A FALSE TRUTH PART 3

 It was a long while ago, when the area we stayed still had many uncompleted buildings and when my husband was still very busy. He would be at home for two days and go to work for five days. We tried to have kids and it seems not working. I believed in God only thus I wouldn’t doubt miracles in terms of child bearing. But I was bored those times. I would beg my younger sister to come keep me company most times and she tried but I can’t deny her a future, thus when the time came she had to move on. I had to think many times why all these things were happening to us, but I got no answer in my thoughts. 

It was twelve months after we got married that we went to the doctor to check what the problem could be that is affecting child bearing. After series of test; it was concluded to be erectile dysfunction in my husband. He felt so bad all through that season and he judiciously was taking his drugs with much exercises. I loved him more because he staying at home longer but after two months the season started again. We tried having sex like animals this period but it didn’t work. 

Then came peter as a young boy who always come around to help in cleaning and clearing of weeds. He was a real errand boy at that moment. My husband liked him because he is smart and decided to help him in furthering his education. Peter was always around and he was always there whenever I feel so bored and lonely. There were no phones at this moment. Gradually I started developing some feelings for him and because I allow him sleep in the house sometimes, he was the only person I can hold. It all started one night when we heard gun shots from a distance. There was no light that night and darkness ravaged the whole yard. I had to wake him up and he joined me in my room. We held ourselves tight as the gunshots were sounding closer. After a while we discovered we couldn’t hear them again. But there was something I could feel around my legs. It took a while before I could discern it was peter’s dick. It was hard as a rock. I could feel it so hard and it seems he knew when I discovered. Without hesitation he started fondling my breast and pulled the night gown I was wearing. The touch was different but it had been a while I felt that and that was how it started. The whole exercise lasted till the next morning. None of us slept that night and it followed suite till I was pregnant.   

I told my husband about my pregnancy when it could be calculated to when he came home. We were so happy and celebration was colossal. The whole area knew joy was coming to our home. I didn’t even allow Peter know it was his handwork. I have kept the secret forever but at this point I think I need say this. 

My mum held my dad and started apologizing. It was not a scenario to apologize. I can’t contain Uncle Peter being my dad. Someone we all disrespect and call for errands. Anytime we give him small money; he tells us all the stories in the world. Suddenly I would have to call him daddy. And what happens to my real dad. I fell on the floor in the sitting room in all tears. I can’t hold myself back more than that. I wept but that wasn’t the situation on ground. The pastor tried to calm the whole situation and asked of Uncle Peter. He was within the compound. When he was called and he entered, he thought it was still the grief of Babajide that made the whole turn into turmoil. He joined also but after a while pastor told Uncle Peter that he would follow him somewhere. The news of him helping my dad out with my mum was not to be disclosed to him in the presence of everybody. The news was to be kept amongst us family member but ……

They came back late at night. Sleep was a luxury no one could afford. We had cried into headache. That was the first time my dad had to cry. He was broken and I knew it. I can’t remove the fact that Uncle Peter had been sleeping with my mum out of my head but I just prayed everything calm down first then I’ll know what to do. 

The pastor entered with Uncle Peter and Engr Uchenna but Ugo still didn’t come. My dad asked if he was alright now and maybe he was just resting in the hospital. With an irritating look; he told Uncle Peter to leave the house and he left but something else happened. When they got there and Uncle Peter prayed nothing happened. He prayed so well that we had to tell him what happened. He confessed doing what he was alleged, but he is also sterile. He has low sperm count and he cannot impregnate a woman. That means there is someone else again. My dad was mad when he heard that. He looked at my mum and asked who the person was. My mum was mute for a while until she said “that means it was Steven”……..  which Steven, My best friend!!!

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?   

A FALSE TRUTH PART 1

Thirty days in a psychiatric ward has no explanation of normalcy. Although I’ve exhibited some behaviour that might seem irrational, I can explain everything around me. Science: that is the cause of my pains. No one seems to believe me. Everything I say seem schizophrenic to them. The sights and visions of demons are not believed and I crave one of them joins me in this unhappy adventure and torture I’m experiencing. A psychiatry hospital isn’t a place to visit. You must be an acclaimed patient to be a family there.  An institution built on rationality in a society that lacks rationalism. What characterizes abnormal behaviour really? 

I could remember how it all began. I have started exhibiting some strange actions at home but no one would expect lesser. Loosing a family member can lead to depression. Losing two in succession can lead to a psychiatric ward. As for me I lost four. My neighbour had heard the shout and rushed to the house. The lifeless body of my younger brother was on the floor of the sitting room. I had to cut the rope he had used to hang himself. When I left him at home; he was having fever. I rushed to the chemist down the road to buy some drugs for him and get him something to eat. My arrival was met by a lifeless body dangling from a rope. I called him Tunji! Tunji!! Expecting a reply and not believing what I was seeing. It was when I cut him down and checked there was no pulse that the scream called the neighbour. 

All was gone; father, mother and two brothers all in five months. The spirits in control of all these turmoil has now started their adventure on me but…….. I can’t really remember pulling my shirt and bra but I knew I was bundled into Afam’s car without a top. Afam has always been fantasizing a sexual adventure between both of us but I can’t just open my legs for him without a concrete meaning. Now I was opening everything with no meanings.

I had grown in strength and the aggression within was intense. It took three grown up guys to hold me down and tie me before they could locate the hospital. The welcome ceremony into the hospital wasn’t a good one. It took three doses of lagatin to get me stabilized. I was now cautioned on shout and the rules of behaviour were given to me. Questions were asked at intervals and whatever reactions one put up; it will be recorded as being mad. Memories and flashbacks are normal things in psychiatric hospital but there was something I knew that no other person knew.

There is a demonic spirit that visits. The spirit tells me everything that had gone wrong in my family. The spirit acts like a friend sometimes and other times it torments. It hides within me so many times and that is the cause of all these. The doctors are just so naïve that they don’t believe what I’m saying. The other day when a pastor came, it left the hospital completely but came later at night to attack the person that was prayed for. Her case grew worse afterwards. 

My name is Atinuke Bukus: the second child out of three. I have lost everything I could call family. I don’t know if I need to live again. Endangering my life has been tagged insanity. But the forces that rule my entirety are not naked to the normal eyes.

It was a lovely family; I could still remember the last Christmas celebration we had. Friends and families flocked the yard and drinks and food were in excess. The house was like a carnival arena. My brother graduated that year thus in preparation for camp by February he had the leverage to do whatever he pleases. Graduating with a first class wasn’t easy; he was really a pride to the family. Babajide was awake the next morning, helping with the cleaning of the compound. Afam was also helping. It was very difficult for me to wake up and for the first time I understood what they called hangover. I had some tots of brandy from the one my brother was drinking with his friends. I felt so dehydrated and every gulp of water the next morning produced a lot of sweat. 

I struggled to join in packing the plates and cups that were not broken. Mum and dad were confident of the kids they had thus sleep was a luxury they could afford. It was a four hours exercise and thanks to God, the weather was mild. I knew I needed to sleep more but Afam came with his disturbances again. Telling me how well he likes me. How can a married man be so disturbing like he married his wife before seeing her? The wife in all loyalty would still keep on praying for her husband. Afam has said everything a guy needs to say to me but something just doesn't make it click. I would rather masturbate than give in to Afam. When I was done with his episode it was time for me to sleep. 

It was carol night and everyone has to be there. It’s a ritual, not that we really enjoy the whole session of cracked voices singing “we wish you a merry Christmas”. And women in their menopauses, chanting “silent night”….. Sleep was a constant in a Baptist church but during carol night snoring was added. Ushers roamed our seat, waking us up at intervals and when we were finally done it was time to have the best sleep. Good nights were exchanged when we got home and the locks were put in their right places to prevent unwanted visitors at night. I had laid on my bed thinking about Afam. I saw his penis one day and it looked enticing. His intonation is one you cannot forget in a hurry. I always imagine him on top of me both naked banging hard inside of me but in reality I can’t give in. he was my last thought before I finally dozed off. 

Nothing woke me up the next morning but checking the time on my phone; discovering it was 7.30 am I knew I was in soup. I rushed out of my room to the kitchen and started making breakfast. I put on the TV and started sweeping the sitting room. When mum finally came out of the room I was 90% done with the chores. Where are your brother she asked and I answered like she didn’t know they are lazy people? She walked into the guys’ room and woke them up. Babajide and Tunji, now you people should stand up!!  With the tone Tunji jumped up and ran out of the room but Babajide didn’t move. Mum had to enter the room and gave him a lovely slap to wake him up. Surprisingly he wasn’t going to wake up that morning. The whole chastisement from mummy became an apology. Daddy joined in trying to wake him up and when they couldn’t; they rushed him to the hospital. The family was first tampered with when they drove back home and I asked uncle Rafiu the driver where my brother was; and he said Babajide is in the mortuary.