After thirteen years, Araromi Olamide returns to his hometown in Ibudun with his father, Biyi, and twin sister, Olamipo, to spend Christmas.
The experience takes a dramatic turn when he meets a beautiful new girl. Like most things, it starts out w...
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I wished I could faint, die, run, or something...something that could just make me disappear and not have a word with my father that night. But rather, my eyes widened at the sight of him, I could feel my blood pumping faster than normal, and my body went from hot to cold in seconds. Those weren't signs of fainting but of fear.
“Why do you have soup or palm...oil all over your clothes?” he asked, before walking into the room, closer to where Olamipo and I sat. “Or is that?...wait, are you bleeding? What is going on? SOMEONE BETTER START TALKING?”
His voice struck a nerve in us, me especially, that made our bodies shake. My eyes met Olamipo's, gave her that should-I-tell-him look, even though she didn't know what it was I didn't want to tell him. I hadn't told her anything as well. So, she returned a clueless look in response.
“So, no one is saying anything yeah?” he blared again.
A pang of guilt flashed through my mind remembering how my dad had warned me but...but I was too wise. I was that Lagos boy that thought could handle anything that came at me in a small town. I was King Solomon until reality dawned and I realized that if not for my nose, my dreads, and maybe my colour, I wouldn't have looked so different from Mister Bean.
“I-I-I... I emm...” I struggled to have the words come out of my mouth as if I had potatoes in my throat.
He cut me off before I could make a reasonable sentence, “Emm what? You better open your mouth and start talking.”
My voice quavered as I talked a blue streak of what happened in the woods. My dad leaned on the writing desk in the room with his arms crossed, as he listened.
My expectation was a big bang on either of my cheeks as he walked towards where I sat. Although, he had never hit us, not even in the slightest way. He always overlooked most of our wrongdoings but if he didn't let this one pass, I would totally understand. I was a jerk afterall.
Instead, he took me in his arms from where I sat, my head rested on his almost-potbellied stomach, then he patted my back with his flat palm.
“Did anyone else see you when you left the woods?” he asked, his voice tender.
“N-No,” I replied, with doubt. I wouldn't be sure if no one saw me exactly but the street was empty when I ran it...I guess.
“Asides Olamipo, did anyone see you when you entered the house?” he asked again, with the same tone.
“Emm. D...”
Olamipo interrupted quickly before I could talk, “There was nobody. I'm sure. I was the only one that saw him enter.”
We glanced at each other quickly and she gave that do-not-worry look. I understood she didn't want dad to know Dorcas was in the house at that late hour. It would have been another topic to talk about. Double wahala.
