MY JOURNEY: THE CHRONICLES OF A’TONE (part 1)

Dear Child,

I am very glad writing to you today. After you read this, be rest assured that your father lived a fulfilled life (if I’m gone before reading it) and a fun filled and fulfilled life (if I am still alive while you read this).

I was born just around the time 80’s came into existence and according to those who carousel’d me into the man I have come to become today, I was a young bright child with happiness in my feet and life in my gait. I was restless, energetic, troublesome and i loved eating. But is that not how all healthy children must be if they must be healthy children? It is instant fear when a boisterous child becomes docile; that will be a sure signal that the child is sick.

so all my growing up years I was really misunderstood as a child, especially by my siblings; or say I that I greatly misunderstood them when they constantly wanted to put me under check for being a child. Maybe it was the age difference that made them see me more as ‘their’ child than a younger sibling, but the truth remained (remains) that I am their younger brother and not a biological child. Or how else would you explain it when your elder brother is 17 years older than you? It is unexplainable right?

So while I was growing up and trying to blend into my society, I grew up with an aged father and young 'older' ones with super rage and unequivocal penchant for ‘justice’. By justice, I mean, inability to understand the necessary excesses of a child and thereby rewarding him with pain for his every folly.

So for a long time, I seldom understood why I was always serving punishments for a simple crime of 'just' playing football with my peers on the streets. Or for wanting more food or for losing money when sent on an errand, or for forgetting to wash used plates.

You see for a long while, I used to think I was adopted. I didn’t understand why my brothers and sister (it was just one sister at the time who was old enough to also punish me) would treat me with such disdain. And like I said, my father was aged so he didn’t realize what was happening to his last child. My mother was as well uninterested; she never fights for me, never supports me or even defended me during these ‘infant trials’.

But I remained steadfast.

You see, I am a very visualistic individual (yea i coined the word, I have licence, LOL) , right from when I was very young. I would think up ideas, plot road plans in my brain and just exist in my own world for a time being. (the truth is, I am still that). I plan far ahead before I even begin to voice it out. I read the map in my mind, of the place I want to be and the things I want to do even before I realize I am doing that thing. And so I developed a unique residual strength for the punishment that I suddenly became accustomed to. I would ‘stood-down’ for 5 hours without losing grip and sometimes even sleep while at it. I would wash cloths, iron them and dear not burn them at just 11 years of age.

I would run errands till late in the night and so I knew all the short cuts in my area. I became very street smart and got blessed with the gift of being bold, calculative and resilience.

And so I plotted my own escape and freedom. As a 15 year old boy, after the battering and maltreatment from my ‘blood’, I decided long time before it happened, that I will abscond with my last breathe and live my life as I want it. I had a friend in my secondary school then called Johnson and he stayed in Maryland with his uncle in the BQ just behind the main house. I have been to his place several times after school and his place was the ‘getaway plan’. This fateful day, my mother sent me ‘kerosene’ for the stove and with about 200 naira in my possession I could fuel my disappearance conveniently. My clothes were packed already and I just rounded it up and was at the bus stop gallivanting towards Maryland, Lagos.

I was so bold. I was thinking of the euphoria awaiting me where I was going. I didn’t even tell my friend what I was coming to do. I didn’t inform him that I wanted to stay with him for the ‘rest’ of my life. I didn’t inform a soul about my ‘great plan’ because I didn’t trust anyone with it. I wasn’t scared to die or be kidnapped. At that time, I only saw myself being liberated finally! It was a great feeling and as I write even now after more than 16 years later, I can remember vividly that fateful day and the feelings deep inside.

I got to Johnson’s place and he was more than happy to welcome me. We did things together. We drove his brother’s cars when he went to work and I bonded so deeply with the arsatian bred dog that was about 8 months at the time.  Bruni was as exciting as my adventure. She wagged her tail every morning that I take her for a walk. We played heavily round the big compound and strolled in the night too. It was at my friends place that I learnt how to drive, have sex and be independent. It was a roller coaster of a ride and I was free at last.

One faithful morning, my friend Johnson told me I had to go. That was just after a week. I was sad but he explained to me that his brother wouldn’t be glad that I was staying with them since he didn’t approve of it in the first place. It was later I realised that it was the driver who advised him to let me go because he didn’t know if I was running from the law and he could be implicated if I was a danger to myself and the society. Well, it wasn’t a big deal, I always had a plan.

I picked up my small nylon package wherein contains my 2 shirts and took another public transport to ikorodu; my uncle’s place. I got there late in the night and I was welcomed better than I expected. I was cooked for, bathed and made to sleep in a comfortable room. The following morning, the first person I saw was my mother and someone else. My uncle, Chief Akin Atoloye called a meeting and explained how all this happened. Apparently, my mother had been so distressed by my sudden disappearance and had been going from one place to the other to ‘cry’ out her son. In one of such sojourn she had visited Ikorodu, my place of origin and spoke to my uncle about her debacle. So when he saw me that night, he was ready to do anything to make me not do the ‘disappearing act’ to him to too.

My mother was there seated. My uncle was there talking but I was here plotting my next move. I wasn’t going to submit my freedom no more for wicked siblings to use at will. After the whole sermon, I got up with my mom and headed home. I didn’t know what to expect but I expected the worse. When I got home, it was like a jamboree. Everyone came out to see the prodigal son. There was much chatting going on in the background than in front of me but I was less bemused. My community was filled with such people for me to care even at just 15 years of age.

When the night came, a family meeting was held. My father was too old to comprehend what was being said. My ‘justice league’ elder siblings were unrepentantly in an apologetic mood and despite their defiance; I noticed that their body language spoke differently from what their mouth uttered. I had gotten the freedom I yearned for.

Suddenly, all the usually unnecessary maltreatment in disguise of disciplining went from this high (I wish I can plot a graph here) to this LOW! I had become liberated. I wasn’t sent unusual errands no more. My mother was more careful words to use when addressing me and my elder taskmasters avoided me altogether. I didn’t believe that my simple act of adventure could earn me such liberty and freedom. Although I planned my adventurous disappearance, I didn’t foresee the freshness it could bring.

I didn’t grow to hate my siblings but I have grown to detest all forms of cheating, undue maltreatment and inhumanity. I can seldom stand anyone who wants to cheat someone I know or cheat me.

So my child, when you read this, realize that it was written for you to know that life will be easy on you even if I love you so much and wish to give you the best you deserve in life. You need to plan ahead. Don’t ever settle for less because in that will be fed the food of distress. Am I saying you should run away anytime you face difficulties? No! But if that is the only, and I mean ONLY solution to your liberation, don’t hesitate to do it. Properly plan your entry and exit strategy and don’t ever do anything on impulses.

Today, I am married and I have given birth to you through this great union. I promise to give the best to you through all the phase of your growth but this timely wisdom will I smear into your consciousness even before you attain puberty; If you fail to plan, you are actually planning to fail.

So, you can imagine how it is when I had grown into a young man and older men play or try to play on my intelligence. Men that I would naturally want to trust with my life because of their standings either in the society. Someone sometime not too far ago employed me into some form of cheap labour and after 3 months refused to pay me because a kobo. Yet according to him, the reason was unexplainable because everytime I approached him for it, he will simply tell his secretary to send me away. I left after 3 months of course but I can still remember him and his name; Pastor Francis in CCIC (Yes, Pastor Tunde Joda’s own church in Aguda Surulere).

The next was Pastor Ray in Hagiazo who would rather give autonomy to his unofficial secretary than the wife he married at home. He maltreats his staff and treats them as thrash. He works with the fear factor rather than favour factor and his flocks are under his ministry because of his oratorical prowess rather than what he does. He was faker than I have ever seen.

Now my child, this is the beauty of it all. If you ask me about these ‘men of god’ today, I will tell you that they have been disgraced out of ministry. I am not writing this to mock them, I am writing it to say that the sin men commit will surely live after them. We are all faulty at some point of our hubrical humanity but robbing it off another as strength is where the problem lies. I grew up working closely with Pastors because I was a church boy (now I am a Christ boy) and they simply feast on your weakness as a young man with needs and just maltreat you. I know other Pastors too who deserve such portion but it is even worthless to mention their name here. They preach something they seldom practice and all their lives they have lived as cheat, liars and hyprcrites.

Dear child, I am writing this to you so that you will know that basing your model on man (be it a pastor, reverend or pope) is totally worthless. They are as human as it can surely be and you will simply be disappointed when they come full circle.

But I can as well confirm to you that I know a Pastor that is more than just a pastor. His name is Pastor Uche Ajah. Totally of a different breed and an honourable man to the letter, he embodies something totally fresh, different and unique. Humble, resilient and true to his word, he has totally won my trust and I know these type of men are rare, if you find one, stay with him.

Dear child, I am saying this because I will also raise you as a (church) Christ Child, needing the leading and guidance of the Holy Spirit through spiritual leaders called Pastors. Humans are different and unique and no two humans are the same. Some are just totally never to be trusted whether they be unique or different.

Dear child, function to the best of your abilities but most importantly when you do all things, remember these words; Be happy! Be You. Search early in life what is worth dying for because we all would die someday but it’s sweeter when it is for something. Never satisfy anybody else above yourself, never believe the word of an excited fellow, never plan your life on the promises of another human, never love blindly, only fools do that.

Dear child, remember this always; I love you.