see all of us.”
“Oh gosh, what now?” Bola thought.
“Bola, you heard me?”
“Yeah, I’m on my way.”
With a deep breath, Bola started the engine of her car and looked at the brown house once again wishing the house brought back better memories.
“You’ll be back soon. It’s not time for you to see Kolade.”
Deep down Bola thought God just liked to see her drive all over Lagos because she didn’t know why she couldn’t see her father yet. But the conversation with Seyi was a reminder that God was up to something. With that realisation, Bola retired her control and surrendered to God’s lead (in earnest this time) as she drove off, “Ok God. You tell me when.”
Little did Bola know that Kolade had seen her. From the moment she showed up, to Samuel kicking the ball on her car, to Seyi entering the car - Kolade saw it all from his ‘royal chamber’. Seeing her drive off he whispered, “Omobolanle”, hoping that she would hear him and come back. He cursed his pride and old age that stopped him from running out to see her, but it pleased him to see that his daughters had finally met each other. In a space of a year, both his children returned home. He’d gone from thinking he only had one living child - Omobolanle, to being told he had another - Oluwaseyi. He wanted desperately to find Bola and tell her “it wasn’t your fault, you did nothing wrong,” but the past wouldn’t allow him because an unwritten law in his culture meant someone had to be blamed for the strange spirit of death that lived in his home. Unfortunately that someone was his precious and blameless Omobolanle, and he did nothing to protect her.
“Seyi said I could ask you for anything - please make Omobolanle come back.”
“She will be back soon.”
Kolade was startled by the familiar voice he’d never heard before; this Christianity thing was new to him, but he trusted the response of The One who spoke.
ELEVEN
What a day. An hour later and I’ve almost reached Peju and Jamil’s place. My mind has been racing, I can’t seem to shake off the feeling that Seyi is someone I’ve met before now, but she was adamant that we’ve never met. Even with everything going on and the wahala I’m about to face, I’m surprised I have space to think about anything else.
I’ve pulled up to Peju and Jamil’s place and it hits me in a different way. We were here just yesterday celebrating the life of baby JJ and now we’re mourning his death. I’m reminded of Ecclesiastes chapter three “there’s a time for everything…. a time to be born and a time to die.” Just the reality of this scripture makes me shudder.
God, what then is life?
God says nothing but I know He is with me right now.
I say a quick prayer before I head in. I’ve spotted Jamil’s ‘boys’ smoking their cigarettes in the driveway. How Jamil is friends with these guys is beyond me - oops! I’ve just seen NJ with them! God give me strength.
I’ve parked and I’ve begun my brisk walk towards the front door, inevitably I have to pass the ‘boys’. They seem to be in deep discussion, but I notice that their voices lower the closer I get to them. The moment takes me all the way back to my father’s house. Aunties and uncles would whisper or stop talking when they’d see me after each incident.
I have God with me - I’m trying to convince myself not to let this get to me. I greet the men without making eye contact, but of course, NJ has something to say.
“Bola oh! Please greet my wife when you see her again.” He is tipsy just like the time he came to our house looking for Semilore. I pity him. Even in the face of death NJ hasn’t realised the need to change his ways. I ignore the request because NJ isn’t my battle today. My battle lay behind the doors I reach to open.
“Finally, you’re here.” Either Duro is happy to see me and is downplaying it or he really isn’t happy to see me. His tone is flat and off, but I’ll let it slide because there’s just too much going on.
The same guests from yesterday are here today, but this time not in their bright celebratory outfits, instead black is the colour scheme making some of the guests unrecognisable. I feel their stares and I sense what they’re thinking but I have to remember what Seyi told me, it’s not my fault.
I kneel for Mummy Ifetomi to greet her and she embraces me whispering in my ear “I was worried about you.” It’s comforting to know that she really does care for me, especially now.
I hug Jamil and I hesitantly reach to do the same with Peju but she doesn’t move. She’s staring into space with her red eyes, it’s like she’s not even here. I can’t be offended, she has every reason to be upset, angry and sad right now.
“Eh, Jamil...” Mummy Ifetomi summons and whispers something in his ear as I take my seat next to Duro but he shifts making space between us, it was subtle but I noticed it. It appears that Mummy Ifetomi has instructed Jamil to ask the guests to leave. Talk about deja vu.
It’s just us now, even Jamil's mother has left to go upstairs with the twins.
“My children, it is a dark day for us that’s for sure, but I trust that God will make the sunrise on us again.”
There it is again! THAT word “sunrise”. For real, what’s going on? God tell me what you’re trying to tell me?! The word grabs my attention and I listen intently at what Mummy Ifetomi is saying, maybe what God wants to tell me is in what she’s about to say?
“God will comfort us all, I know that to be true. I have something to tell you all.” Mummy Ifetomi sighs so heavily it frightens me.
Peju sits up and moves closer to Jamil and Duro reaches for my hand still maintaining the space between us.
“What is it, mummy?” Duro questioned.
“My timing may be off, but I realise there is no such thing as ‘the right’ time when it comes to telling the truth.” Mummy Ifetomi fidgets with her thumbs as she looks each of us in the eye, she is so nervous.
“What truth?” The dry voice is Peju’s which startles me a bit.
“I just need you to understand that what I’m about to say is hard for me, but I need you all to promise to forgive me for not telling you sooner.”
“Mummy! What is it? You’re worrying us. Is it the business?” Duro is getting agitated, another few seconds of Mummy Ifetomi’s silence and he’ll be up pacing again.
“Peju I’m sorry. Bola I’m sorry.” Mummy Ifetomi let out a soft cry.
“Sorry for what?” Duro and Peju say at the same time.
TWELVE
“Your father and I had been married for almost five years before we got pregnant. We lost the baby very early on, but not too long after I got pregnant again, this time with you Oluwadurotimi.” Celestine, a woman that commanded so much respect from both old and young, was confessing something her children had not yet figured out. As she spoke Celestine shook with fear and it concerned her children.
“Mummy are you ok?”
“Oluwadurotimi, please let me just finish what I have to say.” Celestine wanted no interruptions, “I remember when I gave birth to you it was the best day of my life, finally I was a mother! Shame to my enemies who laughed at me for being childless, and it didn’t help that I was married into royalty. Do you know how many women were brought to your father as potential second wives? Each time, your father fought whoever did so, including his mother. Anyway, when you were born there were a few complications that further reduced my chances of getting pregnant again. I was happy and equally distraught at the idea, and to think I had always wanted six children! Another five years later and still no child. That’s when I reconnected with doctor Feyi Adams, an old friend from my secondary school days who is also a fertility specialist. Surprisingly she too had difficulty getting pregnant but eventually had twins. Feyi spoke to me about alternatives like adoption and IVF…”
“Am I an IVF baby?” Peju’s dry voice spoke up.
“No Peju. And even if you were it wouldn’t matter it’s just that I wasn’t brave enough to go ahead with it and at the time it was an area of medicine still developing, I didn’t understand it enough to even consider it. Feyi also told me about surrogacy, which sounded like a much better alternative. The only thing that worried me was what people would say - you know it’s not something we Africans do. At that time, surrogacy wasn’t something people spoke about openly, everything was usually done hush-hush and abroad. I discussed it with your father and surprisingly he accepted. Feyi set us up with an agency in America and it didn’t take long for us to find a perfect match, Miss Tammy. She was so sweet and rare considering that there weren’t many black people on the agency’s register at the time but thank God for Miss Tammy. When the pregnancy was confirmed I moved to America taking Duro with me so that when we’d return to Nigeria we’d do so with a newborn with no questions asked about how I got pregnant. It worked by God’s grace and after a year in America we came back home with you Adepeju.”
Laughter rose and everyone turned their heads to look at Peju. As she laughed hysterically and in a frightening way, her laughter turned to tears. “So, you’re not my real mother?”
“No, no it’s… I mean yes, I am your real mother, you have mine and your father’s DNA, it’s just that I never carried you in my womb and I didn’t birth you but you’re mine. You’re all mine!” Celestine’s response sounded more like a plea than a revelation.
Duro looked stressed, letting Bola’s hand go as he sat back to process what he heard and Bola was doing the same, but also piecing things together. “No wonder she’s always kind to me? She knows exactly what I’m going through.”
“What is it with this family? We have the worst timing I swear! Yesterday this cursed woman planned to take my child from me…”
Gasps rang loud in the room. Jamil reached for the hand of his grieving wife as she stood up, he wanted to stop her from saying something they’d all regret. “Peju! Babe relax, sit down.”
“Leave me, Jamil!” She pushed his hand away with strength. “Now you want to come and tell me this, today? My son hasn’t even been dead for twenty-four hours and Mummy you think this is the time for confessions?”
“Peju, I know. My timing isn’t good but I had to tell you.” Celestine was sad for her daughter.
“OK! So what do you want me to do with this information?”
“I…”
“Actually NO! Forget that - why are you telling us this now?” Peju’s dry voice rose with every word she spoke, making her sound like a tone-deaf version of the late Barry White.
“I… I’m telling you now because you, Bola and I are women and we all have something in common.”
Bola was shocked at the mention of her name, she didn’t want anyone to remember she was in the room.
“I HAVE NOTHING IN COMMON WITH THAT…”
“PEJU! Don’t you dare!” Celestine rose to Bola’s defence and curbed Peju’s attack. “I know this is hard for you, but don’t you dare insult this girl again!”
Peju sat back down, she was angry, but she also knew Celestine was not a woman to be played with.
“Peju don’t you get it! Don’t you see it? I’m telling you this because it is God who gives children. He gave you the girls and he gave you JJ to love, enjoy and care for - it’s hard to accept, I know it is, but God gave him to you and nobody else. God gave me you and Duro and added Jamil and Bola.
You and I have both lost a child, Bola and I have both struggled with getting pregnant, the point I’m making is that we’re three women who have suffered loss in the same area but in different ways. We’re broken women, apart and at odds with each other and it shouldn’t be so. If we come together we can help each other… we can help each other heal.
I know how you’ve treated and spoken to Bola, and in my cowardice, I never really told you to stop because doing so would mean having to tell my story. I thought I was doing enough by being nice to Bola. But every time I see Bola I see myself and all the hardships I went through as a young wife. I’ve told you my truth hoping that it makes you compassionate, Peju. You can’t keep targeting Bola under the guise of looking out for your brother. Has he ever told you he needs you to speak up for him?”
Peju chuckled in disbelief, “Now I see that Bola has succeeded in bewitching this whole family. No problem.”
“Ah! Peju have you not heard a word I’ve said?”
“Since it’s her juju that has stopped Duro from thinking straight, why wouldn’t I be the one to speak up for him whether he asks or not? Duro, you act like you’re ok with everything but I know it’s not true. Tell me if I’m lying.”
Duro gave everyone in the room a hesitant look as they waited for him to say something. Duro was tired, that was true, he loved Bola deeply, that was true too, but if he searched his heart hard enough he’d be faced with truer feelings about their childlessness. He did believe that God would bless them at the right time, but he often felt that Bola was either doing too much of the wrong things or too little of the right things. Part of him even questioned Bola’s involvement in JJ’s death, even though he knew it was impossible that she was involved in any way. Duro was tired from praying, from seeing Bola cry, from watching Peju attack Bola and knowing that his silence on the issue made room for Peju to continue. He had had little sleep since Saturday and as he was being questioned he feared what his tired mouth would say so he said nothing, got up and left.
As Celestine called for her son to come back, Bola stayed seated looking cold trying to process what just happened. Too many times Duro had failed to speak up or defend her, to punch NJ for her safety wasn’t an issue for him but to speak up for her against Peju was - and again, just like the day before his silence continued to cause harm.
“You see! What did I say? If he won’t speak up, I’ll do it for him. After all, we’re certain that Duro isn’t the cause of his childlessness.” Peju smirked and for the first time during the family meeting her eyes seemed bright, but they were bright with mischief.
Jamil spoke his thoughts out loud by mistake, “How can you be so certain? Infertility affects both men and women.”
Peju got up from her seat and gave an absentminded Bola a look that screamed “I’m going to finish you.” Peju didn’t care for Celestine’s pleas for change, if she wanted to change Peju decided she’ll do so in her own time, but the thought of JJ’s life and death would always be marred with Bola’s words from the argument and she wasn’t ready to let go of her anger and hatred. Peju turned her gaze to her mother as she responded to Jamil’s question.
“Jamil, I am certain. After all, there was Abike.”
Celestine’s eyes widened at the name, “Peju!”
Peju left the room laughing as she had done earlier, this time her laughter didn’t turn to tears instead she mumbled a string of curse words till her voice faded.
Jamil sat not knowing whether to leave the room or stay, while he was thinking of what to do Bola tearfully asked, “Mummy Ifetomi, who is Abike?”
“Eh? Erm… Ignore Peju! She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
THIRTEEN
I’ve married into a family of crazy people, Peju is the leader of the pack.
I love Mummy Ifetomi, don’t get me wrong, and thank God that she shared her story but the timing, the timing! It’s almost like her truth has made everything much worse.
Actually no, you know what’s worse? It’s Duro not saying a single word and actually leaving. I can’t do this anymore God! I cannot! And who is Abike? Peju is crazy, I swear.
After the family meeting, Mummy Ifetomi prayed but I didn’t hear a word of it - who knows what I said amen to. And as if I didn’t have enough questions swirling around in my head, Peju gives me another like I’m doing an extended exam in life studies. Who the heck is Abike?!
I hate secrets!
“Have you dealt with your own?”
Huh?
I can’t sleep. Duro wasn’t home when I got back and when he eventually arrived home he opted for the guest room. What is it with Duro and silence?
God, what should I do?
“Pack a bag, you’re heading back home tomorrow.”
I laugh at the instruction. Now I’m really convinced God just wants to test my driving skills, I already have my license. Thanks.
God… I really don’t want to go back there. I want to fix things with Duro and figure out my life here. But really why is this happening to me? All I want is a child of my own so why are you dragging me through this mess? It’s so unnecessary, don’t you think?
“But I thought you said I was in control?”
Ugh.
**
God and I go back and forth all night. I’ve given reasons why I shouldn’t go back and He gives the same answer in different ways:
Trust me
I’ve got you
Believe
Have faith
I catch the sun rising and I’m reminded of Ope, Seyi and Mummy Ifetomi who all used this word. God, what are you telling me?
There’s no point trying to sleep now, I’ve packed a bag, just for a few days and I’ve sent a text to Seyi, letting her know that I’m coming back. Now, do I wake Duro or call him later? I think I’ll leave him a note.
Adeiye & Tara are mentioned in “The Wedding Guest - II”; Aunty Teni is mentioned in “Sometimes, I Tie Gélé - II”
I’m nervous. Am I doing the right thing?
“Yes, you’re doing the right thing. I’m with you all the way.”
Is it strange that I’m comforted by His words but I’m still nervous?
I’ve left the note under Duro’s car keys - I’m sure he’ll call me when he reads it, hopefully, I would have reached my destination by then.
No turning back now. It’s time to face my past.
**
I’ve arrived and it’s still early, the street is just starting to wake up with life and surprisingly I see Seyi standing by the church, in the same spot I parked yesterday.
“I’m so happy you came back, but why so early in the morning?” Seyi is excited, as she watches me park with my window down. Parked, she invites me into the church, I decline and ask her to enter the car.
“Wait, I’m coming back.” Seyi runs inside for a few minutes and comes back with a flask full of tea and buttered agege bread. Seyi humours me, who is this woman?
“Sorry oh! I had to tell Ike you were here and he agreed to take Samuel to school this morning. See how God is moving.”
I completely forgot to ask Seyi if her husband didn’t mind, but it seemed like Ike didn’t.
“Oya! Bola what’s up, why are you here so early?” Seyi asks as she fills my plastic mug with tea from the flask.
I look at the house and pray for strength.
FOURTEEN
Bola held the plastic mug in the palm of her hands allowing it to warm her up, not that it was particularly cold this morning but the warmth was comforting.
“Seyi, I need to see my father, but I can’t do it alone.” Bola hesitated, she felt her request would have been asking for too much from this stranger friend of hers.
“Yes, I’ll come with you. Let’s go.” It was like Seyi read her mind, but Bola had to hold Seyi back from leaving the car. Seyi’s eagerness and ambition was admirable but Bola had more to say.
“Not just yet, I need to tell you what happened first.”
“Oh, ok. Tell me, I’m listening.” Seyi shifted in the passenger seat to face Bola, while Bola’s gaze remained on the house reliving the past in the present.
**
I think my father had married four other women after my mother and each one left or died. He was preparing to marry another girl, this time from Ibadan, a woman who wouldn’t have known our history. I suppose word got to her just before she married my father and at her insistence, I was taken away from the house.
OK, I’ll start from the beginning.
My mother, Oyinsola was my father’s first wife, from what her sister, Aunty Funke told me. My parents didn’t get pregnant for a while and when they did, it was with me. My parents were excited, my father was the doting husband making sure my mother went for all her medical appointments and even got her to stop working very early on in the pregnancy. Aunty Funke told me that my parents were inseparable and so in love, they were true friends.
Anyway, mum had made it full term with me when she went into labour. I was born healthy, and mum had been doing well too. Aunty Funke said that my mum had complained about having a headache the day after I was born, the doctor prescribed painkillers and checked her over saying she’d be fine to go home. Unfortunately, my mum never made it out of the hospital.
On the day we were supposed to be discharged another headache had come on, this time more severe than the last one. She complained of blurred vision and upper abdominal pain on the right side. By the time the doctor and nurses figured out what was going on, my mother had passed away. At two days old I experienced death and it would only become a common thing as I grew up.
My father was distraught as you can imagine, he was now left to raise a girl child alone while also mourning his wife. Aunty Funke had offered to take care of me for a while and a while turned to two years - that’s when my father finally came for me with his new wife. Aunty Funke had been upset that I was leaving her, but she understood.
My father’s new wife was called Gifty. When my father had come to collect me, Gifty was already pregnant. I don’t remember much about this time, I mean I was a toddler, but as quickly as Gifty came, Gifty left. I was in my early twenties when Aunty Funke and I had been talking about everything that went on in the house and that’s when she brought up Gifty. Just like my mother, Gifty had passed away, but unlike me, the child, a baby boy named Ayodele, did not live.
That’s when the whispers began, people had whispered that my father was into juju, that's why his first and second wives died the same way, others said I was a spirit child - ensuring that nobody took my place in my father’s home. I laugh and shake my head at this crap, like I said, they were whispers to start off with. Even when they became loud announcements I was still young, I had no idea what was going on. It’s when Duro and I started trying to get pregnant that I read about a rare condition called postpartum preeclampsia, the symptoms were exactly what my mother and Gifty suffered from. It wasn’t my fault.
My father married again, this time it was a widow who already had a child with her late husband. Her name was Sadiat and her daughter’s name was Aminat. Aminat was much older than me, I was either four or five when they moved in. Aminat was a bully! Aunty Funke didn’t need to remind me of her, Peju reminds me of Aminat sometimes. Aminat would pull my hair, cut my clothes, burn my toys, push me to the floor and the crazy thing is she’d never get caught. But I always got in trouble for something - this further reinforced the whispers of me being a jealous spirit child. Sadiat and my father had been married for a year and a half and she hadn’t gotten pregnant. It became an issue. I’d hear them arguing all the time, she’d blame me for blocking her womb because she had Aminat so how could she not get pregnant again. Rarely did I ever hear my father dispute her claim except suggest “Let’s go for medical tests.”
Isn’t it crazy that just a few days ago I was praying against anyone blocking my womb? How did I get here, why hadn’t I thought this through? But to be honest, even when I had recited that prayer, I couldn’t help to think that the curses of my dad’s wives were eventually at work. Crazy cycles of life huh?
It was an evening that Sadiat and my father had been arguing, and I guess Aminat thought it was the best time to also provoke me. We shared a bedroom and our beds were on the opposite sides, it was dark and I had been trying to sleep. That's when I felt a firm grip on my leg. This crazy girl dragged me off my bed causing me to hit my head on the bed frame and tiled floors. I started bleeding - it’s the reason I have this scar on my forehead. She was on top of me slapping and punching me so hard! She kept screaming “Confess! Confess! Who sent you?”
I cried for help, but of course, our carers were too busy arguing that they didn’t hear my screams. Even at a young age, I knew that if I didn’t defend myself Aminat would have killed me. I don’t know what came over me. I pushed her off me with so much force, it was like her body flew to her side of the room, she hit her back on her bed frame and let out the loudest and sharpest squeal! Of course, both her mother and my father ran into the room at the wolf cry.
When they entered the room Aminat wasn’t moving.
They rushed her to the hospital and thankfully she had only passed out from the pain of her back hitting the bed frame, but the damage was done. Sadiat wasn’t going to risk the life of her only child for the potential of having another child for my father. Shortly after Aminat was discharged they left the house for good, but not before Sadiat spewed out some choice words about me to my father.
“That your child is cursed and you’ll be lucky to ever marry again if she remains in this house! I hope she doesn’t make you her next victim!”
Next was Ibukun, who actually knew my father and my mother, they had all gone to the same university. Ibukun appeared nice, she treated me ok I guess, but she didn’t treat me like her daughter - I was eight or so when she moved in. To be honest, I did believe there was something wrong with me and I started to keep a journal to keep score of every day Ibukun spent in the house; I wanted to see how long she’d last, little did I know her niceness would expire before her tenancy. Ibukun became pregnant with twins some months after moving in - Aunty Funke told me that this time my father decided not to marry, he thought doing so would jinx the relationship. Ibukun’s mother came to stay with us early on in Ibukun’s pregnancy. The moment ‘Iya’ laid her eyes on me I knew I was in trouble.
When my father would go to work, and it was just Ibukun, Iya and I, Iya would give me chores to do, before school and after school. She’d work me to the bone always stating, “I can see the foolishness in your heart. You will learn today.”
Today was every day.
Even with her large stomach, Ibukun would join in. If I didn’t have chores, I was being beaten for just being around. I was always in their way even when I was nowhere to be found. I’ve never witnessed such a beating like that in my life. Even Aminat’s slaps and punches couldn’t compare. I’d wait and pray for my father to come home one day unannounced to see his baby mama and baby’s mama’s mama beating on me, but he never did. He worked long hours when Ibukun’s mother moved in, but without fail made it home just as dinner was being laid out on the table. It was a Sunday afternoon, he was in his study - I had planned to tell him what had been going on when he wasn’t home.
I was about to knock my bruised skinny hand on the door but I heard Ibukun in the room with him, his voice low but hers was raising slightly.
“I don’t want Bola here when the children are born.”
“What do you mean?”
“That girl scares me Kolade and even Mama has said there’s a dark cloud hovering over Bola.”
“What nonse…”
“It’s not nonsense Kolade! You know Iya is very spiritual and her woli is always giving her prophecies about Bola. She can’t be here!” Ibukun started crying as she pleaded with my father, “Please Kolade. If not for me, do it for our baby boys.”
“They’re boys?”
“Yes, my love. Our twins are boys.”
“I’ll… I’ll see what I can do.”
Again, he didn’t defend me. I ran to my room with hot tears. That day I wished I had never been born, I wished I had left this world with my mother. I prayed that day - I had never prayed before. I always heard the prayers of others that flowed from the open window of the newly built blue church. I copied what I heard. With all their shouting, surely these passionate people believed The One they spoke to? I also hoped I’d be heard in the midst of all their deafening noise. I wanted to shout my prayer with such passion too but I was scared that Ibukun and Iya would hear me so I whispered one. I asked The Person to save me.
Aunty Funke showed up the next day and took me out for the afternoon. I told her everything that was happening and I even told her about my prayer. When she dropped me home she spoke to my father and before I knew it I had a bag packed and I was back at Aunty Funke’s place. I’d never been so relieved, that week at Aunty Funke’s place was the best. I was playing a game called Snake on her mobile phone, remember the Nokia from The Matrix? Anyway, a call came through and I rushed to give Aunty Funke the phone. Telling from her expression it wasn’t good news.
“Ah, Baba Bola, good afternoon…. OH!... How is she doing?.... Ok, I’ve heard…. No problem she can stay here with me for a few more days... Ko tope, please keep me updated.”
Ibukun’s babies had been delivered, but there had been complications with the boys, Taiwo and Kehinde. They were only alive for a few days. The shock of their death got to Ibukun, she didn’t eat or drink for days. Then one day she came to Aunty Funke’s house shouting my name. Ibukun cursed me and cursed and cursed. The bit that struck me was when she said “Bola you’ll forever live a miserable life and if you live to marry, you’ll never know the joy of being a mother!” Even as an eight almost nine-year-old I thought that was funny - my life was already miserable and I was definitely not thinking about becoming a mother. Except for Aunty Funke, I had no idea what a mother was so I didn’t dare to dream of becoming one, and can you imagine the sight of a fully grown woman threatening a child as if I were her contemporary? I’ve had a crazy life, people like Peju are not new to me.
While Ibukun displayed her madness, Aunty Funke called my father who showed up and forcefully took Ibukun away. Turns out that Ibukun had developed a blood clot from the c-section that was done to deliver the boys. Even with medical reports, I was still to blame when she passed away.
When things settled, I moved back home and for a few months life was good with just my father and I, but these annoying uncles kept coming over telling him he needed to be married.
“How can a man of your position be a single father? Where have you heard that such is done?”
“Marry ke? Listen I need to rest. Four wives and three children went just like that. I don’t need to have a wife or woman. I need to rest.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. You that can’t go without the thing for one week! I beg! Ok, we’re not even saying find someone and bring her home, yet…”
“...or better still send Bola away for good to stay with Funke and then bring someone home.”
My father heeded their advice. I was ten when he brought Titilayo home from Ibadan. She was a simple looking girl but she was also a million steps ahead. Titilayo made a massive fuss before getting out of the car when she arrived at the house. Under her mother’s instructions, Titilayo was not to enter the house until I had left. She had barely been in Lagos for an hour and she was already calling the shots. Thank God Aunty Funke had been home with me that day and she offered to take me and this time for good. We didn’t even leave with any of my things.
Aunty Funke was so angry to see me, her sister’s child being treated this way and angry at my father for allowing it to happen. Aunty Funke never stopped me from visiting my father, neither did she stop my father from visiting me but I never went to the house again and each time my father did visit I’d stay in my room. I didn’t want anything to do with him. I was later told that Titilayo had a baby boy for my father and everything was going well which made me believe that I really was cursed and my curse was only active when I was in my father’s house. At least I did, until the baby boy Ayodetan passed away from what I now know to be SIDS, just like JJ. Who could they blame now? I hadn’t set foot in the house nor had I seen my father and still my name came up.
Aunty Funke had had enough of the blame being put on me and she had gotten a better job that moved her further into the city. She had agreed with my father that she’d take me with her and that’s how I was taken away for good. I never came back here again, till yesterday.
FIFTEEN
Bola and Seyi sat in silence for a few minutes both staring at the house. Meeting Bola was a dream of Seyi’s, but she hadn’t imagined the time would be full of hurt and trauma. From her conversations with Kolade, Seyi knew Bola had left, but assumed that she was much older when she left and that it was her choice; the worst part for Seyi was hearing how her mother, Titilayo played a part in Bola’s story. Seyi wanted to apologise on behalf of her mother, but she knew she couldn’t say much now. Bola had been going through a lot for a long time and telling from how she carried herself and her notable successes nobody could have guessed that her upbringing was so turbulent.
“I’m so sorry Bola. I can’t believe you went through all of this.” Seyi sighed thoughtfully, “Bola and another thing, you’re not cursed. Not even one bit. Jesus died to take on and defeat the curse of sin and death - that includes any curse you think someone may have put on you and the shame and guilt that comes with believing you’re cursed. Jesus did it all for you and I. He has saved us totally so we no longer have to be afraid or condemn ourselves, especially for things we can’t even explain. Yes, these were very strange and unfortunate events but you had no part to play in anything that happened. You were blameless then and your blameless now through Jesus Christ. Do you get what I’m saying? You are not cursed!”
Bola remained silent taking in Seyi’s passionate words. She had heard these things before, but she didn’t understand them enough to believe them, but today, deep within her The Holy Spirit opened her heart and mind to understand and believe God’s word to be true.
“Thank you Seyi, I needed to hear these words.”
“You’re welcome Bola and thank you for telling me your story.” The women exchanged sombre smiles with each other. “So what do you want to do now?” Seyi asked carefully.
“Seyi, do mind if I stay with you, it’ll only be for a few days?” Bola’s request surprised Seyi.
“Yeah, sure of course you can.”
“I actually packed a bag thinking I’d be staying at the house, but The Holy Spirit has other plans. You don’t mind?”
Seyi didn’t mind at all, she had longed for such a time.
“Let’s go and drop your things inside, we can continue talking there.”
“No. I think we should go and see him first.” Bola was hesitant, but she knew it was time. She had never told anyone her full story because of fear but now she felt ready. She had the strength she had prayed for.
**
“Ah, Aunty Seyi! Good morning, wetin’ you bring for us today.” Philip the gateman opened the gate gleefully assuming that Seyi had come with food as she had been doing daily since she reconnected with Kolade.
“Ah, Phil-Phil! Good morning.” Seyi responded playfully, “I go bring correct iyan for lunch!”
“Ehen, no problem I go wait for lunchtime then.” Philip smiled slightly disappointed.
“Phil-Phil my guy!” Seyi hailed him trying to ease his disappointment, there were more important things on Seyi’s agenda than food. “Eh, Philip we need to see your oga, se we can come in?”
“Eh, you know oga Kolade doesn’t like too many people here - who she be? Na your sister? Be like you resemble each other oh!”
“She’s my friend, we just need to see your oga. Please you know me just let us in.”
Philip obliged although concerned, he knew the rules Kolade had set out for him concerning visitors, but he also knew that Seyi was a nice woman who for whatever reason made it her duty to care for Kolade.
“Wait, make I go tell him you’re here.”
**
It feels like I’m having an out-of-body experience right now. The whole time Seyi and the gateman spoke I couldn’t say a word, my mouth instantly became dry when Seyi first knocked on the gate.
Entering the compound I notice how much smaller the space feels. The walls are still the same, the potted plants leaning on them are overgrown but bountiful with the most colourful leaves and flowers. How could such vibrancy exist in a home full of dark memories?
I see the cars parked, my father always had a thing for cars, especially vintage looking ones. I expected the compound to look run-down but everything has been well taken care of. I guess my expectation of how the house would look was how I’d expect my father to look - right now I don’t know what to expect.
The gateman is saying something to Seyi but I hear nothing, I’m just trying my best not to have a panic attack.
Everywhere I look brings back a memory. It’s overwhelming - I have to leave.
“Bola, wait, I’m with you. You’ll be fine.” Both God and Seyi are saying the same thing at the same time. Seyi notices my hands shaking and holds them firmly in hers as we wait for my father to either come outside or let us in.
It feels like forever before the gateman comes out, this time I can hear him.
“Oga Kolade go come now. He say make you sit down for under the canopy there.”
I allow Seyi to lead me to the shade of the canopy and we sit as instructed.
It was the aftershave that made my stomach turn - it was the smell that caught my attention before seeing him. I can’t believe he still wears this fragrance.
Seyi rises to greet him with a curtsey to him and I should follow her lead but I don’t.
“Good morning Daddy.”
Now, referring to someone old enough to be your father as ‘daddy’ is culturally acceptable, but it’s the way that Seyi says it, like he is her actual father. I don’t know what kind of friendship they have, but I can tell they’re close and it hurts.
I stare at him as Seyi speaks, he is still as handsome as ever, no wonder it was easy for him to marry so quickly so many times. His skin is smooth and his eyes are clear and bright, even under his glasses and the only thing telling of his age is his pot belly, his greying beard and the fine lines by his mouth. It’s not fair that he looks this good, didn’t he struggle without me?
I’m still staring. I can’t believe this is my father, my dad.
I wonder if he ever looked for me.
I wonder if he ever thought of me.
I wonder if he even remembers how I look? I mean I was ten when I last saw him and I didn’t see him when I visited his office all those years ago. I’m sure if he did recognise me he would have thrown me out by now, but I’m still seated under this canopy looking at the man I needed to be my shade, the one I needed to save me all those years ago.
“Only I save.”
“Omobolanle?”
Who said my name? I don’t recognise the voice to be God’s or Seyi’s.
“Omobolanle, my daughter?” The voice is broken and small.
I shake my head hoping to get myself out of this trance that I’m in, maybe I’ll be able to hear and see clearly who is calling my name.
“Omobolanle.”
It hits me.
He.
Kolade.
My father.
My dad.
He remembers me. He knows me.
“Omobolanle. My daughter. I’m… I’m so sorry.”
Someone has superglued me to the seat because I can’t move. I want to get up, I want to hug him, I want to shout at him, I really need to cry but everything is stuck to this plastic chair under the canopy.
Am I dreaming? Did he just apologise?
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GLOSSARY
Ile Baba Bola - Bola’s Father’s House
Gba ball - Kick football
Sha - Right/Anyway
Ah ah - Expression of surprise of frustration
Wait o! - ‘O’ used for emphasis of surprise/understanding
Jesu seun - Thank [you] Jesus
Se you get? - You get me/Do you understand what I’m saying
Wahala - Trouble
Juju - Blackmagic
Oya - Let’s go/Right now
Iya - Mother
Woli - Prophet
Ko tope - It doesn’t require thanks/No problem
Marry ke? - Marry, really/how?
Wetin’ - What
Iyan - Food made from boiled yam that’s pounded (Pounded Yam)
Efo - Vegetable Stew/sauce that goes with pounded yam
I go bring correct iyan for lunch! - I will bring really good pounded yam for lunch
Ehen - Expression for ‘really’ and for emphasis
Oga - Boss/Manager
Se we can come in? - So we can come in?
Who she be? - Who is she
Na your sister? - Is she your sister
Be like you resemble each other oh! - You both look alike
Make I go - Let me go
Oga Kolade go come now - Boss Kolade will be coming shortly
He say make you sit down for under the canopy there - He said have a seat under the canopy
Chai - An expression for shock/excitement etc.
Puff-puff - Sweet doughnut like pastry
NEPA - National Electric Power Authority the former name for Nigeria’s power/electricity organisation but the abbreviation is still used as a ‘nickname’. Official name is Power Holding Company of Nigeria
Ma sukun - Don’t cry
Gist - Story, info, 411, gossip