Who’s to say that the darkest clouds won’t lead to rain? Who’s to say that when darkness goes, darkness will not come right around? I feel so lost and alone. Shooting stars, sunshine and double rainbows, beautiful little things that make life life, I’ve missed them all.
My name is Simisola Johnson, and I’m no longer as bright as I used to be. I just got back from Canada, where I spent a year acquiring a master’s degree in Psychology. Coming back home was supposed to be neatly tied together. Me, resuming at Dad’s office, as his right hand man in the day, and painting the town red at nights. I had called up some of my friends, I was planning a party, and my newly ordered red pumps were burning up in the shoe box. But I came home to find something else
Lying in a sick bed, looking frail, and delirious, was my dad. Olushola Johnson CEO, Servace Oil. I need not introduce him. He is well known, and infact, he has been the most googled Nigerian ever since the rise of our company. Everyone knows our family. The ever smiling Shola Johnson. Philantrophist, and all around good guy, his fair skinned wife, who acts like she has a permanent neck brace dedicated to ensuring she only rubs shoulders with those that matter in the society, and their only child, me.
Society calls us a perfect family, and many say I’m a social butterfly. But everything you see in the news, is not always true. My mum and dad have their differences just like every other couple, and as an only child, most of the shades tend to fall on me.
I had no inkling of anything happening, as I made my way to the private wing of our posh Lekki estate, wondering if daddy was watching the Kardashians on E! Something that pisses mum off, causing her to make allusions that dad might be gay, and dad asking her where she bought me from. The thought of their petty tiffs made me smile.
But when I pressed the buzzer, leading to our main quarters, I knew Daddy wasn’t watching the Kardashians. Infact, mummy was not calling him gay either. Mrs John, my dear nanny since the day I was born, welcomed me, and she looked so sullen, I feared someone might be dead.
“Mama” I broke into a run, and she met me half way,pulling me right into her full motherly bosom.
“You look well my child” she murmured. I pulled back and looked her in the face.
” What is wrong Mama? you look really upset.” I asked, but she just ignored my question, and started telling me about all the preparations made for my welcome party.
” My dear, I spiced, seasoned, and pot roasted the lamb breast just the way you like it. I confirmed with all your friends, and only Toni will not be coming – ”
“Please mama, do not treat me like a child,” I cut her off
” You will always be a child to me Simi, and like always, no expense has been spared for your party” she beamed proudly, from ear to ear. The only problem? her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“I’m not talking about the party Mama” I complained, as I laid my hand on the knocker that led to our huge entryway. The big Oak door groaned softly as it yielded open, before I even placed the first knock.
Everyone was expecting me.
“Madam welcome o!” Sam the door man said, as he locked the door behind us, and resumed his post.
” Thank you Sam, how’s the family”
“Very fine. Obodo oyinbo do you well o”
“Ehen? Thank you Sam.” I responded, too exhausted, and upset from my dearest nanny hiding her sadness from me.
Mama ran my bath, even though I told her I managed well in Canada, without her being there to help me.
After a much needed bath, my plan was to dress up, and visit my parents’ floor, and then harass my dad, as to why he didnt meet me at the airport. Why anyways? Was he no longer a doting father? Or was he too swamped at work? Emergency? … Sleep got to me, and took me away with my fleeting thoughts for many hours, and by the time I woke up, it was getting late.
“Daddy!” I shouted from my sleep.
I pulled out face wipes from the box by my bedside, and wiped sleep creases from my face, as I rushed out of my room.
Mama was on her way to see me.
“There you are. You must come with me at once” she said with a tone of urgency. She was in a hurry, and I wondered what for.
” Mama, I’m not in the mood for party planning right now. I feel rather unsettled, and I need to see Daddy.”
She stopped in her tracks, and I nearly bumped into her. I hated the look on her face. I was right all along.
” Its your father my dear. Its an emergency, and he is asking for you.”
“What!” I yelled. “What do you mean emergency mama!” I ran down the hallway, to the stairs that led to my Parents floor, with mama right behind me.
” Your father got sick shortly after you left.” She began to say, while running after me. “Doctor said he has prostate cancer. He has been taking all his treatments and medications religiously, but the Doctor said the disease was detected too late. He has only a few months left to live.” By the time I flung the room door open, Mama was heaving a sigh, she was exhausted from the run, and out of breath and so was my dad.
Just as I walked in, I saw him take his last breath. He was looking at me, but I couldn’t tell if he actually saw me.
By the special grace of cancer, my Dad has passed.