The Lengths They Go Through 2

The hold-up that happened on the way to Yaba, where my school was located, proved to be far worse.

It was almost 11:30 am in the morning (I remembered checking my wristwatch), the streets were flooded, the rain gave no sign of letting up and tensions were rife in the air.

I just couldn't understand why Dad was so determined for me to go to school under that dastardly intense weather. He was supposed to be my buddy, supporting my decision not to go and helping me find ways to get a make up test. He said so many things in the bus, to try to cool down the embers of tension between us, but I kept on ignoring him.

“I think we should get down here, since the hold up has no guarantee of moving.” he said, intruding into my thoughts and putting my defenses into full gear.

“It's still raining heavily.” I cried in protest. “ Will we have to walk all the way down to school? It's still far.”

He sighed deeply, ignored my retort and proceeded to get down from the bus. I had no choice but to follow his lead.

And that was how we started the long trek from Sabo towards my school, which was just behind the Yaba College of Technology. I could see and feel the frustration emanating from both motorists an pedestrians alike, as all were trying to escape the mayhem of a heavy traffic. The streets had now become formidable streams of murky water, almost swallowing some unlucky vehicles which dared to ford through it. Huddled uncomfortably under the Sabo Pedestrian bridge were a group of beggars with nothing but a slight sheet of tarpaulin shielding the from the heavy rain. The weather was indeed a gloomy one. It was then that a prick of conscience slowly melted through the iron curtain I placed around myself.

I looked at Dad, walking briskly by my side, a slight smile on his face, with his ever present earpiece on his left ear, and the curtain melted finally. It hurt to see Dad going through that stress to walk me down to school and then still struggle to make it to his shop which was in Lagos Island. Memories of him carrying wee, little me on his shoulders to my nursery school came unbidden. The agile young man of my toddler days, was already growing older evidenced by wrinkles already developing on his weather-beaten face and a slight slowness in his gait. And the fear of losing him came to me - why was I taking such a blessing of having parents who care a lot for their children for granted?

“I know you may think it's foolish for us to go under this weather.” he said, glancing briefly at me. “But, I have my reasons. If you don't learn how to endure hardship while striving to get what you want in this life, then you may never know how to manoeuvre your way through tough times in future.”

“I want this day to be a day you will always remember.” he continued. “A day when you had to brave the rain to go to school. It may seem foolhardy, but what is life without a bit of whimsy added to it?”

At that, I smiled and the tension between us was broken. So, we continued our long trek, talking of so many things - politics, history, football (he is a loyal Chelsea fan), until we ended up at the gates of my school. With a twinkle in his eye, he wished me the best in my test and went off to his own world.

Funny enough, almost all my classmates were present for that test. I remembered I had goosebumps spread all over my skin due to the cold, but I scaled through it. And in the end, I still aced the test, even though I was sceptical about passing.

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The thing is we often take such blessings of having parents for granted, that when we lose them, we start biting our nails in regret. There are so many who would give anything to have parents, someone to caution them when they are treading down the wrong path and be their number one cheerleader in every situation.

*Sigh* Let me stop here on a final note, by dropping a verse of the Qur'ān here:

“Thy Lord hath decreed that ye worship none but Him, and that ye be kind to parents. Whether one or both of them attain old age in thy life, say not to them a word of contempt, nor repel them, but address them in terms of honour. (Surah Al Israa verse 23)

I hope with the little I have written, you were able to learn a few things. So, pick up that phone of yours, and call them - most parents love that you call them from time to time, instead of them doing it the other way around all the time. Besides, who would want to miss out of the barakah that comes with keeping the ties?

Take every opportunity, folks. I have to stop here for now.

Until next time, Arriverdeci!

As salaam alaykum warahmatullāh wabārakātuh ✨.

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