Perspectives

3

The Nnemeka's Mansion
5:00pm

Yobanna

I was once again in my house, sorry my father's house.
I parked my power bike right beside my dad's black Benz, the latest model, the least of his cars.

The compound was extremely large that one could use it as a plantation, I found the large expense of land useless now, once upon a time, it was football field for Mattew and I but now it was just empty and deserted.

Different palm trees welcomed one into the compound, all lined up side by side and then the flowers, whoever was the gardener was doing an excellent work and then the fountains at strategic points in the compound, the view was better at night, with the blast of colors from the flowers, water from the fountain and the light stands that stood beside each palm tree, it was cool.

I took in two deep breaths as I stood before the mahogany door, the strong door that could probably be bulletproof. I took deep breaths to prepare me for whatever I  would see inside, for the words I'll have to utter, the strength I'll have to gain to pass the night in the house without throwing up, without shouting my lungs out. I took two deep breaths and then I pushed the door and closed the door quietly behind me.

I turned around slowly and I saw him, my dad, there he was on the white couch sitting down, sipping wine quietly and doing God knows what on his phone.

The sitting room was just one of the 4 in the multi billion dollar house, it was not an exaggeration when it was called one of Africa's finest homes. From the quality of artifacts hanging on the white walls down to the marble floor to the gold touches at every pillar in the house.

The sitting room reminds me of a dome, crazy roof that took the shape of a dome, gold patterned ceilings and then  I wouldn't want to talk about the lamp holding out at every angle, they looked like lamps with tiny light bulbs, about 100 hang on the ceiling giving it a kind of royal look and i wouldn't want to talk of the spotless white couch, the round center table, the customized TV, the Persian rugs, the large window that give one a nice view, the artifacts that cost millions, my family was wealthy, swimming in money, swimming in wealth, I focused on my dad, he was twirling the content of his  glass, some expensive one I knew but I wasn't interested. I hated the fact that I looked like him,the fact he was called my look alike made me want to wash my skin color,change something about me so I wouldn't be associated with him.

"At least a good evening wouldn't be a bad idea"

I seethed in anger and disgust. I stood there watching him, imagining thousands of ways I could wipe that smirk off his face. I clutched my fist and kept my rage in check, muttering incoherent words to myself, trying to reassure myself that he couldn't make me angry.

I ignored him and was about to climb the stairs to my room when I saw my mum with her young lover leaving an opposite room, she was sweating,she was smiling,she was happy. She was yet to notice my intense glares on her and the light skinned bastard. I stared at her trying to understand her twisted mind.

She finally noticed and her smile was gone,she was trying to put herself in order, trying to wipe the sweat,try to conceal the fact that she had fun with a young nigga while my dad sat in the sitting room,try to conceal the fact that my dad was sick,she was sick,the bastard was sick, infact sickness ran in their blood.

"Yoba..." She tried to call me

"Today was your daughter's visiting day" I paused and took a look at the one time beauty queen

"Don't worry,I know you were busy having fun,she's fine and she's doing well. I see you have a new person, impressive"I said and walked some steps before my dads voice stopped me.