My dad had just won a contract and everyone was celebrating. Dad’s workers were all present and they enjoyed meat and drinks in the garden while I stayed with Temidayo and Lekan in the garden. The duo have been my playmates since we attended the same school and lived in the same estate.
We were busy playing “after round one” (the win and slap game) and I was enjoying myself. I didn’t want the day to end. “I will pray for dad to get contract like this everyday” I soliloquised.
I had to report to the garden upon hearing the call of my name. “Go and call Temmy and Lekan, the three of you come and drink what adults are drinking”. Temmy and Lekan refused to drink. Their mum probably just like mine had instructed them not to eat outside.
The drink was so sweet that I couldn’t explain how sweet it was. I had to tell Lekan “it tasted like Viju milk but it is sweet like Jesus” since we were taught in school that Jesus is the sweetest thing. I asked for more but my dad sent me away warning that too much of it could make me die young.
I won a round of “after round one” (the game we were playing) it was my turn to slap Temmy and Lekan at the back of their hands. I was feeling dizzy and couldn’t control myself. In seconds, I began to feel as if a super power was bestowed upon me. Temmy stretched his hand forth and I raised my hand in simultaneously confidence, prepared to slap his hand. I couldn’t explain how my hand landed on Lekan’s cheek. He screamed, cried and hurried off to the garden so he could report me to my strict Dad. Temmy on the other hand stayed and plastered my body with words for slapping his brother. I needed a stone to deal with Temmy. I didn’t remember that he was far stronger than myself. The super power I thought I had was a major driving force.
I entered the sitting room in search of a good stone since I couldn’t find any outside. It was only televisions that I saw at different places on the floor outside. I discovered a good and big stone on the shelve. I reached out to carry it, despite its weight; I tried to struggle with it until it fell on my legs. It was then I knew I had carried a television instead of a stone. It was a new coloured television and no one had that type in the whole estate.
My Dad was disappointed to see his appliance all chattered on the floor. He didn’t even care about the slight injury I sustained.
“My dear, this boy is drunk” my mum pleaded but the man was too angry to listen “I will clear and remove the drink from his eyes now! Watch me.” He said angrily as he carried me into his room. He forced a cup of palm oil down my throats and then started to beat me. No one could save me since he had locked the room with jam lock. The super power I thought I had departed even before the beating reached half its peak. When my Dad was satisfied, he finally left me alone and went back to the garden angrily. It was so obvious I had interrupted the celebration.
Lekan and Temmy came to beg me but then I was too ashamed to yield to their petting mechanisms. “Why would my Father beat me for being drunk? Was he not the cause?” I kept asking myself. I was so ashamed and felt like killing myself.
I was feeling seriously sleepy and it was barely five minutes after the beating. I picked a bottle of vitamin C tablet from where drugs were usually kept on the fridge. Vitamin C was my choice because it wasn’t bitter and taking an overdose of it won’t be difficult. I rushed the pills down my throat exactly the way I watched it in movies swallowing about a hundred tablets.
I knew I was going to die that Friday so I wrote a short note to state the reason why I took the drugs. I placed it on the table and went to my bed to sleep since that was the only feeling I had.
I didn’t perfectly understand the situation until today’s medical school Biochemistry class. Vitamin C was a water soluble vitamin.
I landed in the toilet severally to excrete after receiving second round of Dad’s beating for attempted suicide.
Omolere Maxi Oluwatobi