Dear Taiwo,
Help me, the deed has already been done, but I don’t want my son, the light in my life, to be a part of a generational curse. How will I convince him to do the right thing? Unfortunately, though, he inherited his headiness from his father; a man he never knew as father, one who didn’t take care of him for one day.
Israel and I met when we just passed out of the university. We were both in the same school, mates, but didn’t study the same course. You know what it is like in a university with a large population. We met and began speaking to each other the day we went to pick our NYSC call up letters.
You know the way it is, when you have been posted far away from home, you quickly want to fraternise with others going your way and become instant friends. Israel and I were posted to Kaduna State. Things were good then, not in the days of Boko Haram and insurgency. We became friends immediately, although with others too and we began plans immediately as to how we would travel.
We had exchanged contacts, so we got together once or twice before our departure day and we got to know each other better, although, there was nothing like dating. We started dating when we were almost through with our service year.
He studied Accounting and was lucky to be retained by the firm he served with. I wasn’t that lucky, my parents even won’t want that for me, being the only girl. I came back down South and started my NYSC immediately. That same year, when Israel came home for Christmas celebration, my parents who then had known him asked if he desired to return down South, he answered in the affirmative and my father pressed some buttons and he was able to get a good job in Lagos, where we all lived.
He wasn’t interested in a Masters’ degree, but he started taking all the short courses in Accounting and we were both doing well. He proposed marriage to me and I accepted. I have met his parents several times before then and we had a cordial relationship, until we announced our intentions to get married.
All the while, I remained a virgin, because right from while I was a young girl, I had resolved to allow my husband deflower me and I allowed Israel to take my pride the day he proposed to me, which incidentally was my birthday. Little did we know that his parents will raise an objection?
They had no other reason, but the fact that I am not from their place, I am from Ekiti State, while they are from Kogi State. There was nothing people who knew us did not say, but they refused, especially his mother, who wouldn’t even hear of it.
His father had a change of heart when he learnt that I was carrying Israel’s baby, and also the fact that his son deflowered me, but his mother wouldn’t hear of it. It became so much an issue that I became confused and sad. I became a shadow of myself. At a stage, I considered terminating the pregnancy, but it was quite advanced in months by then, I was four months gone by then and almost lost my life.
During this troubled period, Israel’s father who was the only friend I had in their family died. After his demise, his uncle who also did not agree with his mother couldn’t do much to convince Israel’s mother, so we could get married.
Israel, himself didn’t help issues when he started dating his mother’s friend’s daughter, the lady his mother had wanted him to marry from the onset.
When I learnt about this and my parents found out, they advised me to forget about him. They understood that it was not easy for me; I really appreciated their support and prayers during this time. How I wished, my father were alive now to help convince his best friend; that was what he called Israel and that was what they remained until he died, because he died in his arms.
My father had been ill for some years; even the years Femi; my son and I were in the United Kingdom, he however, requested that we pay him a visit; we did and he died while hugging my son, the very day we came home.
My trip to the United Kingdom with my son was facilitated by my uncles, especially my father’s younger brother who had lived and established a successful business in Scotland. He came in when years after Israel’s betrayal, I refused to remarry or have anything to do with men. I however, concentrated on developing myself and career. This was not enough for my parents and family; my son was 11, then, they decided a change of environment would help me. That was how my son and I relocated to the UK.
I am really blessed, because, my son turned out well. He studied and became a consultant surgeon. I didn’t re-marry; I saw no reason to. Watching him grow up into a man after God’s heart was enough for me.
To the glory of God, when it was time for him to get married, he did not only find his missing rib, by the grace of God, the Lord gave me a daughter through him; as Semipe, his wife is the daughter or another child I never had. I can beat my chest and say that, the Lord has done me well. What more would I ask for; I have been blessed with four grand children, a set of twins twice.
At a point, during his growing up years, I had no choice but to tell him about his paternity, more so because he bears my surname. As usual, even at that age he took his father’s rejection with the same level headedness he always handled issues with. He promised to make me proud and the Lord helped him.
We had to return home to Nigeria; we did and we were able to settle down with troubles with the help of everyone surrounding us. Femi started his own practice, partnered by his wife who happens to be a gynecologist and his cousin; my uncle’s son who is a general practitioner. They were doing well.
I did not live with them, although Semipe would have wanted that, but I had to live with and care for my mother because my elder brothers were married with their own families, it is just right that I lived with her.
On this particular day, Semipe stopped by on her way from the hospital, she looked worried and I knew immediately that something was wrong with her. She couldn’t have quarreled with Israel and looked so worried, because although, they normally have their disagreements, but I have never had to resolve anything for them, they loved and understand each other.
Eventually, she settled down and told me her worries. She said a patient was brought into the hospital in a really bad state the previous day. He had a motor accident which affected his legs. He was not properly taken care of at the initial stage and his legs are very bad and could need amputation.
The man who brought him was ready to spend whatever cash is required, but Israel has refused to even touch him. I asked why immediately, because I know his passion for his job and his patients.
It took her some time to answer; she finally did and told me that the man in question is Femi’s father. I was shocked and asked how she knew that. She described the uncanny resemblance which forced my son and others in the hospital to ask the man about his history.
Through this, they were able to find out who he is and without mincing words, Femi told him and his nephew who brought him into the hospital who he is and that he will not treat him. He advised that they should take him to another hospital.
Semipe, told my mother and I that every one pleaded with my son, but he has refused to even prescribe drugs for the man. I know what he is like when he is in this mood. I immediately followed Semipe to the hospital and I pleaded with my son, but he still insisted that his father be taken to another hospital.
I have forgiven Israel completely and I wish my son would too. His life is enough trial for him as he lived a messed up life. He eventually married the lady his mother wanted him to marry; had children but there was no peace. His wife left him after his accident with almost all he had worked for and that was why he couldn’t take proper care of his legs.
His nephew, who he had helped along the line, heard his story and came to his rescue. To crown it all, his mother is still alive and she has also seen my son; what more will I ask of God? How do I convince my son to do this for me and complete my joy? I need urgent suggestions and advise. Thank you.
This a story for the ages. Life is a wheel that keep turning.