Story of a Survivor - Season 1 - Episode 4

5 years ago

Story of a Survivor - Season 1 - Episode 4

Reality dawns…

After the burial of my Father, things happened so fast in the family and after a year of his death, we were living in a Batcher! A make-shift House built with Zinc (roofing sheet) and plywood in the Army barracks at Abakpa in Enugu. This was a privilege given to my Mother because she was a Teacher at the Army secondary school.

Daddy had no written Will at his death and had
not changed his next of Kin to my Mother or our only Son Chinedu so his younger Brother Uncle Amaechi, naturally inherited all my Father had because he has been my Father’s next of Kin in all documentations made by my father before he married.

My father had not changed it because he has had no Son until Chinedu came and I guess He was procrastinating on changing it before death came calling.

Uncle Amaechi is six years younger than my
Father and his only Brother. Dad had three
siblings. He trained his younger brother through School till Uncle Amaechi graduated from U.N.N (University of Nigeria), got a Job with Union bank and married; He is blessed with Four Children, all male. We grew up loving Uncle Amaechi as a member of our family because he virtually lived with us while he was at School. He was around us and he watched us grow into teenagers. His first Son is the same age with our third born.

At the funeral scene of our father, Uncle
Amaechi took center stage as every good
Brother would do. My mother was ridiculed by
the Women of the family, she was tagged a
Witch and a murderer of their illustrious Son.

Insults were hurled at my Mum for bearing six
Girls; they even doubted the paternity of my
Brother Chinedu. Only Chinedu was allowed to
pour a handful of sand into my Father’s grave during the burial. My Mother and her Girls were

“persona non grata”. I have never seen my
Mother cry so hard! None came to console her,
not even my Uncle. She was told to her face that she is a Stranger and should go back to where she came from with her league of Prostitutes.

Some of our family friends that attended the
burial were warned not to intervene as they
could incur the wrath of the villagers. My eldest sister Caroline became a Mother figure to us and protected us from assaults from hostile relations during the burial session because my Mother lost her sanity at the scene and was behaving like a deranged woman begging everybody to have pity on her and let her bury her husband, she told them that she was properly married to their son thus cannot be a Stranger, she reminded them of how she met their son as a student and how they had nurtured their relationship to fruition.

She told them that she was ready to swear any oath to affirm her fidelity and innocence. I saw my once elegant Mother on her knees cladded in black robe begging no one in particular but shouting that the world would hear her plea.

The reply she got was to be spat on by relatives and insulted by those who once saw her as an icon.

Relatives that do come to visit us in Enugu to
seek assistance, relatives who were calling my mother “Mummy” now called her by her first name “Ada” and accuse her of killing their brother. She was forced to drink the water used in washing my Father’s Corpse as this was supposed to bring instant judgment upon her if she was guilty. Mum drank two Cups without flinching and was asking for more to use and bath.