Dear Daddy: If Only Love Was Enough…

If there was ever a person who ardently supported and believed in me, that would be my dad - The Prestigious Ben. I knew it, I felt it and I totally loved the feeling. Let’s just say I was a daddy’s girl sort of, despite the fact that he tried hard not to flaunt a favourite but I knew I had a special spot in his mind and will always do, notwithstanding the fact that he took a bow quite early.

This feeling pushed me (still does till date) to pick up whenever I sense the chips are going down. One person I wouldn’t want to ever disappoint in life is my dad because I saw how he gave me the best he could. I mean, he did virtually EVERYTHING he ever could to see that my potential is well harnessed. Or how would one explain the privilege of being the one among my other siblings to attend a school which could easily rank among the most expensive then? As competitive as it was then, he didn’t want me to relent with being among the top 10 and even top 5, he wanted more, it felt impossible because the competition was stern best believe! Besides, I’m not one given to the Till-Day-Break kind of lifestyle. I always read hours or minutes before an exam and I actually perform well in them. With the steady motivations and accompanying scolds from him, I knew I had to work harder. I did!

Fortunately, it yield good fruits as I emerged among the top 3 in class the, that was going to be a few days before everything changed. It was closing day and top performers were being called out to stage in recognition and applause. I kept looking over shoulders while one the stage hoping to see the one who motivated me to that point... I already envisioned the moment, how magical his hugs would have been. I imagined the pride he would have felt and importantly, already made a good list in my head of the 'palliatives' I would have demanded for meeting my own part of the deal. He wouldn’t have said no. Yes! I was smart enough at the time to know I should add a few books to the list, he loved books a lot. The first and only time I travelled with him, books were my ibu afia and boy did I love those moments! I have always had a thing for books, especially good reads, so bring it on zaddy.

Well, all these were never to be as it later occurred to me that those were loads of minutes well wasted wishing for the impossible. You guessed he was already gone at the point right? Not only that, he had ready spent days lying cold at the morgue at that point, while I ignorantly thought life was still business as usual.

Now let me paint a small picture of why I never had an inkling that he could have died no matter what. He returned from one of his trips to China, he came visiting me in school on the very first Saturday in July of that fateful year, bearing varieties of edibles, he looked ABSOLUTELY healthy and of course FRESH for one who had been away from the 'wicked' sun of the Nigerian weather. I was so excited not just for the gifts he bore, but to see him look so good. We had hugged and talked at length about school as usual and how he expected more from me because he knew I could do it, he reassured me of how he believed so much in me and promised to surprise me if I ever improved.

Of course, he surprised me. I'm still surprised even. For a fact, it still surprises me till date that a human being so healthy could slump and die just like that. To imagine I had penned down a beautiful letter to appreciate him for showing up for me, unfortunately, I was the one that read my letter. It was delivered the minute he was being wheeled out to the mortuary after his doctor confirmed him dead at home. This life! Life can knock one so hard that you wonder if you were in the creator's bad books. I think this might have been the point where I developed this tough skin I have today.

So, back to the main story. Apparently, all our teachers already knew the situation, but I must confess they were all good actors then. They did well to hide it from me and feign that all was well and normal. It was during announcements that I was told to join my cousin home. It was confusing, he had just returned from a trip and we knew his travel schedules were never so close together. To be sure, because it was unlike my dad, I went to one of the teachers to inquire who gave the instruction, I will never forget her expression in a jiffy. I asked her if my dad was the one who said so and with multiple blinks that might count up to a hundred and one, she said yes. I smelled a fish from her reaction, but I had to go home after all, fish or no fish right?

The journey home felt different, awkward, strange and came with all sorts of ill feelings from my end. I have traces of clairvoyance, so I knew something had gone badly wrong. Actually, I had dreamt about this and of course prayed fervently to God to avert that tragedy. The persistent feeling of fear that the worst may have happened never went away through the journey and my fears were confirmed when we got home to meet everywhere repainted and my dad's car parked awkwardly outside where he normally parked it.

I remember asking my second sister, mama ejima and she told me we now had so much money that they decided to repaint everywhere. That response irked me because I knew it was off. They also broke the news of the death of my grandma who coincidentally, had just been buried the same day I returned. My aunt who I had joined home then called my mum 'our wife', a tag entirely different from what she usually addressed her with. This further raised my fears and since nobody was yielding yet, I out of curiosity, began touring the house looking for what I can't even explain till date. I saw a stack of something packed inside a white package and because I loved to read just about anything, I was curious to bring one of them out oblivious of the content. I was shunned by the people around and that was the minute they decided to calm my wandering nerves and dropped the bombshell 'daddy unu ahapugo anyi'. Hmmmmm... Wait what! For split seconds, I didn't understand Igbo language. Who is daddy unu? What are they saying? I wondered. I can never forget this moment in my life. the memory is indelible, perhaps till I am old and gray. Unfortunately, this is one news we have lived with for 14 years.

Daddy, left us too soon and it worried me so much considering the circumstances that surrounded his mysterious death.

Dear daddy, I'm sure you knew and still know how much I loved and still love you. I hate to celebrate people when they are only dead. I'm glad I expressed myself while you were here, by writing those numerous letters you got to read and even the last one you didn’t get to read. I read the letter at the end of it all and best believe, it worsened the feelings. Tears were company those days. Food became alien, not like I have always been a big fan, so one can now imagine what became of me.

The discipline, the corrections, the love, the motivations, the supports and not giving a care about whose ox if gored in the process are the reason I am where I am today. Some days it feels clueless, like I’m not doing enough. Some days, I feel I might have made better choices if you were still here. Some other days I feel that he would have been here longer if love was enough. If tears were enough, we cried a river. I personally cried an ocean. Everyone knows how close my tear glands are to my eyes and ever ready to pour like an angry rainfall. They say life happens. Indeed, life knocked us, we lived in denial at the onset, until it was time to dust up and like the phoenix, we rose!

14 years down the lane and we have been holding it up strongly. Certainly, daddy will roll in his grave with so much delight if he ever gets a sneak peek at what we have become over the years.