Back to Dust

I always thought Daddy was immortal. He seemed as though he held death in his hands. I thought he would live forever, until he fell really ill and had to stay in the hospital for some months. Just last week, Mummy drove us to the hospital after school to say our last goodbyes. Nobody really explained what happened to me and sister Morenike but I have heard Mummy say “cancer” repeatedly on the phone since he passed.

He was this large man with big shoulders and his voice was deep, complimenting his imposing presence. He liked to watch movies with me and sister Morenike but always slept halfway into the movie. Daddy didn’t like us helping with kitchen work, he would prefer we sat with him talking about his work trips while swiping through pictures on his iPad. He always bought me and my sister what we wanted and took us outside the country for holidays. He was an angel to us but overhearing Mummy crying to Aunty Ajoke numerous times saying, “Daddy Imade hit me again” meant he had very big horns that only Mummy saw.

Things had just changed in the blink of an eye after Daddy left us. I think a part of my life has ended with him. There was this heavy silence in the house when we came home from school. Mummy stopped giving me and sister Morenike money to buy snacks in the school’s tuck shop. It has been just a week and she made it a habit to wake up by 4am every weekday to prepare food for us to take to school. I was not okay with it at all but I could not say anything. I am so scared of Mummy now. She always screams at us saying, “I am tired of you children.” She does not let us watch TV whenever we want. We had to be involved in kitchen work now, cutting all the vegetables and preparing meat stock for mummy to cook soup. If daddy were here, I would have been playing TicTacToe with Morenike while Mummy cooked.

I hate the way my schoolmates now look at me with pity, some with so much hate in their eyes. There was a rumor going around in school that Daddy was stealing office money. I do not even know what that means and I did not care. I just cared about my home, my mum and my sister Morenike. Mummy looked worse everyday, she barely spoke to us except she wanted us to do something, shouting at us for every little thing. She received calls from some people talking about some debts that Daddy had not “settled”. I do not think I want to ask Mummy what that is about. Sister Morenike barely ate her meals and it seemed like she wasn’t having enough sleep.

It is Saturday and Mummy came to my room early this morning with sister Morenike”, she said. “Your Daddy will be buried in two days, Imade. We have to do it fast. That is the last time you will see him. You need to turn in your tribute for the burial programme by tomorrow.”

That is when it hit me that I have truly lost him. I leaned into Mummy’s arms and wailed for the first time since he died.