Ayomiposi Faleye's middle name could be dubbed Insecurity and it would suit her perfectly. Battered by her mother's verbal abuses and her father's abandonment, she longs for something or someone that can fill that void and replace the uncertainty sh...
As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. --Psalms 42:1 (KJV)
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Posi was seated in her office as usual, penning down details for a new painting she had been given to do. It seemed the portrait painting side of her studio was beginning to pick up and she was glad to do it.
Her phone rang out with I am titanium playing out. Ever since she had made the decision to make Jesus the Lord over her life, she had been feeling, for lack of a better word, like she needed to forgive her parents. She was just too wound up to take the first step. It had even seemed like her mother had sensed her reluctance because she had also stopped calling.
She's calling now though. She dropped her drawing pen and took in a deep breath. The hour is here.
On the second ring, she picked up. "Hello."
She felt a pause and some seconds of silence before she heard, "Ayomiposi."
A single word. Her name.
Just the mention of her name on her mother's lips and she felt the weight of her thirty-three years in it.
Posi didn't know what to feel. She didn't know whether to be angry or sad or indifferent. So she kept quiet too.
"Hello, Ayomiposi. Are you there?" She heard her mum breath out. She had even forgotten what her mum's voice sounded like.
Her eyes glistening with tears threatening to fall, she replied, "Yes, ma. Good afternoon, ma."
"Good afternoon, my child. How are you? How have you been? How's your work? How's everything?" Her mother rushed on.
"I'm fine, ma. Everything is fine too. What is it, ma?"
Of course, her mother wasn't expecting her to be cordial, was she? It had been almost five years since they last had any form of interaction. She surely wasn't expecting her to be fine with her sudden reappearance, even if it was in Telecommunications Land. Not after everything.
She heard the sigh. "Yes. I mean, nothing, dear. I just wanted to ask if I could maybe see you. I need to talk to you. There are some things I need to tell you."
Things? What things? How I am not the child you wanted? Or how I am not good enough?
Be still, Daughter. Be still. There was that voice again.
Taking in a calming breath, she spoke. "Things? Okay, ma. How do we do it? I can't come home now. I have a lot of work currently."
"Actually, I'm in Lagos. I just came in yesterday. So, we can meet up somewhere. I mean, only if that's alright with you."
