Kathrine: I’m An Orphan But I Won’t Do It – Episode 3
“I was very comfortable living with Jennifer, my course mate back in college. She was very nice and kind to me, and we never quààrreled for a day.”
“She made me feel at home, and in fact, she paid me more than the rest of the cooks who worked in her mini restaurant. She treated me like her own sister.”
“Due to my condition at the time, and the fact that I had just experienced a very túrbúléñt situation, I never paid too much attention to the real sóúrce of Jennifer’s wéàlth.”
“She always came home làte from work, at about 10 pm every day. I had thought it was the nature of her work, until I decided to keep my eyes peeled and carry out some investígations.”
“I asked my colleagues a few questions in her restaurant where I was working and discovered that, aside from owning a restaurant and working with the góvérñméñt as a public relations officer, Jenner’s real source of income was from her súgàr dàddiies.”
“Then I knew why she always came home late. I worked for 3 more months, saved up, gave her some flímsy excúses, and left for good.”
“I never wanted her to influence me négàtíívely, especially my unborn child. Though I came from a home where móñéy controlled everything, I vowed to create one where integrity and honesty controlled everything.”
“Kathrine, my angel, I cannot tell you everything with ink and paper, but hold onto this little story of mine and become the mother I’ve always dreamt to be.”
“I had a dream, but the sçórchíñg hands of fàté would fàíl me. Use this 500,000 naira and go to school. I know it won’t be enough, but I pray that God will make a way for you. Go, my angel, make Mama proud. I believe in you, I love you.”
“Yours forever, PRISCILLIA…”
I çríéd, çríéd, and çríéd…
The letter became completely wét, not with water but with my téàrs.
“Nooooooo!’ I sçréàméd…
It was as if she never diied a month ago but right there in my presence. I could feel her, I could see her, I could even touch her. The feelings of nostalgia felt so real.
I crííed that morning until my éyés became swólléñ, and my sight became blúrry. I lóst my voice in the multitude of scréàms, lóst my appetite, and crííed throughout the day.
I no longer had the strength to clean the house, and I lay right there on the floor, sobbing, rolling, and gróàníng from dusk till dawn; I was a thin line away from deeath.
I swam in the pool of my own téàrs, throwing a bucket-full of “why” to Gód.
I said, “Why me? Just tell me why? What did I do to deserve this? When did it become a críímé to be a good mother? Why did you let my Móm go through so much pàííñ despite bearing your name?”
“Óóóóóh Gód! Pléàse tell me why?”
I thought of çómmííttíñg súííçíídé…
Yes! I just wanted to éñd it right there because, for cryíñg out loud, of what use was I still alííve when I had ñó fàthér, ñó bróthér, and ñó móthér?
Why should I lííve? Why should I even try to suççééd in lífe when the people who should clap for me and rejoice with me when I finally succeed are ñó móré?
As I lay on the floor, fàmííshéd and frús+ra+éd, trying to find reasons why I should lííve past that Súñday, I heard footsteps heading towards my door.
I knew it was Sarah, my colleague at the hótél where I worked, whom I had asked to come squat with me for the meantime.
If not Sarah, not even a housefly would come to check on me because I was a lóñély gírl, living in a lóñély wórld, and I just lóst the only persóñ who made me feel whole; My Móm.
Seeing that Sarah was fast approaching, I managed to stand up and receive her. She already knew my Móm was gone, so I never needed to pretéñd I wasn’t cryííñg.
I opened the door, hoping I had found someone who might help me answer the big question; “why should I lííve past that Sunday?”
To be continued ✍️