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Mondays are supposed to be for my “Tales From My Grandmother Series” but today makes it exactly ten years since my dad passed away. I’ve never written about it and I thought doing so now would only be appropriate.

I had just resumed my first year at the junior secondary school. I was full of life and it seemed like anything I desired was possible. The sky seemed to be the starting point. I had made new friends and I was gradually forgetting about my friends from primary school.

I left for school on the third day of resumption, bursting with energy and ready to face a new day. I was having a free period and I was chatting with my newly acquired friends and none of us heard my name being called over the public announcer. A teacher had to come into my class and call me out.

I was surprised to see my aunt and grandmother. I had lived with my grandmother all my life and I only visited my parents during the weekends or holidays. She was all smiles and I did not even suspect that anything was wrong. Grandma told me that my aunt was to take me to a place and I followed her, hoping we were headed towards some place of interest.

I was taken aback, when I eventually discovered that my dad had died. I remember losing my balance and the shock was unimaginable. I cried, wailed and expressed my grief in the way my young mind could. One thing for sure is that I was completely torn apart.

At my dad’s burial, there were several uncles and aunts who made various promises. They promised to do more than my father had ever done. They promised heaven and earth and told me that I could be rest assured that I would be adequately catered for. That was the last time I ever saw or heard from some of them.

None of the promises was fulfilled and my mum was left to cater for my sister and I, as a single mother. It was not easy but my mum braved all odds and has produced two amazing individuals, if I do say so myself.

It was not always easy growing up without a father. There have been times when I badly needed fatherly advice about certain matters but could not find anyone to talk to. My mother tries her best to be of help but she does not always see everything from a male’s perspective.

There have been times when I require funds but find it difficult to ask my mum for it. “Don’t kill the poor woman” is what I tell myself. There are times when I think that things would have been a lot easier for me, if I had a father but what does not kill a man only makes him stronger.

Thank you for sparing your time to go through this. I remain your humble little boy.

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I am @Illuminatus, I am a Nigerian and I am neither a terrorist, a scammer nor a spammer.

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