Meta Ai Image
Her eyes scanned the environment, there wasn't any significant change. The aura was still the same: half calm, half noisy. Patches of dark clouds plastered the sky like it would rain in no distant time, typical of the weather at that time of the year. Although the street was called Excellent, Joan thought that nothing seemed excellent about it. The taxi driver still had to manoeuvre through the cracked road filled with potholes. Aside from a standard two-storied duplex mounted in the middle of the street and a pretty large three-storey shopping mall beside it, single-storied buildings took up the entire space, with stalls and kiosks dispersed almost everywhere.
Three minutes into the street Joan thought she had fed her eyes enough. She hid her face in both palms and let out a long sigh. She gasped slowly, as if whispering, then shut her eyes again in a bid to suppress some memories from surfacing.
It worked, because when Joan realized, she was trying to make out the average-height chubby woman waving at her with a broad smile from a short distance. The woman stood beside a variety of fruits arranged on a wide table. If the woman was purchasing some fruits or she was the seller herself, Joan wouldn't know. As they drove past, her eyes fell on the side mirror, and the woman's image appeared, revealing a wrapper almost falling off her waist.
Suddenly, it clicked. Realization dawned on her like a flash of lightning. The mother of her primary school crush, Isah. Her hands flew to her mouth.
“Oh, my...”
She turned again, the woman was now smiling heartily, exchanging hugs with another chubby woman. Joan found herself smiling.
Isah... who said childhood infatuation could hold water? She turned to gaze at the receding image of the woman, trying to guess her current status. Was Isah done with his National Youth Service Corps (NYSC)? Did he have a company of his own or was he working with an established firm? It couldn't be that he was in the league of some frustrated graduates trekking under the scorching sun with their CVs soaked with sweat from underneath their armpits, could it?
Different thoughts danced to the drum beats of her heart, and she was forced to cast her mind back to the day before Isah left for his Uncle's place in Lagos. He had cupped his hands and whispered into her ears that he would come back for her and would take her round the world. Joan's tears that day could fill up an empty ocean. Remembering this, she chuckled slowly. Indeed, he would take her round the world. She wondered where in the world he was right now.
They got to the busiest part of the street, and the driver paused, suddenly picking up his phone. Although he didn't turn, he waved a hand in apology, hoping that Joan got the message. Joan continued her eye-feeding party. School children of about eight or nine of age matched through the pedestrian way, hands locked with their younger siblings. Teenagers walked past, eyes fixed on the road, with trays of vegetables and other perishables on their heads. One strange thing was the fact that Joan couldn't make up for the faces she had seen so far, well except for Isah's mother. Was she that bad in placing faces or were they new to the street?
As the driver started the ignition, Joan's mind jerked back to reality, a sudden realization of where they were headed. Home. If not home, a place that once used to be a shield of covering from the noises and pressures of adolescence. Home was peace to her, Mom's tender touch was assurance to her fearful heart, and Dad's broad chest was a balm to her soul.
But everything changed when the cold hands of death stole her mother from their strong grip. Ever since her mother's demise, things had not been the same. Her Father had withdrawn into himself, finding solace at the recliner beside the house, where he'd sit all day and stare at the gate, as if waiting for his wife to appear through the gate and announce to him, “I'm still alive!” with a smile-smeared face normal of her.
Joan, too, hoped. She wished her Father's wishes came through. At least, if not for her, but for the sake of the ageing man who had always sung to his children, he would grow old with the woman he loved. It was after six months that the scholarship results were released, and Joan's name stood boldly among the few other fortunate students from Stars Academy who had been chosen to further their studies at the University of Toronto, Canada.
Although a bittersweet experience, Joan was relieved she was leaving her Father in good hands — her immediate older brother, and her younger sister.
The taxi pulled up at house number 174. A different kind of feeling gushed up and down her spine. Joan stared long at the gate like it was suddenly a new course to be studied. It still maintained its dark colour but now looked newer, neater and more inviting than before. Possibly other renovation awaited her eyes right inside the building.
Her eyes weren't teary; there wasn't any sign of mist in them, but she couldn't get down. Her buttocks felt numb, pinned to the seat. Maybe it was better to return to the airport, right back to Toronto in Canada where she had come from. Maybe her scholarship program was still on until the end of her Master's.
Leonardo Ai image
But her dad, her aged father had been missed. She knew where he would be right now, the wooden recliner beside the house — his companion since her mother's demise. He wouldn't just be sitting; he would also be staring, praying silently, waiting patiently for his beloved daughter to walk right in through the gate to the place that would always be home. No matter what life stole from them.
©Delightedpen
As I read this, I can't explain the wave of emotions that I felt. Nice story 😊
Thank you so much. I could equally feel the enotions while writing.
👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
Thank you so much. 🥰
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Great story. Congratulations🙏😘👏👏
Thank you for reading through.
You are welcome.😘
Aging parents are a graceful sight but the moments that cannot be recreated may make it hurt. Great one here 👏