Story: True Life Story Of An Addict

8 years ago

Story: True Life Story Of An Addict

Janet: I am so sorry sir. But you’ve never talked about her. I only know Deola.

Me: Yes. I kept her secret because I felt that’s the way to protect her. I loved her so much that I can’t speak of her like I do others. I guess that’s how my head works sometimes.

Janet: Hmmmm. What a life! What are you going to do now?

Me: I don’t know Janet.

Janet: But that Deola is wicked ooo. Because of ordinary guy? Sorry I said that. What I mean is, why do this heinous act because a guy cheated on you? What should a girl like me do then? Thank God you know my story.

Me: Can we stop this now. Don’t talk about it anymore please.

Janet: Ok sir. Have you eaten?

Me:: I am ok. I just needed someone to talk to before my sister arrives.

Janet: Oh, your sister is coming here?

Me: Yes, she is.

Janet: That’s better o cos, it’s not advisable you stay home alone with what had just happened.

Me: I know right.

I managed to drink a bottle of Malt and a tin of Peak Milk as suggested by Janet cos of the blood I lost. The effect of which caused dizziness. I la!d my head on the chair to sleep while Janet sat there and watch on.

About 30mins or more, my sister called me,

Sister: I am at the round about ooo.

Me: Ok ma. What are you wearing?

Sister: A brown ankara gown.

Me: Ok. I will send someone to come pick you ma.

Sister: Ok.

I turned to Janet and begged her to go help me fetch my sister. I gave her the description of the person she’s going to fecth and off she went.

Sister: Ha! Bawo lo se sele (how did it happened)?

Me: Bi a se ri ni yen oo (I can’t explain it, it just happened).

Sister: Pele. Ki lo wa se e lowo? (Sorry. What happened to your hand).

Me: Mo subu ni (I fell down).

Janet screamed out to counter my reply,

Janet: Iro ni oo. Obinrin kan lo gun lobe lowo ooo (It’s a lie. A woman stabbed his hand).

Sister: Mo gbe. Se eyi to ku ni abi elomi? (I am done with! Do you mean the girl that just died did this or someone else).

Janet: Obinrin mi ni. Nigba to gbo pe Uncle Femi n date elomi leyin ohun, lo ba gun won lobe (It’s another girl. When she heard that Femi cheated on her, she stabbed him).

Sister: Iru aye-ka-ye wo le leyi? Nibo lo ti ri iwa palapala yi? (What kind of life are you leaving? From whom have you learned such behaviour?).

She turned to Janet and asked,

Bawo ni iwo se je si? Se o n fe iwo naa ni? (Who are you to him? Is he dating you too?).

Janet: Iro ooo. Ore lasan lawa mejeji oo (Noo. We’re just friends).

While this argument was going on, I became so furious with Janet. Who send her message? I brought her in to give me solace, not tear me apart. My sister rained all manner of abuse on me, calling me names that I can’t write her cos she was mad at me for having the gut to date 2 women at a time. She almost slapped me.

I have known my sister as my mother since we lost our mum. I mean, she has been everything to me. There is nothing I wanna do that I don’t tell her, except if I wanna flirt with women, which she detest so so much. Thanks to her, I was a very brilliant chap in both my primary and secondary school days. She would entice and intimidate me with gifts, saying in her own words,

“If you’re among the first 3 positions in your class, then I will buy you the latest canvas and jeans. But if you come first, I will buy you a new bag, new exercise books, story books and all your text books.”

These promises motivated me to study hard and with God’s grace, I was always roaming between 1st, 2nd or 3rd positions in my class. She made me love my books, showed me how best one can dig deep into oneself and become the best. She was the very first person from who I heard this statement,

“What is worth doing, is worth doing well.”

And since then, I never settled for less. I tried as much as I can to put all of myself into everything I do; it may not be perfect or the best, but I try to be better.

So, when she speaks, I dare not reply. I loved her and as much as I revered her. She commanded so much loyalty from me. So, whatever I know she’s not gonna be happy with, I don’t tell her. So, her rage was expected…and I did absorbed it as long as it got.

Janet covered her face in shame when my sister descended on me with her bulldozing* words. When she couldn’t bear it anymore, she stood and said,

Janet: E je ki emi ma lo ma. Customer n duro de mi (Let me start going ma. One of my customers is waiting for me).

Sister: O se jare omo gidi. Olorun a wa pelu e. Awon obi e o ni foju sukun e. O se. (You’re a good child. God bless you. May your parent never cry over you. Thank you so much).

Voom! She left…and my sister went back to her backlashing. I endured it, I absorbed it. I dare not complain. I am paying for my sisns and I must eat the fruit alone.

For almost 2hrs, she was still talking. She would pause for some minutes and then, if I make any sound or body movement, she would continue. This went on until I begged her,

Me: E ma binu. E dariji me. (I’m sorry. Please forgive me).

She kept quiet for a while, and then spoke,

Sister: My prayer has always been that none my brothers will be like our father when it comes to women. You know what we went through with him. So it hurts me to see that you are already walking his path.

Me: I am sorry ma. I am so sorry.

Sister: Where is that girl now?

Me: She’s in the mortuary, ma.

Sister: No. I mean the one that stabbed you.

Me: I don’t know where she is…and I don’t want to know.

Sister: Well, sorry to disappoint you. I want to see her. Call her for me now. I want to see the face of the girl who did this to my brother.

Me: I can’t call her oo I’ve decided against talking to her again.

Sister: Are you nut? I said I want to talk to someone and you’re telling me rubbish. Give me the phone number if you can’t call her.

I dialed Deola’s number with my sister’s phone and gave it back to her. The following ensued,

Deola: Hello.

Sister: Hello oo. Are you Deola?

Deola: Yes…and who is this please?

Sister: Ok. I am Femi’s sister. My dear, I beg you in the name of God, and upon the honour of your father and mother, I want to see you today in Femi’s house.

Deola: Good evening ma (It was around past 4pm already). Ma, I don’t think that will be possible. I can’t enter Femi’s house again.

Sister: My dear, you will come. I am a woman like you. If you don’t come here then we will have to come to your house.

Deola: There is no need for that ma. Ok I will come. Give me 20mins.

Sister: Thank you, I will be waiting.

My sister was a very tough and pragmatic woman. I think I took after her when it comes to getting things done any way possible…with an element of urgency sliced into it.

Me: E ba ti ma pe now. O ma wa fa wahala nibi ni oo (You shouldn’t have called her ma. She’ll come raise hell here again).

Sister: Won bi metala e da. Fa wahala nibo? (She dare not. Raise hell where?).

Me: I am just saying.

Sister: You better keep that your stinking mouth shut before I shut it for you now. Idiot. Take these bags inside for me joor, olori nla (Big head).

(I will forever miss you my glamazon, my sister, my friend).

She readjusted herself on the chair, shaking her legs wittingly and sighing at intervals with her head bowed. I became so scared cos I know what she can do. I remembered when I was about 11yrs of age how she rescued me from the claws of one guy like that in our house. She confronted that guy and they started to fight. The guy broke a coke bottle on her head but she never stopped. She held him tightly until she was separated from him, earning her a huge applause and respect till we moved out of that house. That flash into the memory lane scared me. I hope she will be calm and not cause another wahala for me.

Eventually, Deola came. She knocked on the door and my sister opened up for her,

Sister: Yes?

Deola: Good evening ma. I am Deola.

Sister: Oh, welcome. Please come inside.

She moved aside for Deola to come in. When she saw me and my swollen hand, a sense of guilt struck her, and a sign of regret laced her face.

Sister: Please sit down my dear.

Deola: (With a shaky and sober voice)Thank you ma. How was your journey?

Sister: It was fine. Thank God.

After allowing her relax for like 5 minutes, she cleared her throat and vomitted these words,

Sister: My dear, the reason I called you is very simple. To start with, going by your name, it seems to me that you’re a yoruba girl. Is that right?

Deola: Yes ma.

Sister: Good. Listen to me carefully. No woman, I repeat, no woman deserves to be cheated on, no matter how arrogant or unsubmissive she is. I will definitely be angry too if my husband cheats on me – which I doubt he’ll ever do. A woman deserves to be respected, protected, loved and honoured by her man. It is just sad that we don’t have such men in a abundance these days anymore. It takes only the grace of God for a lady to find a faithful man that will love her for who she is. Even my brother here is not that man. He’s silly and foolish to have cheated on you. I have scolded him before you came, and on his behalf, I apologise.

Deola: Don’t ma. In fact, I should be the….

Sister: I have not finished!

Deola: Sorry ma.

Sister: (She sighed and continued). However, there is no moral justification, no amount of abuse suffered that should make a woman raise her hand to attack her man, let alone using life-threatening objects on him. How dare you stab Femi? For what? Bi okunrin ba ko ni, okunrin la n fe now (If a man jilts you, another will come). Why put your life at risk because of a man? He told me you almost throw yourself out of the car on speed. Are you that desperate? What if he had allowed you? You would’ve ended up wasting your precious life just because a man cheated on you. I am not saying he is right to have done that but, that’s how men have become these days. What if you have succeeded in stabbing him on his face? You want me to come and meet a one-eyed brother? God forbid! You would have been justified if..