It was on a Thursday, Obafemi Awolowo University just had their mid semester exams and most students went home to chill and cool off while I stayed behind for internship orientation. Immediately I finished eating at the new ‘Buka’ (cafeteria), I proceeded to my room at ETF hall (one of the student’s dorm) which was a stone throw to the new ‘buka’. Opening the door of the room was standing in front of me Kenneth my roommate. He was wearing a very long and gloomy face. Kenneth is a naturally happy young man who prides himself as a clown and a very good dancer. He took the time off after the exams to see his parents and I sent him to my family as well to get some money and food stuffs which was the norm for most students then. Seeing him in that state was unusual and my curiosity was immediately aroused. Is all well Kenneth? I asked without hesitation. All is not well he said, you will need to go home, your father wants to see you and he asked me to tell you to come home as a matter of urgency. Why? What for? I protested and pleaded with him to tell me. He said he knows nothing other than that my father wants to see me.
I got home the next day with so much anxiety. The thoughts in my heart were overwhelming. I made a lot of money from tutorial classes after I graduated from high school and didn’t see the need to take money from my parents until the first semester of my 300 level (junior year) in college. Prior to resuming that semester I had told my mother that I was running low on money and she assured me she will henceforth give me all the money I needed for school since I had not demanded for money since I began college aside the usual food stuffs. I went to school then quite happy and feeling like a big boy. The days of being broke are over I told myself, I can buy myself new clothes, shoes and text books. I can also afford to impress my girlfriend with whom I enjoyed some level of big boy status (All fairness to honesty, beauty should have been her middle name). I will take her to the new ‘Buka’ weekly I said to myself thoughtfully, I will buy her the best of jewelries and make her feel proud of being my girlfriend I thought.
As I alighted from the bus and walked into the street of Osho Drive, people greeted me with long faces and nod their head in a pitiful way that snapped me out of my lingering thoughts about my beloved girlfriend. What could have been the matter? The feeling became agitation and I saw myself running towards my house. There were lots of people in my house which was very unusual and immediately I felt my heart in my mouth like I had swallowed bile. I called for my father and my mother with so much haste in my voice that made the visitors to leave one after the other.
Settling down on our old rugged sofa that will pass for a bare wooden bench, I looked directly into my father’s eyes and asked why he sent for me. My father is great at concealing his emotions. He hides his deepest thoughts in parables and mutters his feelings in proverbs. His love for his wife (my mother) is unflinching and admirable. After his retirement, he gave 92% of his gratuity to his wife and the remaining to my eldest sister to finance her law school expenses. My mom became the bread winner from the day I graduated from high school with my father as her topmost priority. She was strong and indeed a pillar with a strong voice to everyone around her.
I looked into my father’s eyes and saw my emotionally restrained father shedding tears. That broke me totally, there was no power in me to ask why the tears. I looked at my mother lying on the bed and wondered why she couldn’t stop my father from shedding tears. It was when my mother began to cry as well that my soul tore up and the tears like a running stream flowed down my cheeks. When we were all satisfied crying, the question was put forth and he opened his mouth. Your mother is stroked he said. Her left side is completely paralyzed he continued. She won’t be able to take care of us anymore; it is now time to take care of her. My thoughts went bizarre, how did she become stroke? She has never been sick, to the best of my knowledge.
How long will she remain stroked? What will happen to my siblings? Where are we going to go from here seeing that we are still very dependent? How will I finish my education, how will I support myself in school, how will I even go back to school? The thoughts flowed as the tears gushed. My spirit failed and sorrow took over me…pain assumed my brother. I started crying so hard, my already blissful heart has been punctured. I will quit school, I said to myself, I will take up a menial job (bus conductor, carpentry e.t.c)...thoughts flooded my subconscious mind. I was crying so hard now, I have always wanted to be a professor, finish my B.Sc, obtain my masters and get a PhD. The years ahead looked so short and uncertain with the knowledge of my mother’s initial promise of having my back. My dreams have suffered a ship wreck I screamed. Why now?!
The pain and frustration deepened while I sat there crying and thinking. Suddenly, I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, looking up I saw my father smiling at me with his usual grin that evokes hope. I know what you are thinking he said; your mother may not probably walk again or be agile to clothe, feed or reward you anymore, your schooling may be placed on hold, your life may be on the verge of tolling a difficult path as well as those of your siblings and me but this is not the time to give-in to despair he warned. As long as you remain focused and purposeful, THIS TOO SHALL PASS.
Your situation may be worse and heart breaking, your hope may be fading at the moment, things may be working contrary and it may seem there is no light at the tunnel after all. Take it from me, as I had dreamt earlier, today I am a stone throw from getting my PhD in a great country far away from home, my siblings are doing well in their own chosen field and my parents; they are strong and happy enjoying their old ages together. I am telling you with conviction and confidence remain purposeful and THAT TOO SHALL PASS.
