In The Beginning

Crazy!

Insane!!

I could remember a certain period when the people who i called my loved ones used such words to describe me as a character. Though it did show on their faces, i still heard them on several occassions whisper to eachother about the way i behave. eavesdropping I would say at this time became not just a friend of mine, but as a hobby, as it served as the only possible way of getting to hear of any information in my house. I was never told anything serious, hardly does a joke or a bit of humor came around. The only time i might be found laughing or smiling is when my gaze is fixed on the wide screen television set nailed against the wall of the living room, either watching a movie or a cartoon. Everybody appeared to me like some sort of strangers, if actually they ever existed since I was generally construed as being unreasonable or being a freak who can only be described as being human when am sleeping or inadvertently glued to my drawing board. The strange attitude which they claimed I usually put up threw them off thoughts. In some cases, I will only have to greet them when necessary, and even at that, they seem not to be bothered. On several occassions, my mother took me to her medical doctor for a thorough check up even with the doctor's reassurance that nothing of sort seems to be wrong with me. This made me feel sad, but happy at some point. Happy that everyone was quite careful the way they dealt with me and sad because i lived like a stranger amidst my blood. Where it all got worse to an extent that i began seeing myself the way they see me equally was a scenario where even a close friend of mine in school underwent an interview section with my mother and equally admitted to her of my weird lifestyle.

At Twenty two, I had graduated from college. I was more jobeless than ever. Seeking a job was one hell of a struggle. I never knew where i would fit in correctly. The first place i got a job seemed to me like a place i shouldnt have stepped my foot into. After a week of securing the job, I was just on my desk, pretending to be busy when the manager of the firm where i work walked up to my table. he was just about handing over to me some sort of files which he had instructed me to work on which i suspect i didnt execute properly, when suddenly he slumped, placing his right hand on his chest and wrriggling in pain. He was immediately rushed to the nearby hospital but was reported to have died after having tried everything possible to make him breathe again. The memories of the death didnt go so well for me as it reminded me of the death of my father who had died, owing to thesame similar incident.

The memory of my father didnt seem to abate my thoughts in an abridged time. I remenbered losing the only man who didnt see me as a freak or being insane. A man who saw me as his daughter and who was always there to make me free from fear. His love for art works was equally one that need not to be contended with. Drawing was part of me as a growing teenager. Never a dull moment whenever i find myself engaged in it. I normally whisper into my mother's ear whenever i had the chance to that I miss my father. Left with no other option, she will just reassure me that everything will be fine in no time. This particular statement whenever she says such words to me seemed Ironical because the "no time" my mother always uses never came or seemed to come at a slow pace. Most times i will have to communicate with my drawings, rather than talk about anything. I drew mostly the things my father valued as a way to keep his memories alive. He never played with nature.

* * *

Everything I knew about where i used to call my home will in no time turn out to be history to be remembered with memories alone the moment my mother alerted me of our permanent rellocation to Conda. A small town where my grandparents live. My mother had only been there a couple of times since my birth, they severally communicated through hand phones and letters often containing money. My brother and I had only visited Conda twice as well as i could remember. But now, it seemed to dawn on me that I wont just be gong to Conda to see my grandparents anylonger, but to make its streets my permanent home. Nothing bothered me much other than the thought of going down there to meet a whole lot of new faces in addition to the imaginary ones i had running in my head. This gave me room for serious concern.

The morning was beginning to grow cold, I shivered and pulled on a long-sleeved wollen under shirt next to my skin which got me uncomfortable after a while. I immediately pulled again, but this time, pulling the sleeves down to keep them loose around my arm. I put on two pairs of thick gray socks and finally completing the snow mans attire as wore a long boot to rap it all up and then headed for the living room where we had our luggage packed.

My mother had already set out a thick bean cake and a beef sandwich for us on the table next to a big thermos. She heated the milky tea in a small kettle, added four teaspoonfuls of glucose and poured the liquid into the thermos. She had always been commended by my father over the way she prepares her meals and the manner in which she equally serves it. He had never stopped talking about it. That aside though, she was simply a good cook. Everybody gave her credit for that. I cleaned up the dishes immediately we were done and we all headed for the car while my mother did the final lock up. She did that and handed over some set of keys to our next door neigbhour who she spoke with for a couple of minutes before she waved her goodbye with a hug. I didnt know what sort of arrangement she had with the person and why she handed over the keys. We still had most of our things in the house which we didnt part away with or make plans for to be brought over. Whether it was being sold off or has already been sold out, i hadnt the slightest clue. All I recall her saying a day before we left was for everyone to pack up everything that the person will be needing as we where not going to be coming back to the house for anything ******