MY LIFE GROWING UP

"Daddy don dey come back!" My immediate younger sister shouted from the small fence demarcating our house and our neighbors own.

Immediately I and my brother heard it, we abandoned our play group and ran off as fast as our legs could carry us, I bruised my legs while trying to jump the fence because we dared not go through our gate and risk our dad seeing us.

We flew into our house and met my sister's doing sped up arrangements, flinging back toys, papers and plates in their right places, folding the clothes my dad had instructed us to arrange in our parents room and scattering our books in the living room floor like we were reading.

The loud blare of his car horn signified he was at the gate. That horn sounded to our ears like an arrival of a tyrant which we all dreaded so much.

I ran out to open the gate, my chest heaving hard from too much running and rushing.

"Daddy good evening sir, welcome." I greeted between fast breathes, my hands scratching my sweaty neck that left marks of dirt in between my just growing nails.

My dad whined down his car glass as he sized me from head to toe, my legs quivering as his eyes journeyed through my body.

"Hope you and your siblings didn't go anywhere?" He asked me, his face expressionless.

"No daddy, we are inside reading our books." Ten years old me lied, forgetting that my dad wasn't a child.

He nodded and drove in, parking in his usual spot. I ran over to help him carry his bag and he handed a big loaf of bread to me to take in.

My siblings were bent over their books sweating heavily while trying hard to rush through their assignment. Thank God I finished mine before running off to play.

"Daddy welcome sir." My three siblings chorused like they planned it, they didn't raise their head to look at our dad.

Our dad first went straight to the fridge to drink water then came back to where we were.

"Are you done with the work I gave you?" He asked us, sinking into an empty couch.

We looked at each other then turned to face our dad nodding like agama lizard.

"But why are you all sweating? And just look at your legs, what happened to it?"

We wiped sweat with our arm and looked down at our legs, God!!

In all our rushing and arrangements, we forgot to wash our dusty and dirty legs that looked like we entered mud.

Seeing that we have been caught, we all turned to him and tears began to trickle down our eyes.

That night we all saw hell, me especially because the kind of beating we received, even our mum couldn't save us.

Our dad waited till after dinner when we were already asleep in our room before he pounced on us, lashing strokes and strokes of koboko on our little bodies.

He locked the door so our mum couldn't enter, she stood at the door screaming and begging.

Many other similar scenerio played out...

***

My childhood was filled with serious phobia for my dad as he didn't cease to unleash the stings of canes and screaming on us at any slightest opportunity.

Our mum wasn't spared, she too received beatings atimes when she tried to stop him from beating us or whenever they had a quarrel.

Once we hear his car horn outside the gate, we all fly inside and pretend to be asleep or helping our mum in the kitchen.

We were never allowed to play with friends when he's around,neither were we allowed to go out of the house.

Neither was our dad serious with God. All he cared about was his business and showing off in church fund-raising. People knew him as; "that man wey dey last come church and first go house."

At any slightest opportunity he would scream unprintable names at our mum and us.

"Usèless woman,see as you dey do like okro soup, fóólish children,ozuor" etc were some of the names he adorned us with.

Whenever our mum came late to shop, instead of reprimanding her in private,he embarrasses her in public and even beat her atimes.

As we grew, the phobia turned into hate and resentment. We no longer ran away in fear but we simply couldn't sit in same room with him.

I remember the last time he tried beating our mum, that rainy morning still feels like yesterday.

We woke up to shouts from our parents room, and before we could come out they had began fighting, not fighting actually because he was hitting our mum.

21 tears old me stood watching in anger, my veins almost popping at how my dad was dealing blows at my mum.

Suddenly we all rushed to them, my siblings and I, as if we planned it and grabbed our dad.

We pinned him to the bed and I began choking him with tears.

"Never you touch our mum again, don't try it!!" I screamed as my tears dropped on his surprised face.

I let go of him and fell to the ground crying, realising we had just committed a great sin.

Our dad who was still taken aback from what just played out, stood up and walked away without a word.

I organized my siblings and we went to beg him on our kneels later that day for laying hands on him.

For the first time in all my years on earth, I saw him cry, he legit shed tears.

He forgave us and apologized to our mum, since then he never laid his hands on her or scream at us anymore.

Though he still reprimands my younger ones whenever they're wrong, but it reduced from the everyday routine it used to be.

Though we're all good and okay now, but the relationship can't be mended as we don't share any bond with him.

He always feels bad whenever he meets us chatting happily with our mum and laughing, then immediately he enters, everyone grows silent, then one after the other we leave the sitting room for him and his wife.

Even when he calls us to sit and gist, everyone just keeps silent fiddling with their phones making it look awkward.

When his business had a great turn around and everything came crashing, our mum whom he always calls usèless was the one who stood by him through the rough times,all those friends that gives him ginger and he spends on them all ran away.

I'm a grown man now ready to settle down and I pray to God each day to make me a father and not master to my family.

I pray and put in works each day never to hit a woman no matter the temptation.

Many times when my fiance starts to talk all these women talks during our arguments, I try very hard to curtail my anger. When it's not working, I grab my shirt and car key, leaving the house for her to drive around till I'm calm, then I come home and we talk it out.

Growing up, I knew my mum dared not say such because before it finish leaving her mouth, a slap will meet her but to what end? It's marriage and not a master to slave relationship so why would I have to hit the woman I love in correction?

I try hard never to scream or call her names, I have vowed when I found Christ that I will be nothing close to my dad, not even a thousand inches close, tufiakwa!!

I will never be an "obata mmadu nile agba oso" type of father,I will not be one who sends chills down my kids spines,one who they can't sit close to talk more of being able to relate their issues with.

The kind of home I grew up in made me scared to tell them when I was abused sexually by some women in my teenage years. I couldn't even tell my mum because I feared she would tell my dad and he might kíll me.

Thinking of that now, I fear for what my other siblings might have passed through and things they kept in hiding because of fear.

I will be my kids bestie, one whom they can go to whenever they're facing any situation.

I and my fiance Daberechi always drags playfully on whom the kids will be closer to and I tease her that they'll be closer to me than her.

"Babyyyy!!!" My fiance's voice jolted me out of reverie. I stood up from where I sat and walked to the door to open it for her.

"Oga Kyrian how far?" She tugged at my cheek playfully, she always does this because she calls me her son.

"Madam Dee nkem, welcome." I grabbed her small bag and drew her in for a hug, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo from her hair.

Lord, help me to build a love filled home and not a toxic one....

I just thought to give you all a glimpse into my life growing up, the life of Jane and his siblings, Amarachi,chizoba,onyinye