Lekki Sisi - S01 E70

2 years ago

Lekki Sisi - S01 E70

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 70

He nodded. ‘We went to different schools but we found a way to see each other even though her father didn’t approve of our relationship. When I graduated from secondary school, I took up apprenticeship with an electrician because there was no money to proceed to the university. Funke was in SS2 then and we still met every afternoon.

‘When she left secondary school, she got admission into the university of Ibadan and her parents moved to the north. I proceeded to the Federal Polytechnic, ile oluji.’

‘Was that where you met mum?’

‘Yes. Your mum lived in the same compound with me. She always brought food to my room. She liked me a lot but Funke was all I thought of. Twice every month, I travelled to see Funke in school. Until one day, her father walked into her apartment and right there I was, on her bed in boxers. They got police to arrest me. I was flogged so badly. I returned to the school and decided It was over with Funke. That was how your mother and I got intimate. She moved into my room that semester.’

‘But mum never got to finish HND.’

‘Yes, she had to stop schooling because there was no money. The little money I got from repairs went to food and my school fees. Things became difficult when I began my HND and your mum was pregnant with you. By the time I rounded up school, Yetunde had arrived. I went berserk when she announced she was pregnant with our third child some years later. Shortly after Gbenga was born, Funke returned to Akure for her father’s burial. That was when I discovered she had been pregnant.’

‘So, you didn’t know she was pregnant before Gbenga was born.’

He shook his head. ‘No I didn’t. I had completely cut off from her. She brought my daughter to the funeral and said she loved me and wanted me to come to Abuja where her father had some properties. She knew I loved business and for me it was an opportunity to pursue my dreams. Some weeks after she returned to Abuja, I told your mum I had a job to do for a client in Lagos. I never came back. I sent a letter to your mum telling her I wasn’t coming back.’

I stared hard at my dad. ‘That was really cruel of you to do. We were not important to you. Why do you want us back?’

‘I’m sorry. It was a mistake.’

‘We suffered dad. We went through hell.’

‘Tinuke, after I married Funke, I wanted to get back into your lives, but your mother refused. She wouldn’t even allow me talk to you.’

Tears stung my throat. ‘Why would she, after the way you ran off like that.’

‘I know. I don’t deserve your forgiveness or that of your mother. I was selfish to disappear like that. For years while I lived with your mother, I consumed lots and lots of old business magazines. I had these business ideas that I played with in my mind and when Funke presented that opportunity, I jumped at it. I take the blame for whatever has happened. Forgive me please.’

I sighed. ‘I forgive you but you have to get mum’s forgiveness too. You also have a son who needs you.’

‘Gbenga was at my place yesterday. We had a long talk.’

‘That leaves mum then.’

‘I’m hoping I’ll be able to talk to her. I messed up.’

The waitress cleared the table and returned with dessert. The ice-cream was thickly covered with nuts and milk chocolate. I scooped a spoonful of ice-cream to my mouth and relished the way it melted on my tongue. When I grinded the nuts with the cream, I was taken to another realm. It tasted heavenly.

‘For goodness sake, what did they put in this ice-cream.’

My father watched me, smiling.

‘Shade told you I was fired right?’ I asked, when I had emptied the cup of ice-cream.

He nodded. ‘When she did, I was not happy at all. I didn’t even know you were my daughter but the report I got on the deals you landed was astounding. I told her if Monica decides to pull out, so be it. We can’t be puppets to anyone. I wanted her to find you and bring you back to head the finance department.

‘Then one day, I was going through a file and I saw your name, which I already knew but the surname was one I was familiar with. I’m not sure if your mum told you, but she had insisted you bear her father’s name until I pay the bride price. That day, I asked myself, could this be my daughter? I asked Shade to send me your picture and other details. I shouted when I saw your picture. You are a younger version of your mother. You took my fire though.’

I chuckled. ‘That knack for business. It had to be from you.’

‘Tinuke, please come back to your company.’

My company. That sounds sweet. ‘I need some time to think through this.’

The hospital where mum had been admitted was somewhere in Ikoyi. At first I was confused if I was in a wrong address. It looked more like a hotel than a hospital until I saw some nurses at the reception. I asked directions to mum’s ward. A pretty nurse led me down a narrow hallway and into a room.

The room looked nothing like the hospital rooms I’d seen. It was cozy. There was a flat screen, a fridge, and the bed was big. My mum looked like a queen lying on that bed.

Yetunde was sitting on the bed, while my brother sat beside her. Their faces were drawn. Mum’s face was smeared with tears. I panicked.

‘What’s going on here?’

‘She knows dad paid for her treatment. She is mad at us.’ Gbenga said.

I sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Mum, you have to forgive dad. Please let it go. Please.’

Mum sat up and I quickly placed a pillow against her back.

‘After everything I did for you. Where was your father when we slept out in the cold. Where was he when I had to go hungry for days so you could eat? Where was he three months after Gbenga was born and I was left to take care of all of you. I can’t believe you did this to me. How could you accept a man who left us for another woman.’ She lay back on the bed and faced the wall.

We surrounded her. I placed my hand on her shoulder while Yetunde kept planting kisses on her palms. My brother Gbenga drew lines with the finger on her bandaged leg.

‘Mum, we love you and we will never forget the sacrifices you made for us. But we can’t deny we have a father.’ I said in low tones.

Mum turned sharply, eyes moist. She stared at me a long time and faced the wall again.

‘Dad is here. He wants to see you.’ I announced.

Gbenga’s eyes lit up. He broke into a smile but the smile quickly disappeared when he saw my mother’s eyes fixed on him.

‘I don’t want to ever set my eyes on him! I want to go back to Akure.’

Yetunde touched my mum’s ears. ‘Please, just hear dad out.’

‘I said No. Can someone just get me out of this place.’

‘The doctor said, you can’t leave until next week.’

‘I don’t want to see him.’ My mother repeated. ‘Yetunde, return the 2 million naira. Tell him he can’t buy me with his money.’

I stood up and went out to meet my father who was sitting at the reception.

I shook my head. ‘She doesn’t want to see you. She is already mad at us for contacting you.’

‘I understand. Please can I pay a sum into your account monthly for her upkeep. I just don’t know how to make things right.’

‘What’s your wife’s reaction to all these?’ I asked as we stepped out of the reception.

‘She is concerned too. I keep her informed with every progress.’

Dad reached into the car and pulled out an envelope from a folder.

‘Can you give this to your mother. I poured out my heart into the letter.’ I took it from him. ‘Tinuke, let me know if you need anything.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Can I hug you?’

I nodded. He pulled me into his arms. Tears welled up in my eyes.

‘I love you. Thank you for giving me another chance.’

I waited till the jeep pulled out of the compound. When I returned to the room, my siblings were singing for my mother. I joined in and we began to tell stories from our childhood. Mum was still facing the wall, but she was smiling. That made me happy. No matter what, our mother’s sacrifices will always remain in a safe place in our hearts.

The police officer who had kept me up to date on Adunni’s case called me on my way back to Mimi’s house. Judgement would be delivered the following morning. He didn’t think Adunni would get away with the murder of her husband. She had pleaded guilty to poisoning her husband.

I stayed up all night and prayed. During the devotion, my mentor raised a prayer on her behalf. We asked God to intervene and make this easy for her.

I went alone to court that morning. My heart cried when Adunni was brought into the court room, handcuffed.

Memories of the night in the cell room returned. Her emotional abuse by her husband, the mockeries by her mother-in-law when she couldn’t conceive, her conversion.

Our eyes met as she was led to the dock. She smiled and there were tears in her eyes. My eyes were filled with tears too.

Lord, please show her mercy.