Diary of a pastor’s son episode 20 – 21

Diary Of A Pastor’s Son

Episode 20

Written by: Frank The Writer

~ Femi’s POV ~

I was in the bathroom with my whole body shivering, while my father’s voice pierced through the whole house in shock at what I didn’t know who told him. Who is he talking to? I had pondered in,side the bathroom. Then, my mom also came out of her room.
“Kilode? What is it? What did Femi do?” she asked in one breath?
“So this boy has chosen to disgrace me and has sworn to drag this family’s name in the mud,” I heard my father say. He sounded bitter and upset.
“What has he done this time around?” Mom queried.

It was then I felt it must be about Biola’s pregnancy. Could it be she had issues with the abortion or what? I kept pondering about what my father was informed about over the phone.
I haven’t spoken with Biola ever since Pastor Ben told me to make sure she didn’t abort the baby.
Truth is, I actually didn’t want her to keep the baby. Yes, I wanted Biola to get rid of the baby because I knew the outcome would have so many consequences including my chances of going to University. Having a baby as a teenager was not part of my plans. So I refused to call Biola after the youth pastor told me to make sure she keeps the baby. I planned to call her after a few days and hopefully by then she must have gotten the pills like she talked about the other time. And by the time I meet Pastor Ben again, I’d tell him she already did the abortion before I was able to reach her. That was how I had it in my head.

“Can you imagine? Your sister just called me…”
“Imagine what? What did Bose say?” asked my mother
“Femi impregnated Biola and he has been living in this house with us,” my father finally broke the ugly news.

I became so cold like a fish. I couldn’t make a move while I stood there in,side the bathroom. My heart raced faster than Usain Bolt. I had several thoughts about my father’s next line of action and my whole being was in chaos.
“Ahhh! This boy has disgraced me,” stuttered my mom. I literally felt her words so deep in,side of me, and I felt I had truly disappointed them.
“Where is that boy?” my father thundered. And I could hear him push the dining table.
“Femiii..,” my mom called, stressing the last syllable. I could sense they were looking for me as I overhead their footsteps from one end to another.
“Agatha, where is Femi?” I heard my father ask.
“I think he is in the bathroom,” she announced. And I could feel my heart thudding against the ribs. As soon as I overheard footsteps approaching the bathroom, I quickly bolted the door and wore my shorts.

“Femi, will you open the door and get out of that place,” he yelled, causing my heart to pound faster. Yet I remained calm and quiet not until he started to bang on the door.
“Femi, If I break this door, you won’t like yourself,” my father added aloud.
“Femi, won’t you open the door?” came my mother’s voice.
“Please, daddy, I’m sorry. I’m a changed person now.” I finally broke the awkward silence. Tears trickled down my cheeks. I was sober and scared of the unknown. I knew what he could do to me if I eventually open the door.
“Femi, if I break this door, you’ll get it rough with me,” my father said and banged on the door.

I kept contemplating whether to open or let him do his worst. I felt breaking the door as he said was kind of a threat and a way of tricking me to unlock the old wooden door. Not until I felt the weight of the door on my forehead. Yes, he eventually pushed the door so hærd with his weight and it got loosened from the bolt. I couldn’t help but yell in pain as soon as the door hit my head. This was happening around 11 pm. The compound was as quiet as a graveyard. Only the sound of a generator from the next building was the only sound that filled the air.

My father came in and pounced on me. He slapped me hærd on the face. He hit my head and every other place he could get hold of. I tried to run but he caught me in my shorts and continued hitting me so hærd. “Please, daddy please…” I cried. Yet he was never moved by my tears and pleading. Despite my mom’s intervention and pleads, he went on till he saw blood gushing out from my mouth and face.
“This is just the beginning,” he said, then walked out of the bathroom.
“And this is the person you want us to send to the University? Eh? So he would go there and become the second version of Solomon in the Bible,” he turned to my mom who stood there motionless.
“Get ready to start working because you’ll soon father a child,” he said. He then reached his room, went in, and slammed the door.
I stood outside the bathroom, tears, and blood rolling down my cheeks at the same time. Subconsciously, I tasted my blood, and my tears tasted salty.

“Femi, how could you?” my mom queried

Silence.

“So this is all about you staying back in Ibadan?” she yelled.

“Yes. That’s it! He wanted to stay there and continue his atrocities with Biola.” My father s¢ræmed from his room.

I knew Agatha and Shola were awake but they couldn’t come out of the room. My mom went on to rebuke and say all manner of things that made me feel worthless. She added jocularly that she would have to cut my pen!s off.

~ Biola’s POV ~

Morning sickness came pretty quickly, and I began to feel tired all the time. I felt so bad knowing I was always sleeping all day. It was Aramide who did almost all the house chores. It was my first time being pregnant and it knocked me down beyond my expectation.
Aunty Bose wouldn’t like to see me idling around, doing absolutely nothing. I knew she badly wished they call off the strike, so I could just go back to school and leave her husband’s house. It was through her, that my brother, Gbenga found out I was pregnant.

So, one Sunday evening, Gbenga visited us. He was so disappointed in me. He literally said I was stupid for spreading my legs for Femi. At a time, I didn’t know if he actually came to insult me or to see how I was coping with my first pregnancy.

Gbenga went ahead to remind me we had no mother again and my father in the village would barely show any form of financial support if at all I have any hope of getting support from him. Actually, we came from a polygamous family and my late mother happened to be the first wife. My stepmother and his children lived with my father in the village. My brother went on to say he regretted ever allowing Femi and I in his apartment the day we came to see him. He presumed that was the day Femi must have slept with me. I barely said anything to him and he was so pissed off at what I had put myself into. Gbenga was one of my brothers who had been supportive financially in my school and then he felt disgruntled.

****

The next three we were as rough, with my Aunty Bose rarely talking to me, despite her extroverted, charismatic nature. I began to feel really odd. I would burst out in tears at random times. I was depressed for being such a disappointment to everyone around me. Yet I hung on, determined to carry my cross.
One Monday morning, I was in the toilet when I discovered tiny s₱0ts of blood on my toilet paper. I didn’t know what it means and I didn’t know what to do. I’ve seen enough movies to understand the seriousness of bleeding while pregnant.
I rushed out and met Aunty Bose in the kitchen. I told her and waited to hear her say some nasty words, or perhaps, scold me but she didn’t. I could only see the shock on her face. I’ll never forget her face that very day. She told me to get dressed and we quickly went to the hospital.

Diary Of A Pastor’s Son

Episode 21

Written by: Frank The Writer

~Biola’s POV ~

We got to the hospital; a private hospital in Ibadan. We waited a long time before we saw the doctor. Then I got my very first sonogram. I found out I was actually two months along. More disappointment fell on Aunty Bose’s face. The doctor also told us I wasn’t miscarrying and I needed to go home and have a good rest. He said the bleeding was due to the fact I was always worried and lost in thought. He further advised and encouraged me to avoid any form of stress, be it mental or physical stress. After describing a medication, Aunty Bose settled the bill and we left later in the evening.

~ Femi’s POV ~

The following day, I fell ill from the beating I got from my father. My face got swollen and with a few bruises. Yet my father seemed unconcerned and unbothered when he saw my face. Thank God for my mom who was caring enough to get some pain reliever and other drugs for me at the nearby chemist. I used them and the pains subsided.

For good two days, I was indoors, and never had any reason to come outside. I was supposed to attend the second youth program but I couldn’t go anywhere. During that period of two days, my father barely said anything to me. All he kept saying was, that I should just forget about going to the university and go look for work that would enable me to take care of my unborn baby. He equally said that my nonchalant attitude had only found a way to fire an arrow in his heart. He said each time he preached and rebuked people about premarital s-× and its likes, he always heard a voice that reminds him of his son at home. My father was of the notion that the devil was using me to fight him and his ministry, and I think that was more reason he didn’t take it lightly with me.

Seeing me every day in the house was something I knew he wished he could avoid. I knew I irritated him so much that he wanted me to go somewhere else after that incident. Instead of giving me support to survive through the predicament I found myself in, he made it worse by inflicting me with horrible words.
He also had this feeling that he failed as a father and a pastor for not raising me the way I should have followed.
My mom on the other hand was the opposite. She made me feel that l could still be a better person if I change my ways. And my father felt she was only pampering me despite what I have done.

I tried reaching Biola but she wasn’t taking my calls and she wasn’t replying to my WhatsApp texts too. I needed to know how she was coping with the pregnancy but she was ignoring me. I guess she must be regretting her silly actions with me.

One night after dinner, my father turned to me and asked, “Femi, what’s your plan with Biola? How do you both intend to raise your baby?” I was mute and didn’t reply to him. I was rather offended by his question. I wasn’t the first person to be in such a predicament, so why make me feel like I was the worst person ever? I pondered. I wish I could say it to him. I wish I could say a lot of things but that would only result in another serious beating.

“My major concern is your sister, Bose,” he turned to my mother.
“You think Biola would be a disturbance to her?”
“Yes. Why won’t she? A pregnant woman would always behave like one, so…”
“But I thought the strike has been called off the day before yesterday,” said my mother.
“Yes, I heard so. I tried reaching Biola but she’s not picking up my calls,” I finally spoke.

“Poor girl. Do you expect her to pick before? You have almost rendered her dreams…”
“Rendered her dreams what? Why won’t she pick? Did Femi force her? Did he rape her?” my mother interrupted.
“Like mother like son. I have always known you will support him,” my father said, his eyes w¡dened.

“I never supported Femi nor Biola. I sincerely do not like how you have been going about with the whole issue. The deed has been done. All we need now is a solution and how to support the two of them in the way we could. How long do you want to keep making him feel rejected?” asked my mom. She sounded like she was sobbing and I felt my belly churn.

“And you think Femi deserves all your pampering? He doesn’t deserve it any bit. I won’t stop making him feel this way. Who knows, tomorrow, we might come back and hear that either Agatha or Bukola is pregnant for him,” my father sad to my discomfort.
“God forbid!” my mom replied speedily.
“God will only forbid if you spare the rod and spoil the child,” he said and went in,side his room.

I was just calm. My fingers crossed, with lots of thoughts going through my head. I wished I could just fly out of the house and never have any reason to return. I needed somewhere I could find peace. I badly wanted to leave the house for my father and have no reason to ever come back.

~ Biola’s POV ~

Finally, Aunty Bose’s prayer was answered. The strike was eventually called off. It was time to return to Lagos State Polytechnic and I wasn’t excited to go. Not even a bit. I wished the strike continued for long till I was put to bed.
Two weeks were gone and I didn’t feel like resuming. I got calls from my friends and coursemates, asking when I’d be back to school. I kept telling them anytime soon. It was Seyi who kept calling me regularly. She knew me to be that serious student who normally returns to school on time and rarely misses classes. Each time she asked if everything was fine, I’d tell her yes.

One day, I got a call from an unknown number, and it happened to be Femi’s mother. I wouldn’t have answered if I knew she was the one calling, but it turned out she actually meant well to me, unlike Femi’s father who called days ago and made me feel worthless. Sometimes, whenever I was in my solitary confinement, his words came ringing in my head and I felt so bad.

Well, Femi’s mother was more concerned about my health like a mother. She never in a way sounded harsh or rude over the phone. She was just positive and she went straight to the point about why she called. Her major concern was how I would cope with school and pregnancy. I did make her understand I was in my second year in Poly and after my exams, I’d go on one year of Industrial Training before thinking about school again, that’s if I’d still like to continue.

“You’ll,” she said. She went on to encourage me to stay positive and never allow it to weigh me down. She said she would send some money to my account later, so I’d use it to get some stuff before going back to school. She said I should feel free to call her if I have any challenges in school. And for the first time in a long time, I felt so relieved. I couldn’t thank her enough for her support and words of encouragement. She gave me hope and I was glad I answered her call.

“I’m sure you must have learned your lessons and I wouldn’t want you to repeat this in the nearest future,” she said. I replied in the positive.
“So send me your account details later in the day,” she said.
“Alright, ma.”
“And don’t forget to register for antenatal when you get back to school.”
“I won’t forget.”
She ended the call. I heaved a big sigh of relief. I went in and started arranging my clothes.

To be continued..
©Frank The Writer
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