At a federal hospital in osun state.
(My dad was lying on an hospital bed but his face was beaming with smiles.)
Dad:Mama beans(as he fondly
called me, close friends know that beans especially with garri is my favorite till date) how are you?
Me: I am fine daddy, when are you coming home.
Dad:soon dear(he smiled just to reassure me of his safety)
(He embraced me and then whispered into my ears) Take care of your junior brother and don’t disturb your mum.
I nodded in affirmation and mum and I left the hospital.
Everything was fine after I left the hospital until one morning back at our home town when three men dressed in the same uniform dad usually wore came into the house and handed over a piece of paper to my grandfather and my aunt dressed me up in a grey skirt and white shirt. There was a blue car in front of the house that took us to our destination. When I got there, I saw my mum, she was crying bitterly and some women were trying to console her. I saw an already dug grave and I watched my father lowered into it. He was on the same uniform those men wore earlier but he had gloves on his hands and tiny balls of wool in his nostrils. People cried but i didnt understand the reason behind their tears. My mum shivered as she was given the shovel to lower sand into the coffin and the men in same uniform as my dad fired their guns into the sky.
We came back to our house in ibadan where we lived. Mum pulled my younger brother and I to her chest and wept. She then looked at me and said,”your dad is dead.”
Then I realized what was happening, I won’t see him again. Truly he is dead. My junior brother was just three years of age so he didn’t understand the situation. He lived seven years of his life believing his father was in America.
Written by olaleye oluwadamilola