The night before was when his dad finally gave up the ghost. The following morning, Kola woke up very early. And for a few minutes he stayed glued to his bed. He still couldn't believe his dad was gone. He lay there hoping to hear his father's cough, as he would often hear it when he was about to call everyone out for the morning devotion.
But then, there's nothing like that this morning. After going back and forth in his thoughts for a few minutes, he rose up to a sitting position on the bed, sighed, and then stood up finally. He immediately opened his door; it made a creaking sound like it always does, and the first thing he sighted was the chair his father often sat in in the sitting room. Beside it was a stool, and his father's glasses were on it as usual; his slippers were right beside the stool. Everything was intact and the way it was the day before, except for the 67-year-old man that owned them.
"Kola, your uncles are almost here." He heard his mum say from the other side of the house.
He quickly rushed out to greet his mom, wanting to also console her, but she looked good, so he thought against it. "She's trying to be strong, so it's best I remain strong too." So he thought. He went back in to prepare to welcome his uncles who are coming over.
The rest of that day was a mixture of wailings, greetings, prayers, cries, and all. Both relatives and friends filled up the whole house.
Towards the end of that day, when people were a little bit busy with other stuff, the relatives decided to hold a meeting in the sitting room. Kola was invited to be a part of the meeting as well. As they were about to conclude the meeting, their big mummy (Kola's aunty) beckoned to him.
"Kola, your dad made mention of a file to me about two weeks ago; check inside his cupboard and let the whole family see what's in it." She said.
Kola just nodded in response and went in. He opened the cupboard but couldn't find anything other than his clothes. As he was about to leave, he thought about the other side of the cupboard he could hardly see him open; he opened it and was greeted with dust and the smell of old books.
He saw some packed files at the edge of the cupboard and reached for them. He picked it up one after the other. As he reached for the fifth and last file, he lost balance. The contents of the last file spilled to the floor, and as he began to pick up the papers and put them back in the file, one of the papers caught his attention. His name was written boldly on it. He was so sure that particular one was for him. On it was written "Kola." Not a letter to Kola, not Mr. Kola, not my son... Just Kola.
He picked it up with trembling hands, opened it, and began to read the contents carefully....
"Kola, my son. I'm sure I will already be in the great beyond by the time you come across this. God knows best, so don't feel bad."
He fought the tears back and continued...
"I know I wasn't that much of an easy father to you. I know how you always feel; differently, I'm expecting more from you. I'm sorry about that. Forgive me. But in all honesty, I am, and I've always been proud of you."
The words became blurry as tears filled his eyes... He honestly wished for more; he wished he was being seen and appreciated; now those words he longed to hear were resting in his hands.
He had to wipe his face and then continue..
"Make sure to take care of your mum and help those in need as I've always done. Be a good man; don't cheat anyone. And remember, a good name will carry you farther than any other thing will......"
He heard a soft knock on the door followed by his mum's voice.
"Kola, did you find the files?" She asked.
"Yes, I'll be there shortly." He responded.
He quickly folded that particular paper into his pocket and went out to join in the discussions.
After all the whole discussions and all, and a meeting was scheduled for next time, he stepped out to take in some fresh air. Outside were some neighbors who were helping to arrange the chairs and some children who didn't understand what loss actually meant running up and down in the compound.
He stood there staring at nothing in particular for about five minutes when an elderly man came over.
"Your dad is a good man." The old man said.
"Yes, he is. I wished I had told him that more often." He replied.
The man sighed and made his way to one of the chairs that was arranged in the compound.
Tunde straightened himself as he stood.
Obviously, he can't change what has happened.
He can't change yesterday, and he can't do anything to bring his father back. But he can continue to live the good life his father had tried to teach him.
The morning after his father's death filled the house with wailings. Yet, in all of their cries and all, he found and heard his father's heart.
馃尮
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