episode 2
Sometimes what we do when we are alone is
our most safeguarded secret we do not want
others to find out. The big guy upstairs must
be shocked times without number at what His
creations in His image do in the sanctuaries of
their secrets. Why we do not want anyone to
see or know our hidden things is because at
the core of our conscious we know that it is a
sin yet we continue giving excuses for it.
Some people think that if others are not
seeing them then God is not seeing them too.
uhmm typical of a human mind. I tell you
there will be drama at the judgement day.
What my eyes saw, paralyzed my heart with
fear and shock. I couldn’t sponge the sight
before me without feeling faint and a desire to
throw up. Viyegzo was lying in the pool of her
own blood while wrapping the baby in tattered
cloths with all her remaining strength.
” i will kill you if you utter a word to anyone” i
could barely hear her voice. My childish mind
told me that something was amiss. i walked
backwards and looked if i could find someone
to help. It was all silent. I started running fast
to find my mum. I run all the way as if the
wind itself carried me. I found her and
breathlessly narrated my ordeal. My mum was
so shocked and pale. She shouted for
Viyegzo’s mum in the neighboring field and
together with other women we started off. Her
mum continue wailing all the way as if there
was a funeral. sometimes i don’t understand
why women wail like that. Whether in earnest
or in pretense you can never notice the
difference or else go ask Nigerian actors they
know best.
We were finally home. The women went to
the bathroom as i had said but Viyegzo was
not there and it was spotless. Naah if you
could see how these women insulted my mum
for raising a liar and spoilt kid like me , you
would think they got paid for it. How could i
have spoken things that were not worthy of
me at my age? Viyegzo’s mum said her dear
daughter had left for her friend’s place at the
neighboring village earlier that morning and
she had actually seen her off. She shouted at
my mum that we were on a mission to destroy
her family’s reputation because we were
jealous of her daughter’s success hence i
would never see the corridors of a secondary
school. That broke my mum.
What happened to Viyegzo is another story for
another day.
Since that day, it was like i had initiated
myself in trouble. We carried on very well. I
could beat and bully my classmates at school
and defied my teachers to the extent of
banning me to attend most of their lessons
eventually i failed examinations and repeated
three times in Standard 5. When we went to
the lake swimming and washing with my
friends, i could hide their clothes until dark.
They would be going back home naked and
crying. It used to give me amusement and
satisfaction to see them suffer. The beating i
would get from my dad later on sometimes
made me think he was not my real father.
My mum was outside peeling cassava to
make Kondowole flour for our nsima while my
dad was at the lake mending fishing nets with
his friends and i knew they would not be back
anytime soon. I saw that opportunity as
perfect to go in their room and find what i
could steal. I went through my mum’s purses
and handbags but i did not find anything i
liked. A hymn book and a new testament bible
were not my ‘thing’. I searched my dad’s
pockets but found his tobacco and medicine
for his cough. I never understood what
pleasure he found in that smelly stuff. The
tobacco was draining him sip by sip but he
was too stubborn to see it. I looked in their
traveling bag. excitement coursed in my blood
as i touched something papery at the bottom
and knew instantly what it was. Money and a
lot of it. These people were cruel. The
previous day my dad had refused to pay
money for the book i had torn to tatters when
my classmate refused to borrow it to me.Now
what was this? I decided to tech him a lesson
by taking all the money and spend it on those
sweet candies i loved the following day at the
market. I stuffed all the notes in my p@anties
and smothered the bulge which was showing.
I smiled to myself.
I turned to go.
“Wangu uchitanji munu?” (What are you doing
here Wangu?)
It was my father……………….



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