Life

"Do you remember Ayeni?", mother said.

"Yes mommy", I replied with a ferocious frown as I was inwardly imagining how he broke the heart of my sister back in school, knowing fully to me that he owes me a revenge, one which I'll avenge when I get the chance to.

Mother continued;

"He lost his father in a car crash this morning", as she said it with brokenness well spelt on her face..

I lost my fierceness and got tinged with sorrow.

Oh!

"How could this happen?"

"How did it happen?"

I started asking rhetorical questions. Poor Ayeni, a boy whose life and education has been solely sponsored by his ever determined father, a father who wants him to be an engineer and also a footballer.

I became perturbed,

"Sister Sade",

"Sister Sade",

I called my elder sister with a longed voice, a chattering voice, a voice filled with sorrow.

"Momma said Ayeni lost his father yesterday, Ayeni's father is dead", I said with a heart pierced with arrows made from the metals of ahony.

Sade who finds it easy to produce tears from the lachrymal gland couldn't hold tears running down her unruffled cheeks.

It was more like Sade wired the tears to myself and my mom, we all started crying. Ayeni is just 7, he is too small to handle and manage this challenge, it's too much for him, his fathers demise will schlep him with trudged steps, if only he will be graced to take any.

I couldn't stop imagining losing my father at this embryonic age of mine, I begin to talk to myself.

Few minutes later, dad came in with Aduke and Lade, after which they joyfully left home to take a walk and spend time together with his daughters. But this time, his erstwhile gestures was well projected, he became so brokenhearted.

"I just received the news of the crash"; he said.

I was informed that Mr Lakowe Ayeni (Ayeni's father) was in the crash, so was his neighbor - Mr Richard.

Mother unendingly bursted out in tears, she couldn't imagine losing someone she saw few hours ago.

"I saw Mr Richard this morning, had I known I would have stopped him from going out", she said.

"These drivers ehn, at several times they're always speeding beyond limit, I heard it in the news by an eyewitness that the bus somersaulted due to bursted tyres", she angrily said..

While soaked in my tears, I was dealing with an unrest mind because I don't know how to confront Ayeni and his mother to commiserate with them.

As I wallowed in sorrow, I felt I needed to be alone, I left the gathering of my family and decided to sit by myself. Reaching outside, I realize that the entire community is brooding, it was a tearful day, there was tears everywhere.

Mr Ayeni seem to be the favorite of many, I just couldn't imagine his son being the opposite character of his him.

At the same time, as a kid, I realize two things.

People celebrate you in just two seasons.

First - The day you die.

That day even your enemy will cry, everyone will claim to love you, there will be pretence everywhere. Must people die before we celebrate their good characters and respect for humanity?

What a world filled and surrounded with hypocrisy..

Second - People celebrate you only when you win, when you're successful, when you're rich. The hypocrisy of this world gives no hope for poor people like my family.

Few days ago, I was celebrated and cheered in the community because I won a competition, I couldn't stop reminiscing that moment. Everyone was happy, even those I don't know raised cheers to my wins.

These two moments are the times people make time to say good things about you, to celebrate you and to profess their love for you.

"What a world", I emphasized..

I'll be 9 years in few days but the lessons I've learnt is truly beyond what my age could decode, I love how I've grown. It might be tough but its preparing me for adulthood.

Henceforth, I've to expect the unexpected, I've to be strong. "What if it was my dad that crashed with the bus?" I rhetorically asked myself.

This is how the world evolves, people come and go anytime.

Now, I've to summon the courage to go pay a commiserated visit to Ayeni and his mother. This time, he needs a shoulder to pillow his head.

Sade who knows how I sometimes enjoys being alone came outside to check on me at my usual spot.

She wiped my tears as she got an endless one rolling down her cheeks. This time, she counseled a counselor. I've always proven to be a strong kid but you see that of death I think I will forever find it hard to trample on its reflectiveness.

As kids, we fear death.

It breaks us apart knowing that someone dies, knowing that someone will leave and never return, we shy away from the reality that someday our parents will also die.

We often do pretend like we don't have such thoughts ruminating our medulla.

Our family seems to bear the brunt of Mr Ayeni's death most. Not because we got material things to lose but because we couldn't stop imagining the amount of qualitative effort he has infused in the life of his only child - Ayeni Tioluwanieyi.

You could see the reason why we chose to call the little kid by his last name, his first name seems too long, it actually means 'God owns this'.

There was a specific day which my family witnessed, I was followed to school by my parent so as for them to get a brief talk time with the management of the school to schedule the tuition fee payment for myself and my sisters.

Its never like Mr Ayeni had enough, in fact he had no western education. He works day and night so as to give adequate comfort to Ayeni, his mother and his environs at large.

We saw him approached his child while he emptied his pocket bringing out all the cash he got and handing it over to Ayeni's teacher. His words got us mesmerized.

He said;

"My son, you can see we don't have enough, you can see I'm yet to get my eyelids to rest, you can see how tattered I'm, please make me proud. I promise to do anything for you."

While my parents were at the side gate waiting for the principal of the school, they got swooned in the love for Mr Ayeni that they ran so emotional for him.

Now, I know why my dad told me the other day never to revenge on Ayeni. His father has stolen his heart .

Mr Lakowe Ayeni, Rest in Peace sir.