JULY 28, 2015 - THE OYEBANJOS’
It has been two weeks since he was released from jail. Twenty years in prison is not an experience anyone would pray for, not even for one`s arch enemy.
“When are you going to tell me about my mother?” Blessing asked. He eyed Victor, who sat at the other end of the table, sipping a drink. It was sunny outside; a fine day to be inside alone. “You promised to tell me everything about her as soon as you left jail. Well, it`s been two weeks since your release. I’ve been coming here almost every day to see you, but you`ve been nonchalant about it,” Blessing complained to the man facing him, a man he was just getting to know about; his father.
Victor stared at him for a moment and then smiled. Today, yes! Today. He took another sip and set the bottle down on the table.
Blessing was a robust, handsome young man with a graceful physique. He was twenty-three, broad-shouldered, with deep-set eyes. His eyes usually bore a cheerful look accompanied by a charming smile that exudes warmth. But as he sat with his father, anguish streamed from those eyes.
Anybody who barges in would be surprised at the striking resemblance of both men. The same eyes they had, the same nose and mouth, almost the same stature, but for a few inches gap. Victor stood at 5 feet 7 inches while his son stood at almost 6 feet.
Impatience was never alien to Blessing. The more his father wasted time, the more he struggled with the element called ‘impatience’.
“Well, Dad, I’m here today. I’m waiting,” he tried to sound cool but his voice betrayed his exasperation.
Victor got up and began to pace. Where should I begin the story? He thought, sensing the eyes of his beloved son on him. Victor wished his dad would stop prolonging his exhibition of serenity.
Victor’s hair had turned grey. Although he was only fifty-five, he looked seventy. “Blessing, my son, I will tell you everything now, not omitting or adding. However, I want you to promise me that…“, he paused and sighed, “…whatever I tell you today would serve as a big lesson to you throughout your life. You should be careful not to fall into the same trap from which I just got out.”
“I promise”, Blessing said with all seriousness, accompanying it with a nod.
“Good,” Victor replied. He was ready to unveil the story of his life to his only son and friend. A story that made up his past. When he began to speak, he travelled back into the rough, thorny realm of his past. It was like a twenty-five-year-old movie shot by a camera made of translucent lens and film-roll.
