It was a particularly dull and cold evening after a heavy rainfall. I'd just put on my sweater and tucked in my cold fingers to form a makeshift mitten when I heard my Dad behind me. "Kemi, let's go for a stroll."
I turned to look at him. Evening strolls with my Dad were his way of spending one-on-one time with his children, but it had just rained! "The roads are a mess now. Must we go?" I scrunched my adolescent face and hoped he would change his mind. But he was determined. I sighed and we set out.
As we strolled, we made small talk, complimenting the little changes in our neighbourhood but I felt my Dad had something on his mind. He was always direct and didn't beat about the bush, so I waited.
"How are you enjoying your first semester at the university?" he asked suddenly. I beamed because I loved our regular father-daughter talks.
"It's going great. The lectures are not bad. I'm learning new things and making new friends already," I replied. Later I wished I hadn't said anything about my friends.
"So your new friends must have had quite an influence on you to make you sneak out last month for a night party. That was unlike you."
My heart skipped a beat. Then it began to race as my ears rhythmically pulsed. I was sure I didn't imagine or hear wrong. My Dad knew I sneaked off to a night party a month ago! Why did he wait so long before telling me?
I was the quiet and maybe socially awkward nerd in the family. My eldest sister was my complete opposite and would encourage me to live a little. My parents often advised me and my siblings to carve our paths, a path we would always be proud of. Essentially, I was to be my own person and not let peer pressure or social influence change me.
I'd just gotten admission into the university. I was excited and saw it as an environment to spread my wings like a freed bird. I'd heard stories of how the university was a place to be 'free' and live like an adult. No more parental supervision or monitored lifestyle.
Some fliers were passed around in school about an all-night bonfire party. My new friends who stayed at the dormitories promised they would attend and urged me to join them. I was reluctant. I told them I lived with my parents who might not like the idea of me staying out late.
My friends looked at me like I'd sprouted two horns on my head. An undergraduate at the university tied to her parents' belt? I felt a bit self-conscious so I changed my mind on the spot and assured them I would make the party.
It was like a social awakening for me. Partying and doing some of the things teenagers did wasn't for me, I knew that. I loved my books, especially novels more but I wanted to give parties a try.
At night when everyone was asleep, I dressed up and put on one of my regular sweaters over my party gown in case I ran into any family members. That was how I sneaked out of the house and attended the bonfire party.
My friends were impressed that I came but they did not know 'how' I made it to the party. I had a superb time dancing, eating and drinking at the party. I started with soft drinks and then again, my friends gave me the weird look so I settled for beer. I nursed only one bottle all night because I did not like the taste.
When it was almost two am and my head was pounding from a nasty headache, I left the party and luckily got a motorcycle that took me straight home. I asked the rider to drop me a bit of distance away from our house so that the noise of the motorcycle wouldn't alert anyone to my nocturnal adventure.
I tiptoed inside and luckily found everyone still asleep, or so I thought, before jumping into bed. I grinned within myself that I'd gone to a party like a normal teenager and no one knew about it. It was my little secret.
Now I was busted. During my absence that night, my Dad had gone to my room to give me a book he'd just finished reading. He was shocked to see an empty room and suspected that my elder sister had inducted me into her wild ways. He stayed up until my return. Seeing I was alone, he realised I'd gone out on my own without informing anyone of my whereabouts.
My Dad hoped I would tell him of my activities that night, so he waited but I said nothing. I bowed my head in shame as we spoke. He made me understand that I took quite a risk that night. He was worried as any father would be and that I should have acted responsibly by informing him or my Mom of the party. He wouldn't have stopped me but made plans for my safety.
I apologised and promised to always inform him whenever I would stay out late at night or at a friend's place. I asked whether Mom was aware of my folly. He said he couldn't tell her as it would only make her worry more.
That night became our secret, among other hilarious secrets we kept from my Mom!