I sauntered into our then-vast lobby with a white breakable plate in my hand. Apparitions of ghosts hosted themselves in my mind as I idly wandered.
Faces and images could be seen without the help of an artificial light, yet the haziness of the room indicated that the day was far spent and light was on the verge of being swallowed up by darkness—an allegory of what my fate was to become.
Then he walked in. The soberness of his countenance wasn't loud enough to complement the heaviness of his heart, but it left traces.
"Your mother will not be back today." He spluttered. "Your dad slummed." "He's bedridden as we speak." He added.
"Can I come to the hospital?" I asked.
Before he could answer, we were interrupted with a shattering noise. It was the result of a collision between the ceramic plate I held in my hand and the marbled floor that held my legs. My ghosts pushed it down, I guess. The floor wasn't fair. It dealt with the plate cruelly.
"I'm sorry". I apologized to no one in particular. I received comforting words that, in my opinion, would've been more suitable for the plate since it had received the blow.
The place grew quiet again. The distraction bought him time to find his voice, as he quickly answered the question that was left hanging in the hazy atmosphere.
"No!" "You can't come; stay home with your younger siblings."
I watched him walk away till he got covered by the dusk.
Pardon me! I know. You must have stretched your mind trying to picture my situation. Trust me, it wasn't intended. I'm only overwhelmed by emotions.
You see, at that time, I was at the most conflicting stage of life—a big boy about to metamorphose into a full-fledged adult. I lived in a cosy apartment with my parents and three lovely siblings. I was and am still the eldest son.
I used to hear stories of the harsh realities of life. I couldn't relate. Apart from the scorchingly hot tropical sun of West Africa, where I resided, there was nothing harsh about my realities. My life was fair in all senses.
I grew up in an upper-middle-class but modest home. My dad was a politician, a pastor, and a socialist of high standing. Mum wasn't doing badly for herself either.
My siblings and I went to the best of schools—class, beauty, elegance, braininess, well-behavedness, etc. are some of the compliments we were often accorded.
Then, just like a desert encroaching on fertile soil or darkness swallowing up the light, woe stepped in. It began with a maternal uncle. The youngest of them all, a tall, handsome young man who was only about to have a full taste of life's goodies, was snatched by death. Had it stopped there, maybe I wouldn't have had visions of ghosts that very evening, but my maternal grandmother, who was full of life yet surrendered to death, and then two other tall, rich, young maternal uncles followed suit.
while we were all pitying my mom for the havoc wreaked by death in her family. Little did we know that my dad was affected the most. And it makes perfect sense to me now that I'm a full-blown man.
When we men take up women as wives, we do so with the promise of loving, caring for, providing for, and protecting them. We count ourselves failures when we see them going through things we can do nothing about. Perhaps helpless is the worst state a man could be in.
Back in the lobby, I bear a resemblance to the plate I was holding—it's broken; I'm broken.
My night arrived earlier than usual. The dark news, coupled with the dark night, gave the ghosts in my heart a field day.
That day, the distance between dusk and dawn was the longest I had ever experienced.
Just when I thought that night was over, I was greeted by doomy and gloomy faces. It was that of my only surviving uncle, the same person who broke the news of my dad's bedrest the previous day.
"Your dad is dead." He mumbled. The night continued. The morning never came, yet I managed to grope—covered some distance until I got into a sanctuary.
I uttered some words of prayer. They were unintelligible. I didn't know what to ask for after all; the worst has already happened. But I believed that I was answered because I fought my ghosts and demons and conquered. I survived.