Diary of a pastor’s son - S01 E22

Story 1 year ago

Diary of a pastor’s son - S01 E22

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 22

Biola’s POV

I was finally leaving Ibadan for Lagos and I could tell there was some sort of relief it gave Aunty Bose. Before then, I went to see my brother, Gbenga.

Despite the fact he was disappointed in me, he still encouraged me and gave me some money.

Did I forget to tell you how much Femi’s mother later sent to me? Forgive me. She sent a whooping 40k naira to my account after she talked to me that day. I couldn’t hold my joy. I called her and thanked her for being so kind and caring. With her support, I was able to get some stuff from the market. I’m sure you’d be wondering if my brother’s wife (Bose) gave me any money? Well, I wouldn’t like to label her a bad person. She gave me foodstuffs and I could tell that was what she could afford. Besides, she had her son and Aramide to take care of. It was obvious she had many mouths to feed from the little earned.

***

Fast forwarding, I got back to Lagos Sunday evening. The school environment as usual bubbled with students here and there. Loud music from unseen stereos and stuff like that. Of course, my outlook already changed. Though my belly wasn’t that big and noticeable, someone could still tell I was pregnant by merely looking at my face.

One of my fear was being judged by lecturers, my coursemates, and friends. And the last thing I wanted was for it to affect any of my classes—and I didn’t want to have any kind of judgment on me. Truth is, I wasn’t the kind of girl everyone expected to get pregnant in school. I wasn’t religious either, but I had this kind of ‘ambitious girl attitude’ on campus. I’m sure you know what I mean. Yes, the type that was always attending seminars and all kinds of self-development programs.

That’s by the way. Well, I’m not going to go into details to bore you with every single thing that happened when I got back to school. I’m only going to share a few vital ones.

Back to classes, I told a few good friends. I trusted them and knew they would support me like Femi’s mother. I was wrong. Soon after telling my ‘friends,” I found out that some of them suddenly stopped speaking to me. I bet they weren’t able to deal with the fact they knew I was pregnant. And I was chastised for being immoral for having premarital sex and for deciding to carry my pregnancy.

Well, somehow, I felt lonely. It was a very challenging time. A lot of people that you thought would be there for you, won’t. It was surprising because I had a few friends, but there seem to be nobody I could relate to except Seyi and Kemisola. Both were the ones who didn’t disappear completely. Then I remembered a quote I once heard on a radio station, and it went thus, “Before sex, you help each other to get naked and after sex, you only dress yourself. Moral of the story: In life, no one helps you when you’re ‘f*cked’.

I was emotionally drained. I knew I needed a shoulder to lean on but there was no one around me. I attended lectures about two-three times a week. My only hope was that I’d be free after exams.

Femi’s POV

Biola went back to school and yet she didn’t want to talk to me nor changed her mind and answer my calls. It bothered me why she was keeping malice with me. I soon realized she was always talking to my mom over the phone. So one day I tried calling her with my mom’s phone. She picked up as soon it rang. Biola went mute the moment she heard my voice.

“Biola, what have I done to deserve this long silence from you? Did I offend you in any way?”

Silence.

“You keep ignoring my calls and texts,” I continued.

“Femi what else do you want us to chat about? I’m not in the mood for all these conversations. My mental health is paramount to me, please,” she said and paused.

“Yes, I know we don’t have much to talk about. Hearing your voice is enough. I still care. I really do. It’s only my father who has been taking the whole thing too far,” I added.

“Thank God you know he’s been overdoing things. Your father literally talked to me like I was a prostitute. There was nothing he didn’t say to me,” she lamented.

“I thought as much. And I’m sure that’s the reason you have been avoiding me. You wouldn’t believe what I went through in his hands.”

“Femi, whatever. I’ll be fine,” she hanged up speedily.

***

Well, I reserved my hatred for my father. For the being whose blood flows in my veins. He thought himself above mistakes and seemed like he was the most righteous man on earth. Whenever I talk to my father, I end up frustrated. My father and I began to have issues in our father/ son relationship. He messes with my mental health whenever I talked to him.

I honestly didn’t know how to stop getting so worked up over it. It’s usually him telling me something, giving me advice or telling me his opinion on something that I’m doing, or telling me something about what someone else has done and just trying to teach me something. I usually describe it as a lecture. One that I didn’t sign up for.

There were times that I decide to listen, and there were times that I get so worked up. When I told him about how I get frustrated when I talk to him, one of the things he said was along the lines of, “you don’t need to get so frustrated.”

I know I don’t like my dad because I get so prickly over anything he says plus I kind of try to avoid him, limit any time we can talk to each other which can make me feel kind of guilty because I know he means well. But, this doesn’t stop the fact that he gets on my nerves and how I don’t like talking to him.

It’s great when I don’t care and I’m not listening and just want him to finish talking. But, I don’t think I’m always going to be like that. Randomly, I’d decide that I want to actually hear him out but I get so worked up afterward that it’s difficult for me to concentrate on other things. That’s annoying! So I had to complain to my mom so she could talk to him but then my mom called me to a corner and she said: “You might feel he doesn’t understand you, isn’t supportive of you, or doesn’t give you the independence you need. The important thing to remember is that your dad is probably trying to do these things but in a different way from what you want. Have you tried to tell him how you feel? Imagine in your head the way you would like him to talk to you and then tell him your suggestions. If your dad does mean well, as you say, he will listen to you.” She said and paused. After some seconds, she continued:

“We can love people and be annoyed or dislike them at the same time. When you find these negative feelings to take over, remind yourself of positive memories with your dad and your relationship with him. This could be as small as him driving you somewhere or saying goodnight before you go to bed. Think of something you would like to do with your dad and let him know. Spending positive time with him may also help decrease your feelings of dislike.

When we are angry or frustrated, we often react rather than respond. This means we do and say things without thinking and often end up regretting them or feeling guilty. When we respond, we have had time to not let our emotions take over. It might help to try to respond to your dad rather than react. So when you are recognizing yourself getting worked up, stop, take a deep breath and either tell yourself some calming words in your head or take some time out by yourself.” Mom finally stopped.

That was the first time I watched my mom speak so intelligently and I was wowed. Through the help of my mom, we were able to convince my father to allow me further my studies. He accepted but he gave us a condition that he wasn’t going to spend on my unborn baby. He said Biola and I would find a way to carter for the baby. He would only fund my school and nothing more.

And that was how my dream of going to University was revived. In the next episode, I’m going to tell you what my life at the university was like. Till then.