Diary of a pastor’s son - S01 E20

Story 1 year ago

Diary of a pastor’s son - S01 E20

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 20

Femi’s POV

I was in the bathroom with my whole body shivering, while my father’s voice pierced through the whole house in shock at what I didn’t know who told him. Who is he talking to? I had pondered inside the bathroom. Then, my mom also came out of her room.

“Kilode? What is it? What did Femi do?” she asked in one breath?

“So this boy has chosen to disgrace me and has sworn to drag this family’s name in the mud,” I heard my father say. He sounded bitter and upset.

“What has he done this time around?” Mom queried.

It was then I felt it must be about Biola’s pregnancy. Could it be she had issues with the abortion or what? I kept pondering about what my father was informed about over the phone.

I haven’t spoken with Biola ever since Pastor Ben told me to make sure she didn’t abort the baby.

Truth is, I actually didn’t want her to keep the baby. Yes, I wanted Biola to get rid of the baby because I knew the outcome would have so many consequences including my chances of going to University. Having a baby as a teenager was not part of my Naijatea stories plans. So I refused to call Biola after the youth pastor told me to make sure she keeps the baby. I planned to call her after a few days and hopefully by then she must have gotten the pills like she talked about the other time. And by the time I meet Pastor Ben again, I’d tell him she already did the abortion before I was able to reach her. That was how I had it in my head.

“Can you imagine? Your sister just called me…”

“Imagine what? What did Bose say?” asked my mother

“Femi impregnated Biola and he has been living in this house with us,” my father finally broke the ugly news.

I became so cold like a fish. I couldn’t make a move while I stood there inside the bathroom. My heart raced faster than Usain Bolt. I had several thoughts about my father’s next line of action and my whole being was in chaos.

“Ahhh! This boy has disgraced me,” stuttered my mom. I literally felt her words so deep inside of me, and I felt I had truly disappointed them.

“Where is that boy?” my father thundered. And I could hear him push the dining table.

“Femiii..,” my mom called, stressing the last syllable. I could sense they were looking for me as I overhead their footsteps from one end to another.

“Agatha, where is Femi?” I heard my father ask.

“I think he is in the bathroom,” she announced. And I could feel my heart thudding against the ribs. As soon as I overheard footsteps approaching the bathroom, I quickly bolted the door and wore my shorts.

“Femi, will you open the door and get out of that place,” he yelled, causing my heart to pound faster. Yet I remained calm and quiet not until he started to bang on the door.

“Femi, If I break this door, you won’t like yourself,” my father added aloud.

“Femi, won’t you open the door?” came my mother’s voice.

“Please, daddy, I’m sorry. I’m a changed person now.” I finally broke the awkward silence. Tears trickled down my cheeks. I was sober and scared of the unknown. I knew what he could do to me if I eventually open the door.

“Femi, if I break this door, you’ll get it rough with me,” my father said and banged on the door.

I kept contemplating whether to open or let him do his worst. I felt breaking the door as he said was kind of a threat and a way of tricking me to unlock the old wooden door. Not until I felt the weight of the door on my forehead. Yes, he eventually pushed the door so hard with his weight and it got loosened from the bolt. I couldn’t help but yell in pain as soon as the door hit my head. This was happening around 11 pm. The compound was as quiet as a graveyard. Only the sound of a generator from the next building was the only sound that filled the air.

My father came in and pounced on me. He slapped me hard on the face. He hit my head and every other place he could get hold of. I tried to run but he caught me in my shorts and continued hitting me so hard. “Please, daddy please…” I cried. Yet he was never moved by my tears and pleading. Despite my mom’s intervention and pleads, he went on till he saw blood gushing out from my mouth and face.

“This is just the beginning,” he said, then walked out of the bathroom.

“And this is the person you want us to send to the University? Eh? So he would go there and become the second version of Solomon in the Bible,” he turned to my mom who stood there motionless.

“Get ready to start working because you’ll soon father a child,” he said. He then reached his room, went in, and slammed the door.

I stood outside the bathroom, tears, and blood rolling down my cheeks at the same time. Subconsciously, I tasted my blood, and my tears tasted salty.

“Femi, how could you?” my mom queried

Silence.

“So this is all about you staying back in Ibadan?” she yelled.

“Yes. That’s it! He wanted to stay there and continue his atrocities with Biola.” My father screamed from his room.

I knew Agatha and Shola were awake but they couldn’t come out of the room. My mom went on to rebuke and say all manner of things that made me feel worthless. She added jocularly that she would have to cut my pen!s off.

Biola’s POV

Morning sickness came pretty quickly, and I began to feel tired all the time. I felt so bad knowing I was always sleeping all day. It was Aramide who did almost all the house chores. It was my first time being pregnant and it knocked me down beyond my expectation.

Aunty Bose wouldn’t like to see me idling around, doing absolutely nothing. I knew she badly wished they call off the strike, so I could just go back to school and leave her husband’s house. It was through her, that my brother, Gbenga found out I was pregnant.

So, one Sunday evening, Gbenga visited us. He was so disappointed in me. He literally said I was stupid for spreading my legs for Femi. At a time, I didn’t know if he actually came to insult me or to see how I was coping with my first pregnancy.

Gbenga went ahead to remind me we had no mother again and my father in the village would barely show any form of financial support if at all I have any hope of getting support from him. Actually, we came from a polygamous family and my late mother happened to be the first wife. My stepmother and his children lived with my father in the village. My brother went on to say he regretted ever allowing Femi and I in his apartment the day we came to see him. He presumed that was the day Femi must have slept with me. I barely said anything to him and he was so pissed off at what I had put myself into. Gbenga was one of my brothers who had been supportive financially in my school and then he felt disgruntled.

****

The next three we were as rough, with my Aunty Bose rarely talking to me, despite her extroverted, charismatic nature. I began to feel really odd. I would burst out in tears at random times. I was depressed for being such a disappointment to everyone around me. Yet I hung on, determined to carry my cross.

One Monday morning, I was in the toilet when I discovered tiny spots of blood on my toilet paper. I didn’t know what it means and I didn’t know what to do. I’ve seen enough movies to understand the seriousness of bleeding while pregnant.

I rushed out and met Aunty Bose in the kitchen. I told her and waited to hear her say some nasty words, or perhaps, scold me but she didn’t. I could only see the shock on her face. I’ll never forget her face that very day. She told me to get dressed and we quickly went to the hospital.

To be continued…