I grew rapidly into a black, well-built and handsome man like my father but I had my Mother’s face. My growth was normal. If I had not grown at that time, it would be late or I remained eternally a dwarf which was not in our blood. As a result, I no longer had my baths together with my brothers and sister. It was time to show them that I was growing. They were changing too and I noticed the rapid changes in them as they noticed the same in me. My own was only too visible for one to doubt. We were becoming men all of a sudden. I still communicated with Mother but we did not flow as we would if it were my father.
I was worried as lots of hair sprouted below my stomach area in a very short time. I developed a sense of guilt and could not free my mind. I was losing my childhood – a very precious and good time I would never recapture again. I was becoming an adult. The usual siblings tussle was not very pronounced in our household this time. There was a substantial age gap between me and my immediate younger brother Uzor. The male child given birth to after me died from measles when he was barely three months old and Mother stayed off from childbirth for another two years.
With my maturity which was too visible now to her notice, Mother wanted me to be more responsible in life. I felt she did not understand and turned against her. I disobeyed her a lot, sometimes walking out on her. Days and nights passed without any meaningful discussion. We were like enemies living in the same household. Mother could not decipher what was on my mind. My sudden change disturbed her and she carried the whole guilt.
Before now, I had been almost a husband to her, very helpful, both in the house and on the farm. Poor Mother! She had known me from the day I came into the world; the small child she cuddled, breastfed and loved had suddenly chosen a different path, had suddenly changed into a sullen rebellious adolescent. She tried hard to keep us together, at least to show us that she cared. She also tried to engage us in conversations but I became uncooperative, meeting her with a stony silence at most times. Sometimes I thought of myself as an ingrate.
The only person who said anything I liked to hear was Chike. At that stage of my life, he was my comfort and refuge. He was a good friend who spent a lot of time with me whenever Mother was not around. Mother did not like him coming around. But Chike was different from other boys. She did not know that Chike had made real efforts to encourage me to love her and be more helpful. He was a very responsible boy who was as handsome as I am and many women in our village noticed our compatibility in everything. Because of Mother’s dislike for him, our friendship did not last long. He could not visit me and neither could I visit him, for Mother had asked his parents never to allow me in their son’s company. That was the only way to separate us.
I was neglecting Mother day by day and she could not punish me with anything. That was the only thing I found pleasure in. I was good outside home to everyone but as soon as I enter our compound, it looked as though I was entering a war front. I frowned and say things that would irritate Mother. Mother sometimes cried in my presence. I felt I could survive without her. She was only there as a Mother. I could provide food for myself if she stopped feeding me and she could not beat nor make me cry. It became apparent that I had developed some unpleasant personality traits which I learned from outside. I had become arrogant and easily got angry with people. I began to really miss my father and felt his absence was the reason why I changed. It was true. It was bad to be fatherless early in life. I envied children with fathers so much that sometimes I taunted Mother for bringing me into the world. With time, I learned a lesson that Mother’s love to her children could not be measured with anything. Yet, there are times in a man’s life when he needs a man to lean on.
I believe that fathers too could love their children, even more than a Mother does. Father would have loved me if he were to be alive.
He would have loved me more.