The Sword called Divorce (Episode 3)

                

“What did you say?” Nike asked when she’d recovered.

                “I know what daddy did.”

                Nike buried her head in her hands, praying that the next words that left her mouth were not a mistake.

                “What did he do?” She asked.

                “You know. I know. I still think you can forgive him.” 

                Nike sat up, and took her daughter by the shoulders: “Look here young lady, when you’re thirty and married and your husband does to you what your daddy did to me…then we can have this chat. So, don’t you dare judge me.”

                Marie looked away. There was nothing more to be said. It was obvious her mother’s mind was made up.

                Nike stood up and left the room without a word.

               

Nine days later, Marie found out the identity of the other woman by chance.

                It was a Wednesday and she’d just returned from school, she’d come home a little earlier because she’d faked sickness in school. It was no use hanging around classes when she couldn’t concentrate on a word being said.

                As she neared the front door, she heard the voices. Her mother’s voice and another voice that sounded very familiar to her.

                “…get out.” Her mother was saying.

                “Don’t do this ma. Please I beg you.” The second voice belonged to a woman.

                “You still dare ‘ma’ me? Eh…Izie? If you respected me enough you would have stayed away from my husband!”

Marie almost fainted. Sister Izie! She was the one who’d broken her family apart! Oh Lord…

                “It was the devil’s handwork ma. I beg you. Please forgive him.” Izie was weeping now.

                “So, you’re here to advocate on behalf of my husband? That is the level we have reached abi? Ingrate! Get out of my house now before I throw you out!”

                Marie wasn’t fast enough this time and before she could move, the front door swung open and she found herself looking into the face of a teary Sister Izie and her mother right behind her.

                “You! Get inside now!” Mum shouted.

                Marie opened her mouth to say something vile to Sister Izie. But she couldn’t seem to think of something to say to the woman who was weeping openly before her.

                “Get inside Marie! I will deal with you later.” Her mother said again.

                “Why, Sister Izie?” Marie asked and without waiting for an answer, ran into the house.

                “I don’t want to see you anywhere near my family again.” Nike said with calculated calm as her daughter left.

                “Please ma, I’m sorry. You know I love the children.” Izie was still crying.

                “Well, obviously I made a mistake. You loved my children and decided to extend it to my husband. You have no right to love them anymore. You just destroyed our lives.”

                Nike watched with unblinking eyes as Izie walked away with her head bowed.

                Why had God allowed this to happen to her? Her own husband and Izie! The thought of it still repulsed her.

                Izie; the girl she’d taken under her wing. The girl she’d loved because she reminded her so much of her younger sister. Izie; her own convert…yes, the only soul she’d say could be credited to her account in heaven.

                Izie, that she’d let into her home and given access to everything. She could still remember her words to Izie when she’d brought her to the house for the first time.

                “My home is your home, Izie darling. Feel free whenever you’re here.” She’d said, feeling generous. The women leader with influence.

                “Oh ma! You’re so kind! God bless you!” Izie had gushed with gratitude.

                “You know we are put on earth to bless others. So, my dear…feel free to come around. My home is your home and God’s love is here in abundance. Oya, come let’s enter the kitchen and get you something to eat.”

                And so it had begun. Six whirlwind months of having Izie in their lives. Six months she’d thoroughly enjoyed, she couldn’t deny it now. Izie had been wonderful. The kids loved her. Nike did too. And apparently, Joe had loved her…only, he’d taken his love too far.

                Forgive? Ha!

                The thought made Nike shudder. Two people she loved very much had betrayed her. How and where did forgiveness come in? Even God will understand how she hurt. Judas Iscariot had, after all betrayed Jesus. And he’d paid.

                As she turned to go back inside the house, she thought of her daughter who’d overheard the conversation. Marie loved Izie…they’d gotten along well together. What would this do to her?

                Marie was lying face down on the bed when her mother entered her room, she didn’t stir. She didn’t want her mother to see the tears in her eyes.

                “Sweetheart?” Nike called softly.

                There was no answer.

                The bed creaked as Nike sat on it and put a hand around her child.

                “She’s the one, isn’t she?” Marie’s voice was muffled by the pillow.

                Nike inhaled deeply. How was she to answer that question?

(To be continued…)

The Sword called Divorce (Episode 2)

              

For the next one week, the home of the Babalolas was choked with tension. Marie avoided her parents as much as possible.  Even ever-joyous Bella sensed the tension and was a bit withdrawn.

                Once, she’d asked Marie what divorce meant; Marie had snapped at her and said: “Go ask Mummy and Daddy!”

                It was an act she instantly regretted. She was mad at the world and even people who didn’t deserve it. What pained her was her powerlessness. There was nothing she could do to stop this insanity going on in her home.

                “Marie, we need to talk about this.” He r mother said, after eight days of silence.

                She  ignored her mother as she stood in her room that evening.

                “I know this is hard but you can’t disrespect your father and I because of it. We raised you better than this.”

                Silence.

                “Marie, please.” Nike was begging now. It was evident her daughter wasn’t budging. “This isn’t the end of the world, honey. We can beat this. We will do what’s best for you.”

                And with stony eyes which Nike hadn’t known her daughter possessed, she asked: “Who’s we?”

                Nike wanted to break down into tears. It killed her to see her daughter look at her that way and talk to her with such coldness.

                “We might not be living together in future, but we are still a family.” She said instead. “Daddy is still your daddy and I’m still your mum and we love you very much.”

                Marie snorted under her breath. She didn’t want to tell her mother that she knew the cause of the divorce.

                She’d eavesdropped on two occasions; well not really eavesdropping since her parents were talking in high whispers.

                “I’m begging you, Nike. Let’s not do this to them. This is between us and we can work it out.” Daddy was saying.

                “You should have thought of that before you put your head between another woman’s skirt.” Her mother had replied sharply. “Not just any woman…a woman I introduced to you! Because I trusted you. I can’t even look at you because it disgusts me when I think of it!”

                Marie could literally hear the bitterness in her voice and she wanted to rush in and…and do what? This was beyond repair. Daddy had cheated and it was disgusting…but Mummy could forgive him.

                She was a Women leader in church and had always advocated for forgiveness among spouses   . Well, it’s time to practice what you preach Mummy.

                “It was a mistake, Nike. It was only once. Please I beg you, don’t do this to us. Forgive me, please.”

                There was no answer, and then Marie heard sniffling. Mummy was sobbing.

                “Nike please.” Her father said again.

                “Just leave me alone.” Mummy had said.

                And Marie heard the creak of the bed as she stood up. The conversation was over.

                She tiptoed to her room and cried her eyes out. She hadn’t told anyone except her best friend that she couldn’t sleep at night. Once she closed her eyes, she saw things. Her sleep was no longer peaceful.

                Her thoughts were permeated with fear. Fear of what she’d become if her parents divorced. Who would she live with? Mummy or Daddy?

                Because of her lack of sleep at night, she found herself dozing off in class. In one week, Marie began to lose weight and become gaunt. The normally boisterous girl became quiet and withdrawn.

               

                Nike had noticed all this and decided to put an end to the grudge Marie held against them.

So far, she wasn’t succeeding.

                “Talk to me, sweetheart.” Nike pleaded again.

                “There’s nothing to say.” Marie replied, still refusing to look at her mother.

                “I’m sorry this is happening…but please baby girl, be strong for my sake. For Bella’s sake.”

                “Oh…now you remember Bella? You’re asking me to be strong…Mum, you’re such a hypocrite.” Her words stung.

                Nike was taken aback. This was not her daughter speaking. It couldn’t be.

Without thinking, she raised her hand and let it connect with her daughter’s cheek A stinging slap intent on chasing away any demon that had possessed her child.

                Marie recoiled, holding her hand to her face with the cold look in her eyes.

                “Don’t you ever talk to me that way, young lady. I’m your mother no matter what you think of me.” Nike’s voice was low and serious.

                “You’re my mother but you’re a liar. You preach love and forgiveness to people but you cannot forgive Daddy!”

                “What are you talking about?” Nike asked, trembling.

                “I know why you’re divorcing Daddy. I’m not stupid.”

                The words echoed in Nike’s ears.

(To be continued…)

               

The Sword called Divorce

                “Sweetheart, you know we love you, right?”

                Marie cocked her head and peered from one parent to the other. Something was up. She sensed it.

   Daddy didn’t usually call a family meeting to say how much he loved them. This was different and serious, especially as she looked at Mummy’s face and saw her trying hard not to frown.

                “We know! We know!” sang Bella, her ever-happy-adorable-yet-pain-in-the-butt younger sister.

                “Good. That’s my girl.” Daddy pulled her into his laps, a small smile playing on his lips.

“What’s happening daddy?” Thirteen year old Marie asked, curious.

                Her daddy averted his eyes and glanced at Mummy who sat beside him with her head bowed. Marie could read the look in his eyes…it was a silent plea.

                There was no forthcoming response from Mrs Babalola. She remained still, almost oblivious to her surroundings.

                Daddy sighed and cleared his throat. “Your mum and I will always do what’s best for you, you know that girls, don’t you?”

                Now she was sure of it. There was a big news coming. This was definitely not normal. The suspense was killing her. And why was Mummy sitting like she’d just lost someone?

                Oh no! Had anyone died? Was it her mum’s favourite brother? Was that why Mummy seemed so sad?

                “Surprise, daddy?Surprise?” Bella clapped her hands gleefully. “Tell! Tell!”

                This time Mummy looked up and that was when Marie saw the tell-tale signs of tears in her eyes. What! Mummy was crying? Then someone had really died.

                “Just tell them Joe.” Mummy said softly.

                “I can’t.” Daddy’s voice sounded strange. Like he was choking.

                “Tell us what, Mummy? Did anyone die?” Marie asked, looking frantic now.

               

********************************************************

Nike Babalola couldn’t bear to look at her children. Especially Marie…her question had sent a spear right through her heart.

                “Mummy, did anyone die?”

Yes sweetie. She wanted to say. Our marriage. Your father just killed our marriage.

                But she didn’t speak, couldn’t. She was afraid that she’d burst into tears if she dared say a word.

                “No one died, Marie. It’s just...” Her husband paused again.

Say it already! She wanted to scream. Tell them how you went and slept with someone else. Tell them how you broke our marriage vows. Tell them how you tore this family apart with your singular selfish act!

                “Your mummy and I…” Another pause. “We…we are getting a divorce and we need you to be strong.”

                Finally!

****************************************************

Marie was sure she’d heard wrong. This was a joke. A big joke.

She’d wait for the punch line. The right time to laugh was coming. Definitely.

                Ten seconds passed. Then twenty. No punchline. No laughter. Just silence.

                Even Bella was silent.

                No, no, no!

                “This is a joke, right daddy? Mummy?” Marie eventually spoke.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, but no.It’s true.” Daddy said, still holding Bella.

                “Why?” It was the only thing she could think of to say. She was already boiling inside.

                “We…we’ve had some problems. Adult stuff. Married people problems.”

                “That you can’t fix?” She blurted.

******************************************************

Joe Babalola looked away from his daughter who suddenly seemed so much older. He could see the challenge in her eyes. His hot-blooded daughter.A true daughter of her mother.

                “Tell me daddy! Mummy, is it a problem you can’t fix?” Marie asked again, her voice going up a notch.

                Answer her Nike. Joe willed her silently. Tell her why we can’t fix this. Tell her why you can’tforgive me for my stupid mistake. Tell her why we have to break our family  apart because of my mistakes…because of your unforgiveness.

                Tell her, because I can’t. I can’t look my lovely daughters in the face anymore and tell them I’m leaving them. It will kill me.

                Please Nike. Forgive me for their sakes.

                His eyes searched her face for any sign that she was feeling the same pain he was.

                “I can’t believe this! You both are the most wicked parents ever! You didn’t even try to fix it for our sakes! Look at Bella! Have you suddenly stopped loving us?” Tears were pouring down her eyes now. “I hate you both! I wish I’d never been born into this stupid family! Get your divorce…I don’t care!”

                With that she ran out of the living room.

*****************************************************

               

She couldn’t seem to stop crying. Her chest kept constricting when she tried to choke back the tears.

                This was a dream. It couldn’t be happening. She was going to wake up and realise what a bad dream it was. Yes.

                Even as she thought it, Marie knew it was real. Every bit of it. Her family had fallen apart. She was going to be one of those kids with divorced parents. Kids who moved up and down from one parent’s house to the other.

                Her life as she knew it was over. She would never have a happy home to come to, no sitting on her daddy’s laps or hanging out with mummy in the kitchen. No family outings or family dinners.

                It was all gone. With that sword called Divorce.

                Why did it even exist? Why give people a choice to walk out of their marriage if they were not comfortable with it? Why couldn’t they fight for their love? Why!

                She knew she’d said a lot of hateful things to her parents…maybe they deserved it. How were she and Bella going to cope with this new development?

                She didn’t want to think about it. At least not now.

                She lay on her bed and closed her eyes as the tears poured out.

                What would a divorce do to her?

THOU SHALL NOT - THE PASTOR'S KID

                Hey guys, my name is Melody and I’m a Pastor’s kid.

This piece is to all the Pastors’ kids’ out there. Those who’ve been bound by bizarre unspoken rules all their life.

                “And they’re pastor’s children.”

                How many times did I hear this phrase while growing up?

You sneeze awkwardly and everyone looks in your direction saying to themselves with a smirk on their face: “And she’s a Pastor’s child…Humph!”

                And I’m like what? So I can’t sneeze again?

The same people would do worse things and justify themselves sweetly.

                As I grew up, I got to discover some of the crazy things expected from Pastors’ kids…(feel free to add yours.)

- Thou shall not come late to church for any reason (even if you have the perfect excuse of say, traffic, rain etc.)

-Thou shall not look good. You know Pastor’s kids are actually expected to be the poorest looking in church? Dress good and you’ve started backsliding. Ha!

-Thou shall not, for any reason be caught talking to the opposite sex.

-Thou shall be perfect in morals.

-Thou shall not make mistakes of any kind (at least in public.)

-Thou shall be in every church department possible.

-Thou shall not miss any church service for any reason…even if you’re sick.

-Thou shall always be sober.

So, these are a few I can remember. Preposterous right? Indeed! Come on! Aren’t Pastors’ kids human too? Don’t they deserve to have a life without this label? Personally, I wish there was some price that came with being a Pastor’s kid…you know; a large mouth-watering sum of money that will make us live the stereotyped lives you want.

                 So much is expected from Pastors’  kids while so little is given. There’s more to us than just that. We are actual people who more often than not, love the same things you love. Why can’t you let us live our lives for ourselves? Why do we always have to look over our shoulders expecting a reprimand?

                Guess what? You cry, we cry. You laugh, we laugh. You fall in love, we do the same too. You make mistakes and so do we. You aren’t perfect…yet…and neither are we.

                Most times these bizarre rules are what makes Pastors’ kids turn out to be hell raisers and rebellious. They’ve lived their life according to the dictates of others; what the church would like and what not. What would the members say if they see you doing this or that?

                Why do you keep looking out for our weaknesses? Our failings?

“Did you see how Pastor’s daughter was dancing today in church? Hian! She was just shaking everything! I wonder oo! These Pastor’s children of nowadays. Only God knows where she learned that one from!”

“Did you see Pastor’s first son talking to Bro. Ola’s daughter? In church! And he’s a Pastor’s child!”

“Yesterday I saw Pastor’s daughter close to that club. I don’t even know what a Pastor’s child was doing in that area sef. Oh!”

“After church today Pastor’s son just left church without greeting anybody. That boy is a case ooh! I’m sure Pastor is tired of him sef. Only God will help us in training all these children.”

                These and many more are the conversations that ensue among church members. C’mon guys! Get a life!

                Live your life and stop looking out for the failings of the Pastors’ kids. For crying out loud, they’re human beings too! And they like to look good! And yes, they intend to get married someday so pardon them if they’re talking to the opposite sex in church…what do you expect? That they do it elsewhere?

                And sometimes the talk isn’t necessarily what you think…sometimes it’s just innocent talk. Just two friends having a friendly chat Abi, we aren’t allowed to have friends again?

                Don’t set us on a pedestal we are not.

                 Here’s what these rules do…they keep us in check. We learn to live a near perfect life…in public. (Is that good?) Because no one knows what we do behind closed doors.

                My simple advice to all Pastor’s kids out there…don’t live your life for any human.

Live for God. Because God is everywhere…in those public places, and in the secret too. He’s watching and he knows you better than these people ever will.

                He cares for you more than they ever will and the good news is, he isn’t looking for your weaknesses…he’s building on those strengths. He sees you for who you are and not what you’re labelled with.

                And I think that’s way better.

                There really isn’t any difference between Pastor’s kids and other kids…except, well…their parents are Pastors.

                So, let me re-introduce myself: Hi; my name is Melody and I’m human. Like you.