The Deacon's Daughter. By Thercee Murdee

I watched with sadness as she chewed the gum out loud, not caring the noise it made and where she was. And to think that this was not the first time.

'Felicia had sold her soul to rebellion', that was my conclusion.

I couldn't comprehend why a deacon's daughter would chose to defy all church authority and disgrace her father so much.
Deacon Okafor must have become too tired to be frustrated by it anymore.

'Why are you like this?' I summoned up courage to ask Felicia after service that day.

The whole time, I was distracted by her attitude. Today she not only came late as usual and occupied her regular spot, I mean the last seat at the last row, she as well dressed to seduce. It definitely was to seduce. I noticed the ushers trying to make her leave but seeing her sit comfortably at her normal spot was enough evidence to tell the outcome of their efforts.

She did well to eye me from up to down, hiss and walk past like I was a light poll obstructing her way.

'Who was to blame?' I thought within myself.

For as long as I have been in the church- 'Our Father's tabernacle', I've come to know her father as a Deacon and her mother as the women leader. They were very active in the church. It was even the duty of her father to make sure the church was open by 7am for the one hour prayers before sunday service began. I would watch him drive alone and leave his family to come on their own. His wife came when prayer was over while his children trooped in much later. Felicia's case was the worst but the rest of them didn't come early either.

'Was it a crime for him to come with his entire family at once?

What was going on in the home?' these and many more troubling questions settled on my mind whenever my thought strayed to the Deacon and his entire family. How tragic!
And yet this is happening everywhere.

I remember just two days ago when Ken my neighbour got back from drama rehearsals in his church with a gloomy face. He was looking so bad that I couldn't let him walk out of my sight even after he had tried to convince me that he was fine.

On seeing I wasn't bulging to his plea to be alone, he spilled out. Behold a similar issue, only in another location.

The daughter of his sunday school teacher, a member of the drama group, walked into their meeting as it was about ending, knowing fully well she had been given a role that she would take the next day been sunday. She didn't even feel any remorse, rather she told them she wasn't interested and was only there so they could tell her father she came. How pathetic!

I was so pissed!

'Why did they give her a role in the first place?' I asked Ken immediately.

He said their pastor had pleaded with the group to try and include her in it, hoping she would change.

'Really? how would that work?' I probed further but he didn't know what to say.
His own reason for been sad was because the drama was automatically cancelled.

Sarah their only female and consistent member was not around either.

'Its God's work', He'll have His way. That was all I could say. But my pain still remained.

These men, these women. Parents they are, leaders as well but not in their homes.

Somehow I'll say they have failed. Even if it doesn't entirely lie on them, they had a role to play. I try not to judge, believe me it has not been easy.

But my Father's words I must obey-'Judge not, lest you be judged'.

I must say this however that

'Whoever you are, be it first in your home. Set the example, create the standard, implement the rules. If they should ignore it, then you are guiltless, but if you never did anything and they turn sour and eventually bitter, believe me God would hold you responsible.

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Dear Mr. Husband (9)

Dear Mr. Husband (9)

Clara sat in her office reading Ada's newest story for her magazine and truly she was enjoying it.
She couldn't believe that marriage could be interesting the way Ada makes it feel except of course Ada wasn't telling the truth. She knew her friend so well to know that Ada would rather not say anything than lie about what she was saying. So it had to be the truth.

That means marriage was beautiful if the parties worked together to make it so. Her own idea of marriage on the other hand was a wacky one.
The one her parents handed over to her.

She got up from her seat and walked to her window at the office as she allowed her mind to go down memory lane. To the memories she had tried so hard to suppress.

***************
'Clara! Clara!! her mom called out to her from the kitchen were she was making dinner.

'Ma!' She answered as she ran to go to her mum in the kitchen. She recognised that tone and she knew what it meant.

'Men are evil and all the same, all they want is what's between your legs, but you my dear have to be smart.' Her mother said to clara who was going to turn 11 on her next birthday.

'Take your father for example' She continued

'if I'm not the kind of smart woman that I am you think I will be where I am today? If he makes perm, I will pack my load and leave him because I have my own secret plan. So nobody can take me for granted. No body! Clara's mum said waving her index finger in the air to drive her point home.

This had become a norm for some time back in their home
Clara had to seat through this sermon from her mom almost every other day and her young heart certainly couldn't contain everything she heard.

Her mother made everything about her relationship with her father open even down to their sex life. She was literally washing their dirty linen in public only this time she was the public.

Later that day, it would be the turn of her father and yet she had to listen but she loved her father more.
Maybe it was because he always bought things for her or maybe be cause he always told her he was proud of her no matter what she did.

She decided that if her parents ever had a divorce or split for any reason, she was sure going to move in with her father, her mother bitterness could choke you if you stay with it for one full week, that was not a better option. But moving in with her father never happened.

'Ibinabo! are you there? Her father called out to her from his room after he returned from work later in the evening. He always loved to call her by her native name, maybe that was another thing that endeared her to him.

'Papa, I'm coming' she replied. She was glad he had sent for her, that was the perfect escape she needed to leave her mum bitter talk.
She walked fast to her father's room heaved a sigh of relief before turning to face him with a smile.

'Papa how was work today she asked him as she sat on the chair in his room.

'Work was fine my dear' and how was school today? He asked his daughter.

'It was fine papa. She responded.

Her father smiled.

'Ibi! I know one day you will be a woman and a wife to somebody, please when that day comes' he continued. Don't become like your mother.

This was the part that Clara didn't like about her father too, bad talks about her mother. She knew her mum wasn't a saint and she too also avoided but he didn't have to dump all the info onto her. Her head almost always felt like exploding after each talks.

'Please don't be like her, she's evil' he continued
'She is wicked. All women are wicked actually only a few of them have a good heart. Please be among the few.

'How can my own wife disrespect me in public' he continued saying 'And even call me names in the presence of the whole neighbours?' He asked to nobody in particular

'I was going out was it last week or so when one little child came towards me smiling and calling me 'Uncle Idiot' thinking 'Idiot' was my name obviously because your mother always called me that when I'm leaving the house.

Clara felt sad and placed her hands on her kneels while her palm held her face.
What could she do than listen and listen again.

She often wondered what went wrong between her parents, how the love they once shared went sour. Though if she was honest the tension started maybe before she was even born because she grew knowing that there was no such thing as love between her parents.

The love they once had, turned into hatred and graduated into resentment and bitterness.

From that tender age, she vowed to stay single.
'What was the use of suffering so much torture, staying with someone that you obviously hate' she imagined.

She often went to bed in tears.
She couldn't let anyone into what was going on in her house and been an only child didn't make it easy.
*********************
She sighed again as she shook her head to make the memories go away. They just couldn't stop.

*****************
'Its time for me to finally leave your father Clara,' her mother was saying as she angrily stuffed her box with her clothes

'Mama, you can't leave me alone, please don't go, please mama don't go' a twelve year old Clara begged.

'My dear you won't understand' her mother said still taking down her belonging and folding them together.

'Your father is not a man, he can't even take care of me. My skin was glowing before I met him, I had all that I needed before I married that man, but look at me now, twelve years after and I can stand with my mates because of shame.'

'I will talk with Papa, mama I promise' she begged.

Her mother didn't listen to her.

'I just have to leave' I just have to.

'Mama, where will you go to?' Clara asked with tears soaked eyes.

'I am a smart woman Clara I told you that before. I have been secretly building a house for my self for a while back now. It is now complete so I will move in there with you.

'A house?' Clara asked with her eyes wide open from shock
She couldn't believe her ears. Her mum had a house unknown to her father and herself. What else was she doing secretly she wondered.

Just then they heard a knock at the door. They both stopped talking and wondered who it was. The knocks came more frequent.

'Go and see who is at the door' her mum ordered her out of the room as she continued arranging her belongings.

'Mummy, its police oh' she ran back to let her mum know

Clara watched her mother arrange her hair and straighten her clothes as she made to go out to the police waiting for her outside. She shut the door after her.

After a brief moment she heard a maddening shout come out from behind the door.

Clara ran to the door and ran as she saw her mother rolling on the ground. Something was not right.

'Mama what is it? She asked repeatedly
All she got from her mom was a continuous shout of
'Ewo ohhhhh, Ewo ohhhhh' as the neighbours surrounded their house.

'Mama Clara?' Different people were calling out to her trying to fathom what could have happened

Her response was more shouts and crying and then she dropped the bomb shell.

'E don die oh, e don die!'

At first Clara didn't understand what she meant until one of the women came and grabbed her too and said

'Oh my pikin sorry, sorry oh your papa don die.

She couldn't believe it. Her world crumbled with those words and she wondered if she would ever recover for the shock those words sent her into.
***************
TO BE CONTINUED...
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Dear Mr. Husband continues

Ada's story continues...

I loved to watch Chisom everyday as she grew. Been a mother really was beautiful. There were days I wondered if she really came out from me, she was simply lovely to behold.
Her adventures on the other hand were not as pretty as she was. They would fill a 60 leaves book from cover to cover if I were to write them all out.

One of those adventures was her selective sucking prowess.
Chisom was one hell of a sucker, I mean she can suck you till you're dry, but she chooses the kind of food she wants to show that side of herself.

I would eat a really nice meal say fried rice and beautifully fried chicken when I'm done she would smile at me licking her lips. Like she was saying

'My turn now mummy'
The days I didn't eat something nice to her standard say pap and akara she would be there forming sleep like she's saying

'Mummy no, I think I'll pass' and off she zooms to dreamland.

I mean who does that?

This baby sure knew what she was doing. They say children are born with a clean slate and life impresses things in their little mind my Chi Chi was the exception to that long standing theory. She was a smart ass right out from the womb.

Another example of her smart 'assness' was the night she was born. The hospital was brightly lit with NEPA light, soon there was power failure. Before the hospital could switch over to their generator, my dear Chi cried a storm. Immediately power was restored so was her quiet restored also.

Hmmm she was showing me signs that she was an upcoming 'ajebor'

Or was it the time I waited for her to poop all morning so I could change her diaper but oh she withheld that poop right until the moment I was just about to change her and out came the watery smelly poo right on my bare lap and she smiled afterwards.

Huh?
I was about to spank her buttocks from the bomb she released when she sent another missile and giggled afterwards.
I looked at her and couldn't help but smile back. Her cuteness washed my anger away and she knew she got to me with her smile.

Been a mother was truly a wonderful experience especially been a mother to a wonderful and mischievous child as Chisom was. Those experiences, I wouldn't want to exchange them for anything else. It comes with its challenges though well so does every other thing.

Initially, I thought I could win an award for been the neatest mother alive. You know keeping the house sparkling clean always, the chores done at the right time and all stuff, you know the feeling of been on top of your game. That feeling.

That was an illusion I had created and I knew doing that was going to wear me out sooner or later and I learnt that the hard way.

So I needed to place priority on what should be done and when it should be done and still be available for my man.
I mean what good would it do if Uche came home hungry and needy and all I could do will be to show him the super sparkly cleaned floor or the super shining laundry I did.
Would he eat the clothes Or kiss the ground till he was full?

I soon leant from some of my friends that had gone ahead of me. They told me how they manage to do theirs and after picking a thing or two from them, I found a system that worked for me and stuck to it.

I would fix Uche his breakfast for him to go to work, bath Chisom and put her in her rocker, check the other things that needed fixing. When Chisom finally falls asleep that was my cue to fall asleep too

In all I knew that if I wasn't in a good state of mind I would crumble under the change of lifestyle so after I took care of my two 'babies' I took a moment for me to breathe and relax with a bottle of non-alcoholic wine (I mean who would want Chisom to be high? Since she still sucks from my twin towers, if I take alcohol I'm sure she would punish me for that) and allow my mind to roam freely...

Been a mother was fun...

TO BE CONTINUED...
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