A Dance with my Father

Ephesians 6:1 Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right.
2 Honour thy father and mother; (which is the first commandment with promise;)
3 That it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth.

Daddy, ma hle up to verse 4. I don”t wait for permission and I proceed…
4 And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.
Then mfgdojgdjkkhdss.
Morning devotion has ended.

I saddle my bag and hurry for seminary class (A daily religious class in my church for youth which started at 6am. ) and thence to school.
When we talk about domestic violence, many will tell us to shut up and stop being pampered. If we want to do our shouting, we should go and shout in the village. Maybe it is because we the city girls are doing outside gentility for long. Maybe it is because we don’t naked ourselves and sit in the middle of the streets and wail of been violated against. We brush our skirt and go.
I saw this video on my friend’s status yesterday. Not only the video sent shivers down my spine but her caption too. : She beats back her father for questioning her where she slept last night. Thank goodness she added back. I know someone will say she beats her dad for…the chinese whispers thing nu.
Asking her where she slept, does the belt have mouth? If yes, then the broom is answering the belt’s question. He Amega kple amega do go aah, ya wo kpona Amega hoho.

Mamle and Darley, I am bad with Maths. Can you provide us with the statistics of how many women have being killed in 2019 by close partners or family . Today I personally will not quote figures because many of you dispute figures.

I have read and studied about the power of stories. I proceed to tell a single paragraph in maybe my autobiography in the future. It didn’t end in my death.

That night I was watching an occasional movie with an occasional partner-in -vrime in our home. My brother  I mean. In our Single room home . Dad was there. He wasn’t sleeping actually. Volume was considerably low and we chatted low tones. Then landlord asked me to lower the volume. I lowered. After a few seconds, landlord asked me to lower it again. Before I could find any key on the laptop, I heard a resonding chorus in my head. It was early christmas but I swear that chorus sounded like it was strung from handel’s string. The son of the Landlord vexed. The only thing my okro mouth could say was: Ouch.
I lain in my 3 in 1 quietly. I began to reflect on the canes we had recieved in school. I wanted to do odeshieee. Tears began to flow as I reflected upon my comparable good life. Good student. Not promiscuous. Hmmm. I began to tear up silently. Not really from the pain. It was my deflated ego: Ooh me. Me? Alberta. Eei. Me? Me of all people? My daddy slapped me? Oooh enye aa?
When I took a mirror and saw the finger prints, I took a selfie and went to bed again. Ooh me? A whole me?
That passed with church meetings. You know the African culture. The older person is always right. It is frowned upon in my church but still Africans as local leaders. That day who apologised? I don’t know who reported that matter. As I said, City girls are good at managing reputation. I remember I confronted people who I guessed did the reporting. “Why did you tell my business?”

Later, another slap came from a different encounter. This time I retaliated. My hands are tiny. It might not hurt a fly but it was symbolic. I told him : “If you try again. I am going to hit you that hard and walk to Nima police station and report you for domestic violence.” I meant it that day as I mean it now.
Someone will say. Yes. If your dad doesn’t straighten you as a single father you would have turned worse. I guess he didn’t do his homework well when my mom was handing me over when I was 12. In terms of socialization. I haven’t changed much. It is in my gene. I am very choosy. I remember the first party I went, my mom forced me into a dress, gave me some coins and pushed me to go with my friends. She was like: “Yo. Go and chill small. When I was young. We used to go for dance.”
Even now, I can boogie only in a chair.
I am not the movie type. I can only sit through a really nice movie. For the whole of December I watched only one movie. I had data and I told myself: Ebei. It is Christmas. Watch some christmas movie. I watched 6 days to christmas. It wasn’t interesting as I thought. Hmmm. I went back to editing my pictures and going to parte after parte. Only one movie. He has not been home for two weeks now except for weekends. I come out of the room sometimes and my neighbours get surprised I have been home all day.
I started dating when I was 16. I didn’t gnash in my teens ooh. Now I am gnashing I don’t gerrit. After returning from Nigeria for one and half years, I told my dad I was going on a date with my boyfriend. I was then 21.  He mistook that information for permission and said no. That case became a supreme court.  I went to the date.
The deal is that; I have passed the age where both parents first gave birth to their first child. Wouldn’t you allow me to breath? Next month I turn 26. I have learned to breath alone over the years.
I commented recently on a friend’s post that when I am going out for a program, I tell my friends in case I am involved in an accident, my dead body can be found and buried. That is the only reason I feel tell obligated to tell someone where I am going and since my daddy can’t wrap his head around it, I will tell a friend.

Fast forward to when I completed my undergraduate studies, my daddy gave me a gift of cloth. From afar, it looked expensive than the 10 cedis Chinese two yard christmas fabric I bought this December but have not yet sewn. I didn’t take it. It is not like I don’t have want of clothes ooh. I have just one bathinh cloth. But I didn’t need it so I didn’t take it. The Chinese fabric koraa lies there. I have used the money to register for an UDEMY course I am yer to start.
Someone might say: You should have taken it, it was just a gesture of love and appreciation. Now you didn’t take it, you hurt his ego. He first hurt my ego by slapping his only daughter. Me. Alberta. I didn’t take it because I told myself: One day I might get married, and he is indirectly or directly going to tell my man, just slap her into submission and bribe her with a piece of cloth or phone or car keys.
I want him to directly or indirectly tell my husband: Herrr. Don’t touch her so you don’t loose her like I did.
Ooh yearh. Me and my daddy were an item. I called my step-dad “brother” because I had only one daddy. Now the love fire dims.
So Dear future husband, I am going to teach my daughters self-defense skills and they will memorize the numbers of two human rights security officials. You should learn to tslk with ylur daughters not at them. You should come to an agreed consensus instead of imposing especially when they enter tgeir teens and blossom. Respect your daughters.

2 Comments

  1. Wow! Couldn’t stop reading. Real life experience with great lessons to be learnt but hey, Mortty is a gentle soul 😀

    Like

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