Confusion

“Mum must have been deeply in love”, Ebere said as she passed one poem to me. We had gone through more than twenty poems but she wanted me to read out the one titled “One thing has not changed”.

One thing has not changed
I look all around me
Everything is changing
People around me are cold
Things I once cherish I cannot hold;

I wonder what is going on
I take a chance to voice my thoughts
Yet silence is all I get
Leaving me more confused with each passing day;

Then I sit back to muse on events
I realize one great truth – one thing has not changed
That is my undying love for you
Which nothing and no one can change.

“Could this be our father?” I thought. Just before I could voice out my thoughts, we heard the familiar hoot of father’s car. We quickly hid the poems under mother’s bed and ran to our respective bedrooms. I assured Ebere, who was reluctant to leave, that we would come back to the poems the next day because it was already 6p.m.

I pretended to be reading a book though my ears were alert for every move of father’s. He brought fear into my life. I hated him for all the pain he put mother through. I was scared of becoming a man, a husband and a father one day because I feared I will be like my father. I asked myself again, “Could he be the man mother was in love with? Was it because she had an undying love for him that was she could not leave him despite all he did? What kind of love did she have for him that overlooked his barbaric attitude?”

He went first to Ebere’s room, which was adjacent mine. I heard him demand for his food. I heard her stand up from the bed dragging her feet. I went back to my book, trying to focus or look serious in case he comes into my room. I noticed my book was upside down so I readjusted it.

Just when I thought I will concentrate on the book, I heard Ebere say, “Daddy, leave me alone.” There was a slap. There was a scream from Ebere. I could ignore him beating mother, because she ordered me never to get involved. But I would not ignore him touching Ebere. I stood up from my bed and rushed to her room filled with anger and hate. I saw my father with his arm around Ebere’s neck trying to suffocate her. I did not know when I sent a blow to his jaw that weakened him. He smelled as if he has been soaked in alcohol.

“Don’t ever touch her again,” I warned seriously.
He attempted to return my blow but I dodged. He lost his step and fell on the floor.
“Hope you have not hurt him,” Ebere said whimpering as she fell on her knees by his side. “He was not himself. He was under the influence of alcohol.”

Father grunted for us to help him up. Whether he was a drunkard or a woman-beater, he was still our father. We helped him up and took him to his room. I left Ebere with him as she tried to talk to him.

I walked away angry, frustrated and sad. I could not say a word to either of them.
“Mother, how come your love did not change for such a man?” I wondered as I found solace in the solitude of my room.