Pa Olanrewaju

 

The mornings were always cold, and Enitan was always sad. She was usually unhappy anyway, but living in her new home did nothing to cheer her up. Every morning though, she was betrayed by the sun and somehow, hoped for longer nights. 

The flimsy blanket meant to protect them from the cold and damp earth was never enough.

 She would toss and turn every night hoping that they can be shorter, but when the clouds never got brighter; were so long, the silence when on to remind her of their endless loneliness. 

She often thought of Pa Olanrewaju, an old man from her childhood. He had buried his family and friends on the dead ground, and he used to tell her stories of joy and sadness. He never told anyone how they died, because due to him, brought him even more grief and restarts his healing process. 

So he only remembered the happy times and told their stories to everyone who wanted to listen. He always offered his listeners buttered bread and cold tea with plenty of sugar. He didn’t mind whether she was a 13-year-old girl as far as she was always eager to listen to his stories. That alone made the both of them quite close and inseparable. 

Enitan would smile at one of the most memorable moments she had with him. 

It was a windy evening and it had rained cats and dogs throughout the day. Because of this, many did not go to work and shops were left unopened so it was an overall lazy day. She had sat with Pa Olanrewaju at his favorite spot under a mango tree which was situated close to his wife’s graveside.

“Can we make the tea hot today at least? My palms are cold” She had requested making him chuckle.

“You remind me a lot of Sola,” He said amidst laughter “She never liked her tea cold”. Sola was his wife and he had never spoken about her before. Enitan was wise enough to say nothing because she wanted to hear more. She also marveled at how the littlest of things made him laugh. 

With a faraway look in his eyes, Pa Olanrewaju shook his head and exhaled loudly.

“I know I don't talk about her often and with how inquisitive you are; I know you want to hear more”. He paused and glanced at my tea cup. “Why don’t you go and make that hot first, eh?” After a bit moment of hesitation, Enitan quickly took her cup, filled it with warm water, and returned it to the short stool, watching Mr. Olanrewaju with expect. 

“In as much as people never believed that Sola loved me, I knew what I wanted from her. She was quite young and the last of my three wives. I loved her dearly and although it might sound silly and foolish, I felt that our love was unbreakable, no matter how old I got”. His eyes moistened a bit as he took a sip from his tea reminding Enitan about hers, as she drank from hers too.

“She was the last to die, and I was the last one to bear the burden of mourning and tears. It was my first time mourning alone and I felt my life crumbling right before my eyes. I thought nothing good would ever happen to me again but that was a lie. Sola died on a faithful Sunday morning, the same day you were born”. He said as he peered into Enitan’s eyes and smiled quickly. 

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes. Her death was slow and painful and the most difficult I have had to accept but it happened”.

“But pa, you never told me sad stories before. Is everything okay?”

 “Life is not always about the good my dear”. His stern face softened as he spoke. “The sad is inevitable as well as the good. Like two sides of a coin, we must get familiar with each. Sickness and health, wealth and poverty, life and death”, he took a deep breath and looked up to the sky. 

“Do you know what these signify?” He asked

“You mean the stars”

“Yes”

Enitan shrugged and took a sip of her tea

“I used to think that they were little fireflies when I was younger, but my teacher said that they assist the moon to give us light as night,” she said. 

“Your teacher is right, but you, what do you think they are?” 

Enitan did not understand the question so she did not bother thinking about it.

“I don't know pa” 

“Our loved ones who have gone before us, watch over us through the stars. Why else do you think that they are so many?” He asked even though he was not expecting an answer

“You should always remember that your loved ones are always with you. Whether you acknowledge it or not.

Pa Olanrewaju did not make it the next morning. He died in his sleep, it was peaceful and silent. Anyone who saw him in his bed could swear that he was asleep. 

The bread seller who normally came by to sell to him, was the one who raised the alarm when she knocked on his door repeatedly and there was no answer. She quickly alerted the area boys who broke into his house and lo and behold, met his lifeless body. He was later buried by his church. 

Remembering him 18 years later left her with a bitter-sweet feeling for Enitan. He was no family by blood but she knew that they had a bond stronger than that. 

Then quickly making her way to the window, she drew open her curtains and stared into the dark sky. Then she knew, deep in her guts, that the one that shone the brightest was Pa Olanrewaju, and the one beside it; her newborn baby who she lost two weeks earlier. 

“I miss you both so much” she whimpered and swallowed the lump in her throat. 

That night, she slept with a half smile on her face and did not bother using a blanket. 

THE END.

Benecca’s Tales

2023

All Rights Reserved.

Picture Credit - Freepik

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Long time no story abi? I knowwwww. Phew, it has been so crazy to even get to finish a story. You don’t even want to know about it.

But yayyy we have a story finally. A win is a win lol. 

I am not usually the one to write about deaths but we cannot say no inspiration, can we?

Well, I hope you enjoyed the story. Don't forget to let me know what you think in the comment section. Share too. Thank youuuu❣️

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Email - thevanessawriter@yahoo.com