From The Cradle To The Grave – 3rd Decade – Amanda Obiwuru

From The Cradle To The Grave – 3rd Decade – Amanda Obiwuru

“Will I ever get out of this?” I thought to myself as bottle after bottle, I drowned myself in my sorrow. The pain, the fear, the loneliness, would it ever go away? I am just existing, living life through the motions. I have nothing to hope for, nothing to look forward to. I have everything but truly I have nothing.

 

 

Maybe I should just end it. That should do it, put a gun to my head, but that would be too dramatic. Or maybe jump off a bridge, that’d be attention seeking. An overdose will be perfect, sleep my way to heaven or would it be hell?.

 

 

 

 

My life has been a mess since I lost my mother, I wish she took me with her, then I would not have to go through this torture. I had the perfect childhood, the first 15 years of my life were absolutely perfect. My parents were so much in love and I lived everyday from the time that I was born in that atmosphere of love. I grew up as an only child and had the best of everything, everything you can ever think of.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I always wondered why I had no siblings until I turned 10 and my mum explained to me how she lost 3 babies. One, before me and 2 others after I was born, as miscarriages. I accepted my fate just as she had, and basked in the glory of all the attention I was getting. Then tragedy struck, mum was involved in a plane crash coming from Abuja, where we lived, to Lagos where I schooled at Queens College, Yaba. She was coming to visit me for my 15th birthday.

 

 

 

It was the worse period of my life and from then on, everything went downhill. My dad literally lost his mind, he became a shadow of himself. My once always clean shaven dad, now grew out his hair and beards, immersed himself in his work and shut everything and everyone out including me, especially me.

 

 

 

Image result for silhouette of man working

 

 

 

A year after, I turned 16 and I requested to have a Sweet Sixteen party at our mansion in Maitama, Abuja. As with all things, my dad obliged me and gave me everything I needed. We hardly communicated and stopped doing anything together. I got everything I wanted financially and materially but I was left at the mercy of domestic help for everything else. Unfortunately, I had no close ties with family members and the few cousins I related well with all lived abroad. I was only waiting to write my Secondary school final exams before relocating.

 

 

 

 

Later that night, after the last of my guests had gone, I went into my room to settle in for the night. A few minutes after, there was a knock on the door and it was my dad, I was surprised to see him. I’m not sure he had been in my room the whole of that year.

 

 

“Good evening daddy” I said as I sat on my bed.

 

 

He pulled out the chair of my dresser and sat on it facing me ,”Hope you enjoyed your party”, he answered in reply.

 

 

“Yes daddy I did, thank you for everything.” I said looking him straight in the eyes.

 

 

I had not been in such close range with him since my mum’s burial. And looking at him now, I noticed he had aged so much and there was this very sad, faraway look in his eyes. The man had not gotten over his wife’s death and I doubt he ever will, they were too close.

 

 

 

 

“I’d get straight to the point. I know I haven’t been so much of a father since your mum die…d”, he choked on his words, cleared his throat and continued. “It’s been really difficult for me and I just want to say I am sorry for shutting you out completely.”

 

 

 

 

“I understand daddy, I do, I just wish things didn’t have to change so drastically. I miss mum terribly and I know you do too”, I started to cry, I couldn’t hold it back. I cried and threw myself around him. He was crying too.

 

 

 

 

We must have been like that for about 5 minutes, in a tight hug, opening the flood gates of bottled up emotions. We had not grieved together since she died. He pulled back and made me sit on his legs as he hugged me again cradling me back and forth.

 

 

 

 

“It’s so hard, Amanda, especially with you, it’s really hard. Everything about you reminds me of her, your hair, your eyes, the way you talk, your smile. You look so much like her Amanda and that makes it hard.”

 

 

 

 

And then, he started to kiss me. I was confused for a bit till he grabbed my breasts and started to fondle me, I got up quickly and looked at him in horror. I didn’t understand what was going on, he held me down with strong hands and pushed me on the bed. He kept saying a lot of incoherent things and kept fondling me while also undressing me. I wanted to scream for help but I couldn’t.

 

 

 

“You’d enjoy it Amanda, she always did. She always wanted me and I know you will too.”

 

 

 

And just like that, my dad had canal knowledge of me on the night of my 16th birthday. I was a virgin and I had just lost my virginity to my dad. When he was done, he got up and left without a word. I curled up on one corner of my bed and was there till morning crying.

 

 

 

Image result for silhouette of a depressed teenage girl

 

 

 

In the early hours of the following day, I crawled into the bathroom and sat under the shower for almost 2 hours. That was the beginning of the end of my life. I was sick, sick to my stomach and threw up many times in the space of time I spent in the bathroom. I spent the next 3 days in my room falling in and out of sleep, throwing up and crying all over again.

 

 

 

It must have been my absence in the kitchen that prompted the head house keeper to check up on me. Not okay with the way she found me, she rushed me to the hospital with the permission of my dad and I was treated for malaria. I tried to get myself together as I had to return to school. My dad avoided me like a plague and only communicated with me through the house keeper.

 

 

 

 

I returned to school for the 3rd term of my final year, and about 4 weeks into the term, I fell very ill. It was at the sick bay the senior matron discovered I was pregnant. I couldn’t tell a soul anything and had to go through the torture of all the many assumptions and false accusations. I had always been an outspoken and vibrant student, I was one of the socially upward students. It was easy to conclude I was a flirt and had probably gotten pregnant for some boy. How could I possibly tell anyone I was carrying my father’s child?

 

 

 

 

 

I was expelled from school and sent home. My dad immediately arranged for the pregnancy to be terminated, got me registered in a private school in Abuja where I wrote my final exams and sent me abroad even before the results got out. Of course I failed and failed woefully but again with his financial influence, he got me into school in America and from then on, I breezed through life. From drugs to alcohol to bed hopping, I did it all. I got into trouble numerous times but always got out of it as soon as daddy got involved.

 

 

 

 

We had not talked in all of 7 years I had been away but he was always aware of everything I got up to and was ready to fix every problem. I never lacked money or anything for that matter, and I had no close relationships or friendships but had a lot of acquaintances. I took drugs to sleep and had frequent mental melt downs and one day, without any thoughts, I packed my things and decided I wanted to move back to Nigeria. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, I had no zeal, I had nothing.

 

 

 

 

Presently, I have a degree in International Relations and I love fashion in a weird way. It is the only way of expression for me. I mostly wear black to appeal to the darkness that has enveloped my soul and I have no single piece of white or bright colored clothing.

 

 

 

 

 

My name is Amanda Obiwuru, I am 23 years old and have absolutely no idea what next will happen with my life. I live alone in my fully furnished apartment in the high brow Ikoyi area of Lagos with 2 Luxury cars at my disposal, a fat bank account, a closet full of high end designer clothes, bags, accessories and 256 pairs of shoes and counting. I have an obsession with them.

 

 

 

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There we have Amanda. What a painful way to live in one’s youth but then again, life happens to people in varying degrees. How will she overcome this trauma? Will she ever be able to overcome it?

 

With one last character to look into, the story proper will start and we’d see how each character goes through life, at what point they all come together and how they all end up eventually.

 

It’s your girl Jay

Sending you Peace, Love and Light

Xoxo.

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