Fearsome Melodrama (II)

FEARSOME MELODRAMA (II)

    “Young man,” Mr. Ama Madu interrupted. “What a hell are you talking about?” He said as he approached where the intruder stood.

    The crowd was still in silence awe. Everyone seemed like an electrocuted being.

    “Maybe you should ask your wife,” Mr. Kedu unfriendly suggested. “I think that would save us from a big stress.” He added, looking firmly at the face of Mr. Ama who stood about a metre away from him.

    “My wife…?” Mr. Ama said, shocked.

    “You heard me clearly.” responded Mr. Kedu.

      Mr. Ama looked at Chizoba who appeared so devastated as she held her son, Chibuzo firmly. She attempted to face elsewhere the moment her hubby turned back to take a look at her but she was emotionally trapped, thus she stood still, fearfully facing Mr. Ama. “What a hell is going on here?” he asked her. “Can someone talk to me?” He reiterated, looking around.

     Chizoba left the arena immediately and ran into her matrimonial home, carrying her cute baby in her hands.

     Mr. Kedu smiled at her reaction. “I guess she cannot withstand the shame.” He thought aloud.

     “This drama is turning into something else.” Mr. Ama observed in a loud tone, also left the crowded arena to meet with his departed wife.

     Okechukwu who had been watching dumbfoundedly, followed his father into the house.

     At this point, everyone in the gathering was left with no option than to take their leave for their respective residents. Mr. Kedu joined them, though followed a different path in order not to mix with any member of the exited crowd.

     While the guests were leaving in various groups, they were filled with several thoughts, insinuations, mixed feelings, and what have you. They couldn’t believe such a thing transpired at an occasion they were specially invited to attend.

     Notable personalities in their midst felt so disappointed and depressed; according to them, Mr. Ama had been designed with an uncalled indelible mark that could usher any man into his unsolicited early grave. They weren’t really sad that they were embarrassed; rather, they felt for their highly respected fellow kinsman (Mr. Ama) who just witnessed an unspeakable ordeal.

     The moment Mr. Ama met Chizoba in their matrimonial room, she began to cry profoundly. By this time, Chibuzo was lying in his cot. “Tell me it’s not true?” He told her.

     Okechukwu arrived at the room in a jiffy.

     “It is true…” She hinted aloud while seated on the bed, choked by sobs.

      Mr. Ama alongside his son was so shocked over the hint.

     “What is true?” Mr. Ama shouted.

     “The child is his,” she eventually confessed. “I am so sorry…”

       Mr. Ama was speechless; Okechukwu astonishly left the room for his. “So you have been deceiving me all these while?” Mr. Ama managed to utter while standing closely to where she was seated.

    “Honey, is not what you think.” She replied.

    “Honey what?” Mr. Ama enquired. “Who’s your honey?” He reiterated, paused. “Before I turn my back, you have packed out of this house.” He urged furiously, dashed out of the room for an unknown destination.

    She fell on the floor, continued sobbing.

    When Mr. Ama returned to the room from the few seconds self-exile, she was still crying helplessly on the floor. “So you are still here, woman?” He said, went for her luggage coupled with her other belongings and threw it outside the house.

     She went to grab him while he was carrying out the mission but he forcefully pushed her away; that was when the reality dawned on her, thus she needed not to be told by a seer that that was fire on the mountain. In view of this, she sluggishly left the house with her baby as well as luggage.

    Mr. Ama Madu who was at this point seated on the bed felt like strangulating himself, couldn’t believe it was a reality. Within a few minutes, Okechukwu joined him in the room, sat closely with him and began to console him while crossed his right arm on his (Mr. Ama’s) waist. “It’s okay, dad.” he enjoined. “All will be fine, okay?”

     Mr. Ama looked at him, felt relieved and nodded. “Thank you, son.” He appreciated hesitantly.

     At least, with Okechukwu he still had something to console himself with. Hence, he thought it wise to summon courage and forge ahead with his miserable life, though the injury incurred some minutes back at that event was something that might not heal throughout his lifetime.

     When Chizoba got to her paternal home with the baby, her father Mr. Amadi whom was also present at the shameful ceremony alongside his wife felt like disowning her. “You have brought an untold disgrace to this family.” He ranted as she walked into the compound in a tattered mood. “You have turned yourself into a forbidden child.” The old man added fiercely.      

     His wife Mrs. Amadi felt for Chizoba. “Is okay naow…” She urged her husband. “After all, she’s still your daughter.”

     “My daughter?” Mr. Amadi said, marveled. “Is that all you could say?” He added, paused. “Is this a conspiracy or what?”

     “Conspiracy..?” His wife quarreled. “How do you mean?”

     “How can you call such a girl my daughter?” quoth Mr. Amadi. “Weren’t you at that occasion, or you didn’t see what happened?”

      Mrs. Amadi sighed heavily, turned to Chizoba. “My dear, come.” She urged her.

     Chizoba walked to her leaving her luggage behind, still carrying her baby.

     Her mother cuddled her and took the baby from her.

     Mr. Amadi angrily left them at the balcony and walked to his room.

     Since she was the one who encouraged her to get married to Mr. Ama despite the fact that she was pregnant for Mr. Kedu, she (Mrs. Amadi) was left with no choice than to embrace her daughter whose plan had crashed unexpectedly.

     The following day, Mr. Kedu came to meet with Chizoba to reconcile with her. He was still very much interested to walk her down the aisle regardless of the inconvenience she had cost him. And he was at that moment ready to settle down having become a bit financially stable unlike when she left him for another man.

    When he arrived at her place, she couldn’t welcome him; she was of the view that he had already cost her enormous pains, thus she wasn’t willing to incur more. But Mr. Kedu let her see reason he took that very step; according to him, that was the only way he could reclaim her.

     After every altercation, having understood that she really erred coupled with her mother’s advice, she agreed to marry the rejected Mr. Kedu after tendering unalloyed apology to him for her stupidity.

    Three months on, they tied the ostensibly inevitable nuptial knots. Indeed, the fearsome melodrama had turned into a glorious moment, though Mr. Ama Madu was still wallowing in an untold grief.

      Fascinatingly, that Chizoba’s childhood pal in the person of Miss Dalu who disclosed to Mr. Kedu that she (Chizoba) was pregnant for him, happened to be the chief bridesmaid of the wedding ceremony.

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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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