Reasons Why

9) Uzodinma

Chinedu tapped on the side of his hip with his index finger, his eyes fixated on his shoes as he stood in front of the door to his home in Imo state. When his mum had called him yesterday, asking him to come home for a reason he wasn't told, dread had filled his heart all through yesterday and all through the journey. Now that he was at his parents doorstep, he felt like running away. His father was a renowned businessman in Owerri. He sold electronics, did repairs and was good at what he did. Mr. Ahamefule was known all over their town. He was the pride of the people and a regional pastor in the Redeemed Christian Church of God in their community. The man was indeed a lover of God which was why he had never approved of his association with Bayo and Tim. Especially Tim. He viewed them as church goers and claimed they weren't of God. Were it not for the fact that Bayo's family was filthy rich and Tim's family incredibly influencial, he was sure his father would have forbidden him from being friends with them.
His biological mother had died giving birth to him. He was one of those lucky people who had a loving and supportive stepmother that he could comfortably call his mother and feel no emotional distance despite the fact that they weren't related by blood. He was blessed. He knew he was. But, his father had never wanted him to study Medicine. He had always wanted him to study Business Administration and become successful like him. His argument was that doctors in Nigeria suffer unnecessarily. While that was true, he had passion for the course. He didn't have passion for business neither did he like the tricky nature of it. To him, surgeons were brave men and women. Just how fascinating is it to open someone up to correct problems and complications in their body? He loved the idea of it. When he told his father he wanted to be a neurosurgeon during his senior secondary school after reading a lot of Ben Carson's books, his father laughed at him. It hurt. He remembered crying that night and being comforted by his stepmother. His two younger sisters often teased him and called him a crybaby after that incident, but he knew they cared. His father, however, was a different story. It was a miracle the man even allowed him to apply for Medicine and Surgery during his JAMB registration. 
"Brother!"
Chinedu smiled as he watched the baby of the house rush down the short stairs to hug him. His eyes widened when she tripped over her own foot. He quickly jumped two steps with his long legs, his arms outstretched. Luckily he caught her before she could hurt herself. "Chidinma, be careful. Don't go and injure yourself o." 
His sister didn't even mind him. She wrapped her hands around his legs. She could barely reach his waist. Aside from the fact that he was extremely tall, she was just ten years old. "Welcome, brother! I missed you."
Chinedu smiled and ruffled the already scattered and unruly hair of the little girl. "Aww. My baby." He pinched her cheeks and lifted her up in one swift motion. Hearing her laugh calmed his troubled heart. Her innocent grey eyes lit up with glee as she laughed. She was one of the few people blessed with a laugh that brought joy into the hearts of even the coldest person. People couldn't help but smile whenever she laughed. Her unique eye colour was another thing he loved about her. They had that in common. "Where is Chinyere?" He looked around the house as he closed the door behind him.
"She's at school!"
He smiled up at the girl in his arms. "Is that so? And why are you not at school, ehn Obi'm?" He said in a teasing baby voice as he tickled her sides with his fingers, making sure to support her well so she wouldn't fall as she struggled.
"I finished writing my test yesterday!"
All the noise and screaming made his stepmum step out of the kitchen with a pot in her napkin covered hands. As she made her way to the table, she smiled when she saw her stepson. "Is that my son Chinedu?"
The fair boy smiled at his stepmum and walked over to her to hug her after putting his sister down. "Mummy, good afternoon ma."
Mrs. Ahamefule stared at her son in awe. "Ahn ahn. You have grown taller o." She had to strain her neck to look at him. She playfully slapped his back and pushed him down. "How can a child look down on his mother while talking to her?"
"Eeey, mummy!" Chinedu laughed and tried to lie down on the ground and prostrate at her feet. 
"Ah, please don't stain your clothes." She held him to make sure he wouldn't touch the ground. Her smile was bright. Whenever her son returned home, there was always an aura of joy that followed him. Truly his name was working in his life. Gladys - royalty, gift of God. When royalty visits a house, joy is eminent. 
"Abi it's my clothes that will stain your floor?"
After much pleasantries were exchanged, he helped his mum set the table and do other house chores until it was late afternoon. He went into his room and took his bath. He didn't need to bring clothes or toiletries with him. His things were still in his room and his stepmum had bought new toiletries for him. All he brought with him was his phone and wallet.
The moment he heard screaming, he knew his immediate younger sister was back from school. It was already 3:30pm. He smiled and went to open his door so he could go into the living room to see her. Just as he touched his door handle, he heard his a deep familiar voice which instantly gave him anxiety again. His father.
Chinedu could feel his breaths getting fast and shallow. He was having a panic attack. He slid down his door and tried to calm himself down. Was this what his life had come to? Was this how he was going to continue reacting whenever he thought about his father? He remembered what his pastor said on Sunday, "fear is a torment. For the Lord had not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, of love and of sound mind..." While he found that word to be nothing two days ago, he really found good use of it today. Reciting those scriptures in his heart over and over again, he found himself calming down until he was completely still. His eyes were closed, his head on his knees and his arms around his legs. His position was fragile and at the same time protective. "Ah, Chineke. God, only you are aware of the reason why I was asked to come home at such short notice. Baba, whatever is wrong, please take control. I have no strength whatsoever to argue with my father. I know he is definitely going to suggest something that will anger me and grieve my spirit. Lord, help me to not be moved. Help me in this situation I'm in-" Chinedu jumped, startled when he heard a knock on the door. Quickly finishing his prayers in his mind, he stood up and asked. "Who's there?"
"It's me."
Chinedu sighed silently when he heard the voice. Of course. It was his dad. He braced himself as he opened the door. As his eyes focused on his father's form, he frowned immediately. The man looked far older than his age. The wrinkles beside his eyes were so prominent, his pot belly all the more evident and out of place with how thin he had gotten and his clavicles (collarbones) so obvious to the eyes. His father wasn't like this before he had left for school two months ago. "Ah, Daddy. What-"
"It's time to eat. Your mother asked me to get you."
All through the dinner, he felt uneasy and unsettled. He didn't know what to say and what not to say. He didn't know how to ask his father if he was sick or not. All he could do was answer trivial questions about how he had been faring, what he had been doing in school and how his friends were. Usually, his father would say a thing or two to express his dislike for Tim and Bayo whenever they were mentioned but to his greatest surprise, the man said nothing. That made him all the more worried. Just what was wrong with his father?
Chinedu's mind was full of questions. He was lost in thought, trying to figure out what was wrong all through the dinner until everyone had retired to their rooms. He was the one left to clean the dining table and sweep the dining area. Just as he had finished and was about to enter his room, he heard his father's voice.
"Chukwudi."
Out of all the names he had, this was the one his father loved to call him. Everyone else called him Chinedu. It was only his father that called him by this name and he only did that when he wanted to discuss something serious with him. He turned around to face his father. The man was now in his usual blue wrapper with orange lion heads scattered all around the material and a white singlet. "Sir."
"Come outside with me for a minute."
They went outside and stood at the balcony. It was 7:30pm. The neighborhood was usually noisy with shouts and laughs as this was the time families got together to gist and catch up after being out and about during the day. However, today, it was dead silent. Only the sounds of the crickets and frogs could be heard. The stars were already twinkling in the black inky sky and the moon, in all her glory, was at the centre of it all, shining down brightly from above as if she were smiling down on her children. 
This was the first time he had stayed fifteen minutes with his father without saying anything or arguing or quarreling about one thing or the other. It was awkward, yes, but still nice. It made him wonder what was so serious that could make his father this way.
"Chukwudi. Do you know how you got that name?"
Chinedu stared at his father's sombre expression as the man spoke. "No, sir."
Mr. Ahamefule smiled sadly. "Your mother gave that name to you before she died."
Chinedu blinked. That was news to him. 
"Those were the last words she spoke as she held you in her hands before she gave up the ghost." Mr. Ahamefule had to hold himself back from breaking down in tears. Twenty one years had passed since the passing of his first wife and still, he couldn't get over the pain in his heart. "It was a hard time. Uzodinma. That was your mother's name."
This was a rather rare occurrence. His father hardly ever spoke of his mother to him. No matter how many times he would ask, it always ended up in a shouting match between the both of them. So now that he was hearing about her, he couldn't help but listen keenly with rapt attention.
"You know the meaning, abi?"
Chinedu nodded. "Yes sir. It means the road is good."
Mr. Ahamefule smiled. "Indeed. Names really matter. The name of a man determines how his life will go. My father's name was Anaele."
Chinedu frowned. What kind of name was that? It wasn't complete. "That was just his name? Not Anaelechukwu?" 
"No. Just Anaele." Mr. Ahamefule smiled at his son's perplexed face. Of course Anaele meant to look at something. As his late mother had translated it for him back then, it meant, "to look on."
"Ah. That's not a good name o."
"Indeed. Because that was how his life was. He looked on as things around him were going wrong. He looked on as opportunities passed him by. When my mother saw how his life was, she named me Ahamefule."
"My name shall not be lost."
"Hm. She vowed I would never answer my father's name. She didn't want me to be like him. As a miracle child after twenty years of marriage and struggles, she made me answer Otutuoma."
Chinedu snorted. "Otutuoma means good morning. It's a greeting. So grandma made you answer a greeting."
Mr. Ahamefule smiled. "Oh it was more than a greeting. She knew what she was doing. I never understood why she did it until it began to work positively in my life. Otutu means morning, right?" He continued when his son nodded. "The Bible says that joy comes in the morning. If there is joy in the morning, doesn't that mean that it is a good morning?"
Chinedu's bushy eyebrows lifted in shock. Huh. The name was deeper than he had initially imagined. "So what she meant was that your life would be as joyful as a good morning?"
"Indeed. I admit I got bullied in school by ignorant children because of the name but when I grew older and began to understand things, I became grateful to my mother. Your mother was the only woman I met who heard my surname and didn't laugh at it."
Chinedu smiled. "She sounds nice."
"Oh she was. Fair skin, light brown eyes, silky hair. You look exactly like her."
He did?
"I'm sorry I have never shown you any of her pictures. So of course you wouldn't know. Ah, Uzodinma had a beautiful smile. It attracted a lot of attention wherever she went. Oh, and she could sing beautifully. She was a wonderful dancer. She was short and had a rather frightening anger." Mr. Ahamefule laughed at the thought of his late wife. "When she got pregnant, we were overjoyed. She was so excited. She was doing fine even up to the delivery point. There were absolutely no complications. You weren't a troublesome baby. You kicked occasionally and once she expressed pain, you would stop as if you knew you were hurting your mother. Quite a considerate child. I had thought you would be a girl. I was shocked when we checked and you were a boy. It was a rather stress free pregnancy. You weren't brought out through Cesarean Section (CS). You were born normally. Yet, even after they had cut the umbilical cord, she wouldn't stop bleeding. It was acute hemorrhage so they thought it would stop after a while. It was normal...so they said." His voice broke as he shook his head and held the hand rail tightly. "She was getting weak. She could barely speak audibly, her beautiful skin was becoming pale and her lips blue. Yet, she asked to see you. Just once. So, I brought her to you. As at that time, the doctors claimed they had to wait and monitor her first before recommending a blood transfusion. Doctors ehn? Ha."
Chinedu frowned deeply. Acute hemorrhage wasn't something that would kill someone if well managed. Of course they'd have to give a blood transfusion to prevent hemodilution or even anemia. Still since it was caused because of delivery, he could understand why they wanted to monitor her first. It depends on how much she bled.
"She was so happy to see you. Her smile was bright as she looked at you. You were so fair. You were almost white. Hmm, the moment you opened your eyes, she cried. I was shocked. I hadn't seen your eyes since they were closed all through. Blue. I inquired from the doctor and he confirmed that your eyes were completely normal and without any defect. That was when I knew that it was possible for two brown eyed parents to have a blue eyed child. It was special and peculiar indeed. As she beheld you in all your glory and your toothless smile, she whispered Chukwudi. God exists." Mr. Ahamefule broke down in tears. He was heaving and sniffing as he cried vehemently. This was the first time in the last twenty years he had allowed himself to cry this badly again. Initially, it was before God and his unknowing child. Now it was before God and his grown child that could understand now. "God exists was the last thing I heard before she suddenly closed her eyes and stopped breathing."
Chinedu hesitantly put a hand on his father's back as he let a few tears leave his eyes too. 
"It was later we found out that she had an issue with her blood platelets. It affected-"
"Blood clotting."
Mr. Ahamefule nodded and smiled. "Ah, that's right. My doctor. I opposed your dream, not because I hated you, but because the carelessness and apathy of doctors made me lose my wife. I didn't know she had low platelet count, but apparently, it was in her patient file."
Chinedu shook his head. How could the doctor forget that? 
"I almost lost you too. A nurse had been so careless with your checkup and if it were not for my mum, I wouldn't have known that you had jaundice."
Chinedu sighed. Nigerian health workers. Na waa.
"It is well. I don't argue with you or disagree with you because I hate you. I want you to live well."
"I know, sir."
Mr. Ahamefule sniffed and wiped his eyes with his palms. "Hmm. As you have decided that medicine is what you are interested in, then do it well. Please, I beseech you by the mercies of God, do not kill another man's wife or child out of carelessness."
He nodded. "Yes sir."
"Hmm. It is well. I've taken permission from your consultant and your course adviser. We are going somewhere tomorrow."
Before he could ask where they were going, he father was already walking into the house.
"Get some sleep. We'll leave by 10:30am."

A/N:

Obi'm - my love

Chineke - God

​​​​​​​This is not Pidgin. It's Igbo language. One of the many languages spoken in Nigeria aside from the general English.