IF WE EVER PART

LIVING OR LEAVING?

The words of a departing soul in anguish and agony.
“Take heed to my words oh daughter of my son. Once you become of age and wish to have a lifetime partner, thou shall remember this. With all the ambition and vision that you have, choosing the wrong person will reduce your lifespan.

I’m now reaping the fruits of my lack of information. I was born again forty-eight years ago.
Whilst in campus so many a preaching were made. To some extent, I would feel it was the highest degree of repetition since every invited preacher would always mention something about relationships, dating, and marriage. To a certain level, I would pay a deaf Ear in the mentality that these people were trying to conform our lives’ patterns to suit theirs hence this couldn’t make any sense to me. Every other time I would get pissed off by the sentiment that” In your pursuit to identifying a life partner, take heed to identify one who’s born again. “‘Men that are born again are so boring”, I would say. There are these other men that are not born again but are very good guys. They’re too caring and very loving.

I met Chris in my second year and struck a relationship that got us married immediately after my fourth year at Campus. Chris used to get drunk every Friday until he would spend the night on the road to be picked up by any good Samaritan or better still pick himself up in the morning. I couldn’t fail to question his character and behavior which he narrated as a “youth thing” and that in future he can’t forget about his responsibility as a parent in this case. Due to that “good men mentality,” I had to “Understand ” and forgive his habit. I even was damn blinded in not only my eyes but also my mind so that I forgot that they say “habit is next to nature “.

Fifteen years after we got married life had sincerely declared war against my little knowledge. I would cry all night with no one to lay a shoulder on. I would soak my pillow with tears and later rise to wipe them off myself. Your late Grandpa would drink the father to his granddaughter’s school fees such that all I could do is looking for some hard earned money to pay for his fee. That is how he went through his education but thank God he managed despite the so many challenges.

Chris was not poor but alcohol had made him as poor as the church mouse.
He once was involved in an affair with a king’s daughter. Personally, I had gotten it all as rumors that I couldn’t believe until his death notice was brought to me on the 7.00 pm news. He died on a Plane Crash whose ticket had been paid by that very king’s daughter. Before he left home that morning he had informed me that he would be attending a conference at the county headquarters. Was that the case?

I’m now dying of ulcers and pressure. Something that’s unheard of even in my father’s family lineage. Oh, daughter to my only son! It’s like a taboo. No one is very much willing to be associated with me. I’m now being referred to as an outcast. Are these not the consequences of my wrong choice?

See, my narration may have not revealed much to you. Allow me to reveal this to you. You have heard of the famous “FLYING CHRISTOGRAPHY”.This is a movement that got so many people rich. It comprised of clubs and NGO’S where the youth would participate and earn from. It was argued to be closely matching the Christ-like character bearing fruits. Fact is, There is this man by the name “Christopher Flyris ” who had gotten into the government’s finance ministry. It wasn’t long before this ministry began. Only to be discovered of how he had robbed the government. He was awarded ten years imprisonment after payment of sh. 150,000 fine. He had so many buildings in the city headquarters which were all rendered as the government property. Today that very movement is unheard of. This is the man I have been talking about. He’s the father to your father. Chris, the shortcut to Christopher Flyris

Oh, daughter to my only son… It’s true I’m leaving. Leaving to a world of no return. I don’t claim to have fought a good fight. But I have finished the race. Good men are all over. I hear nowadays there are even sponsors. If this findest you well, then let this find its position in your heart. It doesn’t matter how long you live. What matters is how you lived. What did you leave behind? A warning story to be narrated to your offspring? A sad story of how people prayed for your comeback? A real presentation of how hell exactly shall be faced? You can’t change your past, but can write down your story as the question remains in mind, in your absence, who will crave for your presence? Will you be living in what you left behind or you will be leaving behind tragedies? Despite the awkwardness of my life, I believe in eternity, I believe in the promised paradise. There we shall meet. We shall…sh..sh.. Sśs…”(she breathed her last)
©MirieDanie
Love and life