Fearsome Melodrama

FEARSOME MELODRAMA

    “Okey,” Mr. Madu called.

    “Yes dad.”

    “I called you here to discuss something very important with you.”

     The brilliant 16-year-old Okechukwu who was fondly called ‘Okey’ by his teeming friends and relatives was the only child of his late mother who died two years back at 44 after a brief illness. Since his mother’s eternal demise, his 51-year-old father, Mr. Ama Madu had vowed not to tie the knot with another woman, but the unending persuasions he had so far received from his kinsmen including his aged parents had made him to think otherwise, thus had decided to add a lady to the house’s population.

     This was what necessitated the above meeting which was taking place right in their sitting room at about 5:20pm the moment Okechukwu who was preparing for his forthcoming Senior School Certificate Examinations (SSCE) arrived home. He had however earlier informed him when he was leaving for his school in the morning that he had a very crucial issue to iron out with him when he returned. Okechukwu, having hurriedly taken his lunch as well as undressed himself as soon as he arrived as instructed by his beloved father, joined him in the parlour where he was patiently awaiting him. Both were seated closely in the same cushion.

    Okechukwu listened attentively, stayed calm.

    “It’s true that the vacuum your late mum created in our hearts cannot be filled so easily.” Mr. Ama Madu rode on.

    Okechukwu looked at him sorrowfully.

    “But, we can’t continue to remain in a mourning mood.” quoth Mr. Madu. “Therefore, we must move on.”

    Okechukwu took a sigh of relieve, adjusted himself a bit.

    “Okey my son,” he called. “You need a woman that would take good care of you as a mother.”

     The listener remained calm.

     “You can’t continue like this,” he said, looking into his eyes. “Neither me.” He added.

     Okechukwu bent his head, became sober.

     “The burden is becoming so unbearable,” Mr. Madu confessed. “Oh, Adaku!” He bitterly recalled his late wife, shook his head.

     “Dad, it’s okay.” Okechukwu enjoined. “God knows everything.”

      Mr. Madu glanced at him, was deeply encouraged over his courage.

     “I think you are right,” Okechukwu proceeded. “We can’t continue to mourn.”

     “I am impressed you are sounding this way.” Mr. Madu complimented. “Well, it’s time to tell you why I called you here.”

     Okechukwu became more attentive.

     “I want to remarry,” he informed hesitantly. “I want to marry another wife.”

      The chap was moody, though wasn’t shocked by the notice.

     “I want to bring in a woman that would take care of us,” he landed. “Particularly, you.” He said, gesticulating.

     “There’s no problem, dad.” concurred Okechukwu in a jiffy. “I know you have always wanted the best for me.”

     Mr Madu was calm, overwhelmingly amazed to hear his son speak courageously and wisely.

     “So, when am I meeting her?”

      Mr. Madu smiled. “You will meet her soon, okay?”

      Okechukwu nodded. “Alright dad,” he said. “I can’t wait to meet with her.”

     The discussion ended at exactly 6:15pm prior to the discussants’ departure for their respective bedrooms.

     The following three days being Saturday February 9, 2008, the awaited bride, Chizoba by name, arrived. She was in her mid-thirties, looked virtuous and meek. Okechukwu was conspicuously pleased by what he saw in her externally, and was eagerly looking forward to seeing a woman that had a pure heart just like that of his late mother, Adaku.

     The first few months of Chizoba’s stay at her matrimonial home were splendid. Owing to this attribute, rather than seeing her as a step-mother, Okechukwu was of the view that his late mother’s spirit had eventually returned; she was, to say the least, the deceased’s replica, thus he vowed to remain loyal to her regardless of the circumstance. By this time, she was already five-month pregnant; apparently she conceived the moment she packed into the home.

     There was nothing Okechukwu asked or sought for that wasn’t given to him on a platter of gold, that, at a point he became so astonished over the innumerable kind gesture. When he was sitting for his SSCE, Chizoba who was a professional fashion designer ensured that he made the best out of it by providing him with all he needed, though with the assistance of her husband. In fact, she could best be described as an ‘angel’ whenever her name was being discussed in the family. As a result of this, Mr. Madu kept appreciating God that he never made a mistake bringing in another woman in respect to his first wife’s exit. Notwithstanding, only God knows what one’s fate would entail in the future.

     Four months later, the heavily pregnant Mrs. Chizoba Madu successfully put to bed a bouncing baby boy. It was ostensibly a moment of divine mercy. Above every remarkable thing attached to the euphoric moment, at least Okechukwu could then boast of a more intimate everlasting companion. At this point, Mr. Madu’s joy knew no bounds, hence he organized a revelry. The newborn baby was therein named Chibuzo.

     “You have made me more complete now.” Mr. Ama Madu elatedly told his wife amidst the gathering while standing.

     The revelry comprised every dignitary the community was proud of. The host, Mr. Madu was a notable man in the locality, thus he was able to reach out to ‘all-that-matters’ in the ancient clan.

     Chizoba smiled as she cuddled the little Chibuzo who was well wrapped in a charming multi-coloured wrapper.

     “Honestly,” the celebrant continued, stood still. “I don’t know how best to appreciate you.”

     The crowd instantly gave a very cheerful look at the outpouring compliments.

     “Since you came into this family,” Mr. Madu said. “A lot has really changed…”

     Before he could finish the last statement, one able-bodied man who seemed to be in his late thirties, though looked poor, just jumped out from the gathering. “Hold it there!” he urged Mr. Madu with alacrity.

     The crowd including the celebrant marveled at the scene. On her part, going by Chizoba’s body language, it appeared she knew the man who seemed totally strange to the entire members of the gathering; she instantly stood up from her seat, looked apprehensive.

     “For your information,” the intruder told Mr. Madu amid the crowd. “This baby is mine.” He informed, pointing one of his right fingers at Chibuzo who was tightly held by his pale-looking mother.

     The fearsome melodrama was occasioned by the fact that the seemingly strange being named Kedu who hailed from a neighbouring clan was the person who truly impregnated Chizoba, thus was the biological father of Chibuzo. They were dating prior to her abrupt marriage to Mr. Madu. She was even pregnant of the baby before she tied the knot, unknowingly to the groom (Mr. Madu) because the pregnancy wasn’t yet obvious.

     Mr. Kedu couldn’t settle down with her due to his financial incapacity, and she wasn’t willing to wait either. When Mr. Madu sought her hand in marriage, having disclosed the proposal to the former, he pleaded with her to wait for him but she refused. Apart from her personal wish, her mother whom was aware of every bit of the situation persuaded her to abandon the former for the latter.

     Although Kedu wasn’t aware of the pregnancy, Chizoba’s trusted ally - Dalu whom was the only person she confided in aside her mother regarding the origin of the pregnancy, disclosed it to him (Kedu) without Chizoba’s knowledge; hence, Mr. Kedu waited till she delivered the baby before he could claim it.

    What happened thereafter is a story for another day. But, if you were in Mr. Madu’s shoes, what would you do at the gathering? Think about it! 

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Despair Not

DESPAIR NOT

    “Hello dad!” Dapo exclaimed the moment he picked the phone call as he walked towards the major road.

    “How are you, Dapo?” the 53-year-old Mr. Kunle enquired elatedly.

     Dapo, a 200 Level student of Creative Arts in the famous Lagos State University (LASU), Iyana-Oba, Lagos State, Nigeria was the only child of Mr. and Mrs. Kunle Ojo. Since 20 years back he was begotten by the lovely couple barely eleven months after their marriage, another baby had refused to form in his mother’s womb. Rather than remain in perpetual agony, the said couple had chosen to be contented with what they were blessed with; and as God would have it, Dapo was exemplarily brilliant, thus they felt complete.

     As an undergraduate, the chap could boast of anything he needed right from the first day he found himself on the campus. Among all, no day that passed that his dad, Kunle didn’t call him on phone to ascertain how he was faring. This time, he received one of his numerous calls while he was leaving his school lodge for the expressway situated very close to the lodge in question in the company of two of his neighbours, Wale and Kosara who were as well students of the university. They were headed for a viewing centre to watch an incoming match between Chelsea FC and FC Barcelona for an ongoing European Championship tournament.

     “I am fine, sir.” responded Dapo amid his friends.

     “I am sure you are not lacking anything?” Mr. Ojo said.

     “No sir.”

     “Okay.” He said, paused. “When are your semester exams coming up?”

     “In three weeks time.”

     “I am sure you are reading your books as usual?”

     “Trust me, dad.” He replied, transferred the cell phone to his left hand.

     “That’s my boy!”

     “So dad, how’s mum?” He enquired as they got at the expressway, which they were meant to cross before they could get to their destination.

     This time, he was slightly walking ahead of his companions, Kosara and Wale.

    “Your mum is fine,” Mr. Kunle replied. “She is doing greatly.”

    “Oh, so glad to hear that,” Dapo responded, couldn’t notice a Busscar bus that just overtook another, thereby exceeding its track and was headed toward where he stood ahead of his friends. “My regards to her.” He told his father.

     “Dapoooo…!” Wale and Kosara shouted at the top of their voices as they observed the anomaly. The exclamation came concurrently with his last statement on phone ‘my regards to her’.

     Before Dapo could realize his fate, the bus that was obviously moving with a very high speed hit him roughly and kept moving. Dapo rolled severally on the outskirt of the expressway and gave up the ghost instantly.

     “Dapo! Dapo!!” Mr. Kunle called having sensed the anomaly to no avail.

     Dapo’s handset was lying helplessly on the ground.

     Kosara and Wale rushed to the spot where his body was lying lifelessly. On observing that he was no more, they cried and cried profoundly amidst a crowd, but there was absolutely nothing anyone could do.

     Kosara hurriedly walked to the phone, grabbed it while covered with tears and managed to place it on his left ear. “Dapo is dea…d.” He notified Mr. Kunle who had shouted his son’s name for the umpteenth time in a jittery mood.  

    “Dapo is what?” He verified apprehensively.

    “He is dead…!”

    “What…?” Mr. Ojo who was also a Lagos state resident shouted loudly, dropped the call and quickly headed for LASU to confirm the genuineness of the information.

    Dapo was therein rushed to a nearby hospital where he was actually confirmed dead. According to the physician, he died as a result of haemorrhage.

     When Mr. Ojo arrived at the hospital, he couldn’t believe his eyes. It was like a mere dream. In a nutshell, at that point, a madman was far better than him mentally.

     When the news got to his wife, she fainted and remained in the mood for 72-hours before she came back to life; the 52-year-old Mrs. Timi Ojo felt like one in hell. It was obvious that if given the chance, she could commit suicide because therein she saw life as meaningless. To her, death wasn’t just heartless but evil.

     The big question was: where were they to start from? The only child they had been jealously nurturing for twenty years had left them unannounced without even an indirect notice. The sobs were unquantifiable, to say the least; the shock, immeasurable; and the pains, so extreme. Whom were they to run to, for succour? Who could unravel the mystery?

     The endless condolences they were receiving were causing more harm than good. Conspicuously, what they needed was mainly remedy instead of ‘please take heart’ which was pouring in like rainfall. The ordeal was so unbearable that even a fly that came to sympathize with them was seen as an enemy. Apparently, the poor couple preferred to be left alone.

     The pain was indeed unbearable. A couple that was trying to be contented with only one child was abruptly told that it didn’t even deserve one. The experience was rather imaginable. Even if it was a mere dream, such nightmare would remain indelible in their minds.

     Though the mourning period seemed unending, six months after, they thought it wise to console themselves having taken solace in their creator. Thus, life continued although the injury incurred failed to heal. Their greatest motivator was the undiluted love they shared as a couple ever since they tied the connubial knots.

     As the Holy book would always conscientize us to despair not, seven months down the line, the 52-year-old Mrs. Timi conceived again after almost twenty-one years of her last pregnancy. She alongside her loving and faithful husband couldn’t believe what the family was witnessing, likewise their respective parents who got the news in a jiffy. The rare miracle, which was like the case of Sarah in the Bible, wasn’t in any way seen coming.

     When the pregnancy became obvious, people around were mistaking it for a mere big tummy owing to scepticism. To them, she couldn’t in any way conceive at that point after countless years of wait, unknowingly to them that God has His own way of doing things in such a manner that it couldn’t be comprehended by anyone. As weeks unfold, she became heavily pregnant to the utmost amazement of the teeming skeptics.

      Nine months after, she successfully gave birth to triplets – two boys and a girl. The glorious moment threw everyone into a celebration mood.

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Smart Cheat

SMART CHEAT

    “Seun, my son.” Mrs. Funmi called.

    “Yes mum.”

    “I must say,” quoth the 52-year-old Funmi. “I am really proud of you.”

    “Thank you, mum.” appreciated the 18-year-old Seun.

     Seun was the only child of Mrs. Funmi Akande who was a widow. Since her beloved husband kicked the bucket untimely nine years back, she had vowed not to remarry; hence, she had been trying unrelentingly to make it up to her only pride (Seun) who she regarded as her pet, with the help of the trading business she was into. Seun wasn’t just loved but adored by his industrious mother who could best be described as a virtuous woman, owing to his ostensibly brilliant idiosyncrasy; he was no doubt trying his very best to do well academically, particularly in order to please his poor mother who he saw as his messiah.

     Having concluded his secondary education previous year in a grand style and thereafter successfully secured admission in the university of his choice to study his dream discipline, Business Management, precisely few weeks back, in the aforementioned gathering which was taking place in their parlour at about 7:35am, his loving and lovely mother – ‘Madam Funmi’ as she was fondly called by her friends and foes was painstakingly taking her precious time to administer the required and consequential counsel.

     “I am glad you have been coming out with flying colours in all your exams.” Funmi rode on as she was seated in the parlour.

     Seun who was seated directly adjacent to her, smiled. “Thank you, mum.” He said.

     “Even in the grave,” quoth Funmi. “Your father would be very proud of you.” She enthused, paused. “He wanted the best for you.”

      Seun was calm.

     “I pray you will continue like this throughout your university period.”

      Seun adjusted himself, remained calm and speechless.

    “Please my son,” she proceeded. “Always try your best to make me a happy woman.” She asked, paused. “You know you are the only one I have.” She added.

    “I want to assure you one thing, mum…” Seun interrupted.

     Funmi was quiet and attentive.

    “I will never disappoint you,” he landed. “I mean, always.”

    “That’s my boy.” Mrs. Funmi elatedly applauded. “Please, come and sit here.” She urged, tapping the space on her seat.

     Seun left his seat for hers immediately, leaned on it and folded his hands.

     Funmi looked into his eyes. “My son,” she called passionately. “As you are about leaving for your school…”

     Seun appeared more attentive.

    “When you get there,” she continued. “Never forget where you are coming from.” She enjoined soberly, wept.

     “Mum, why are you crying?”

      She quickly wiped her tears, gasped for air. “Never mind.” She trivialized.

     “Mummy is okay,” he urged. “Don’t worry, everything would be alright, okay?”

     Funmi nodded emphatically. “Thank you.” She told him.

     The discussion lasted till 8.40am before they left for their respective daily household chores.

     The following week, Seun departed home for the university where he got admission. His first day on the campus wasn’t just indelible but a moment he wished he would live to celebrate all through his lifetime.

     As a fresher, he had on him all the needed materials cum cash that would cater for him throughout the first semester. This was due to the fact that his mother never wanted him to be distracted or lack anything whatsoever because the institution in question was a no-nonsense one that believed in excellence through hard work; to say the least, any student caught indulging in any form of examination malpractice outrightly faced expulsion and such legacy spoke volumes whenever the university name was mentioned anywhere across the country.

     To Seun’s mum, her only child was equal to the task when it called for hard work or devotion, thus she was strongly of the view that the chap would leave no stone unturned towards ensuring that he came out with flying colours after each semester exams. As a result of this notion, she was so determined to shower him with every needed love regarding finances like never before, in order to spur him to put in his very best in all matters concerning his academics which were his primary aim of going to the university. On his part, toward making it up to his mother, Seun was equally prepared to metamorphose into a better being.

     Ceteris paribus, three months down the line, the university exams, as usual, were around the corner. To this end, all the undergraduates including Seun, were variously doing the required finishing touching to ensure that the awaited test of ability became an absolute success. Seun was really nervous as regards the fast approaching exams that were expected to commence the following week; he needn’t any iota of excuse that would make his person not to boast of a distinction in virtually all his courses that were eleven in number if the results eventually came out, just as the case was during his primary as well as secondary school time.      

     There and behold, the long awaited D-day being the next Monday, finally arrived, to the glory of God. On that fateful day, Seun was meant to sit for ‘Introduction to Commerce’ which was a general subject for every first year (100 Level) undergraduate of the Management faculty.

     “Hey boy,” one of the exam invigilators called Seun as he sighted him in the distance displaying some antics amid the exam. “Stand up!” He urged him.

     “You mean me?” Seun enquired while still seated, his exam papers facing him.

     “Yes you,” the invigilator, Mr. Funsho clarified, gesticulating. “Stand up!!” He reiterated.

     The exam hall, which comprised about thirty candidates, was marveled over the invigilator’s mode of approach. As freshers, coupled with the fact that they had been duly briefed in regard to the university’s intolerant modus operandi, each of them became jitterier.

     Seun hesitantly stood up as instructed.

      Mr. Funsho majestically walked closer to him. “What’s your name?” he inquired, glanced at his answer script.

     “Akande Seun.”

      Mr. Funsho nodded unfriendly. “What were you doing awhile ago?” He said.

     “Doing what, sir?” Seun confronted. “I was writing my exam, of course.” He added with alacrity.

     “So you weren’t guilty, right?” Mr. Funsho insisted.

     “Guilty of what, sir?”

     “I can see you are stubborn.” Mr. Funsho frayed, quickly dipped his right hand into one of Seun’s trousers’ pockets and brought out a manuscript.

     He had earlier caught Seun making use of the manuscript but the culprit was claiming to be clever.

     Everyone stared at the scene in utmost awe.

     Seun who stood still was totally embarrassed, didn’t know what next to do.

     The fact was that, Seun was so talented when it called for cheating in the exam hall right from his childhood; that was how he scaled through all his examinations in the past without his mother’s knowledge. Mrs. Funmi presumed she had a brilliant child unknowingly to her that the chap in question was nothing but a smart cheat. Now, luck had run out of him.

     Therein, Seun Akande was dragged out of the exam hall by Mr. Funsho alongside his co-invigilators, and was taken to the university’s Senate building. Consequently, few days on, he was expelled from the university.

     His poor mother, Mrs. Funmi Akande instantly slumped and passed away on hearing the sad news.

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