[STORY] DIARY OF A PASTOR’S SON (Episode 21)

Episode 21.

~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 sex 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 widened.

“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 inside 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..

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