THE YEAR 2014 pt3
It was like every other day; I woke up not incredibly excited about anything, had nothing much to do, and had a lazy day. Like every other Tuesday, I looked forward to my group Bible study, which is always an experience, but I had no idea that I was about to be crushed like never before.
It really was a defining year for me; many firsts, sacrifices were made, and still, I had to be reminded that I’m nothing but a mere mortal, powerless and weak.
When THE CALL came in, I was getting dressed to leave home for my group bible study. Heard my dad and sister take in a sharp breath, and I just knew something was wrong, but I had no idea what it was. The news was broken in my native tongue, which I don’t really understand all that well, so they had to mask it and bade me farewell like all was okay, but all wasn’t. I could feel it in my bones, been feeling it for days but didn’t understand.
Gideon Ogelenye (my oldest brother) was the most important person in my life; he was the father, mother, best friend, and confidant. He made the traumatic experiences growing up as a child bearable, he was my balm, and I didn’t handle his passing away well (damn!!! I’m not even over it, and it’s been 6 years already).
I decided to stay back after the bible study to watch a football match (Barcelona was playing), so I didn’t get home till about 10pm. The bible study coordinator had to walk me, seeing as I don’t stay in the estate, and we meet one of my brothers (I have just 3 now, used to be 5) with a family friend on their way to the venue to come to get me and they both acted like all was well till we got home.
If you grew up in the barracks, you’d understand how crowded it can be when something is up, so I wasn’t expecting the millions of slippers I saw at the front door and the pitiful look I was getting from my neighbors (I still hadn’t found out). Saw my dad getting comforted by the men in the hood and my mom (who wasn’t in Lagos when I left for my group meeting) being comforted by the women, and I needed no one to tell me that my warrior had fallen.
This is the most challenging story to tell (the next episode inclusive), but it’s been bottled up for too long, and my pen isn’t the only one spilling liquid at the time of writing this.
