A FALSE TRUTH PART 2

The joy was gone and the whole atmosphere was that of mourning. What just started as a blessing became a curse. Same people that came to felicitate with us came back to blubber. The house was a full state of topsy-turvydom as questions were asked, why this should happen to us in this house. Many people became closer to the family helping out in all aspects. Black clothes were sown and appeals to stop crying were a regular. 

God gaveth and God taketh and I wonder why God has chosen our family at the point of celebrating his son’s birthday coupled with a first class just generated to take what was dear to us. Seven days after was picked as the day of the burial. There won’t be any celebration though. Just the normal practice of digging the ground and praying for the souls of the faithful departed before lowering the body into the ground. Babajide was loved by many and the eulogies sang were amazing. It was going to take some time before we forget about him completely. As for me I’m not sure I can forget about him. He was a brother who cared, his believes of a better future is extreme. I love him and will always love him. 

It was the fourth day when Engr Uchenna came to the house with his wife. They came in crying. At this moment, peace was now being restored a little to our house. When I saw them I remembered my brother again. Engr Uchenna’s first son Ugo is Babajide’s suppose best friend. He was not feeling fine during the Christmas groove we had in the house. The mother fell on the ground and started crying also. We started wondering what form of grief she was exposing in our house when we are really the ones suffering it. Engr Uchenna called my dad outside for a talk and in ten minutes they came back inside. My dad called my mum and they went inside. Engr Uchenna whistled some things to his wife and she was a little calm. Mummy wanted to follow them but daddy said no and off they went. 

After their departure my mum called me and told me a story that stopped me from crying and fear was introduced. Your brother and his friends did something so bad she said. They killed a female student and buried her in secrecy. The spirit of the so called girl is what is causing all these. I didn’t understand so well the first time until she went further to saying Engr Uchenna’s son is sick and they said your dad must pray for him before we bury Babajide else he will not be well again. I was now surprised. How can Babajide and Ugo kill someone? They don’t look it at all. They are the so called cream boys who go around liking women and dressing well. Added with a good grade; what would lead to them killing a girl. Is this story true I thought? 

It took a while before daddy came back and the Uchennas were still grieving. What has happened? Has Ugo died before they got there? The man didn’t look like someone that has lost a child. Mummy came outside and greeted them. She asked how far with the situation of Ugo and they said he was alright. Alright and Mrs Uchenna is still crying like this? The whole atmosphere was tensed and the way my dad was shaking his legs I knew something was wrong. A Peugeot 504 drove in with a cleric in it and I knew condolences are on the increase again. I rushed into my room with a turn off from whatever they were about to say. But the incidences to unfold are the most amazing in my life. 

The man came with an option of calling my mum aside to tell her whatever he wanted to tell her but my dad said he should talk about it inside the sitting room. My room is next to the sitting room thus I could hear what they were saying. The pastor sang a thanksgiving song before he continued into prayer. After five minutes they all said “Amen”. 

Pastor: madam, there is a situation and I don’t want to beat around the bush. The Uchennas here have a problem which I think you are aware of. The solution is, the father of Babajide should pray for Ugo’s recovery and he would be healed. Your husband was there and he prayed fervently and nothing happened. After consulting God again, I was made to understand your husband is not the father of your deceased son. 

My mum acted so surprised and asked so who is the father? That is what we have come to ask you madam. She looked at my dad and everybody in the sitting room angrily, stood up and entered the room. My dad followed and dragged her back into the sitting room. After a series of shout she admitted into the fact that the father was different from who we thought. There was a great aroma of pain and shame in the house. So who is the father my dad asked? She started crying profusely. My dad had no pity at all as he continued, who is the father!!!

Uncle Peter is the father of all the children……… when I heard this I nearly fainted. Of all Uncles, Peter?