Uncle Taiwo and my mum were twins…they were orphans as at the time I was old enough to know I didn’t have grandparents.
He has always been there for me, for
as long as I can remember. I must have become his responsibility right around
the time my mum took ill and was hospitalized.
I moved in with him and his wonderful
wife before I was 8 years old…after my mum died from the strange illness.
I never really knew my father; he
had traveled abroad before my mum realized she was pregnant.
They were dating, back then but he
didn’t inform my mum of his travel plans. She had gone to break the pregnancy news
to him and was shocked to discover he left the country a few days before her
visit.
Every effort to locate his family
members fell through…all my mum knew about him was that he came from the old Bendel
state to work in Lagos and they met at Kingsway, where my mum worked.
They had only been dating for less
than a year, and she had not met any member of his family members, when this
happened. His friends that could help quickly dissociated themselves from the
drama and wouldn’t give any information.
I was told that my mum contemplated
an abortion but Uncle Taiwo was vehemently against it…and had to promise he
would take care of and raise the child if necessary.
He used to tell me he did that
because he was scared of losing the only family he had and also considered the
baby an addition to their frail clan.
All my mum had for memory, apart
from me, was a somewhat blurry picture she and my dad had taken together; at
the Bar Beach, with one of those vintage Polaroid cameras that printed pictures
instantly…I still have the picture.
This same Uncle Taiwo, after my
mum’s death, took on the role of both parents; he sponsored me through school
and even threw a big wedding for me.
His wife, Auntie Titi, would have passed
for my mother…reincarnated, if only she was born after my mum’s death.
I call her mom because that’s
exactly who and what she has been to me. She never for once made me feel like I
was not one of her own. As nice as my uncle was, she was twice as nice and kind
to me.
I never bore my father’s last name,
I kept my mum’s maiden name which made a lot of people, that we got to know
later, believe I was Uncle Taiwo’s first daughter and of course, I look so much
like him.
My mind took a detour and I imagined
how devastating this news would be for my dear Auntie Titi. This new route plunged
me into a place of deep darkness and emptiness.
She also had an idea of what I had
been going through but you already know - I still kept some details from her.
The doctor returned and that was
enough to get my attention. He asked to speak with my uncle in his office and
they went in together. Uncle Taiwo wanted Pastor Austin to come with them so
they left me to continue on my mind journey.
Back to my biological father, he
later reached out about 12 years after my mum passed; he found out from one of
his old friends that he had a daughter and wanted to reconcile.
For me, it was too late…I had shut
that door and never wanted to open it again. Uncle Taiwo spoke with him a few
times but I never did…he tried to convince me to forgive him but I didn’t want
to hear it and he didn’t force it.It was, however, a sad day…when I finally decided to call my dad. I had given my life to Christ and learnt about forgiveness. Unfortunately, my dad had died a week before my call…I cried my eyes out. It was not because I wanted to bond with him but because I rejected him, I rejected his plea for forgiveness and I never got another chance to fix it.
It hurt even more, when I was told
his only regret in life was that he never made up with me and he died mumbling
that, with tears in his eyes.
I was the only child he had because
he married a white lady that didn’t want children. They didn’t bring his body
home, so I never got to see him or where he was buried. That experience transformed
my stubborn heart and taught me patience and gentleness.
Before then I was always angry at
men (except for Uncle Taiwo and his two sons) and never wanted anything to do
with any guy. If a guy smiled at me, he would get a real tongue lashing.
Back in Senior Secondary School,
there was a boy that told other students he had kissed me;
the rumor got to me and you would think I caught him putting poison in my food, the way I
reacted. There was no derogatory word in the dictionary that I didn’t call him;
I even went as far as slapping him in front of the whole class…a boy almost
twice my size. I’m sure he would have beaten me blue black but it was obvious I
didn’t care and the fact that he lied must have held him back.
I got into fights a lot and it was
always with boys; at school, in our neighborhood, even at our church. There was
a time I had to change school to avoid expulsion.
Uncle Taiwo used to call me
Queen Debra (a popular female wrestler back then) and coincidentally, my middle
name is Deborah.
Auntie Titi always advised me to
calm down, she would say something like “If you close your eyes because you do
not want to watch the evil people’s procession...you may miss the good people’s
parade” but my motto was “Don’t talk to me, don’t smile at me, I don’t want to
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