Archive for November, 2012

Another Wasted Saturday

“I hate you.”
“I hate you”, those heavy words pounded in her head repeatedly like a relentless pendulum reminding the world of the sun’s cruelty at noon time. The words struck straight through the heart of Joke, it wouldn’t have mattered if it came from any other mortal, it came from Sam; her only daughter.

Samantha was birthed at the twilight of a blissful short lived romance. Joke and Daniel met during a youth camp programme and a cloud of passion and desire flooded the sky, raining down heavy feelings that seemed unquenchable. There were inseparable and so into each other that they couldn’t wait to consummate each other. When they made love, it was transcendental; her soul took hold of him and, unaware of the passage of time, they basked in the affection they had. Every moment was filled with sunshine, moonlight and a million stars. It was pure magic: Until her ‘period’ went covert.

Joke told Daniel about her pregnancy, expecting love and acceptance, but was greeted with a bouquet of rejection and hostility. Her misery gathered pace when he vanished like a healthy pee in a vast ocean of coloured waters. Then it hit her, the unrealness of the romance and the intensity of the passion had left vital stones unturned. She brought forth a baby girl and raised her the best way she could; little did she know her best wasn’t enough to cut the mustard by her daughter’s unicorn standards. Her inability to consciously appreciate male attention led to her perennial spinsterhood and she took it out on Sam.

The last product of civilisation is the intelligent use of leisure, and that was all Samantha wanted: A break. She saw her mother as cold, unloving, non-sympathetic and inherited the sole ownership of the real estate of deep misery; she even seemed unhappy about her own very smile. Her mother blamed her for everything and she never understood why they had to endure such strained relationship. Both of them never agreed on any topic, in any sphere, not even about sun and moon regime. Her mother saw her as a remnant of a derelict father, on occasions she would call her Daniel while beating the living daylight out of her daughter. Samantha developed a thick skin.

Sam wished she could hate the woman that conveyed her from being an egg to being a life, but she couldn’t justify why her mother even deserved the hatred; her scale was tilted more towards apathy. She desperately wished she could find a way out of it. When mother and child are out in front of friends, they act normal with smiles adorning their faces as they parade their unnoticeable false happiness. Two adults under the same roof speaking the same language but were fundamentally incompatible; a collection of contrarieties.

The sun was just overhead, and even the spirits would dread the hovering heat, when both of them had to go to a wedding in their local church.
“Go change that dress, I don’t like that colour” barked out Joke at Sam
“No, I’m not 3. I wear what I want to wear” replied Sam in a rebellious tone
“Is that how you would talk back to me? no respect whatsoever”
“Free me abeg”
“Maybe he knew I’d produce a rude uncultured girl like you, that’s why your father probably ran away” Joke said with all conviction and no remorse in her voice
“I hate you” Sam screamed at her mother.

Joke stood awe struck by the car as her child had thrust the ultimate indignity upon her. Two lonely shadows cast on the floor by their figures as they both stood staring at each other. Sam ran back into the house with her face in her palms and slammed the door to her room. The wedding wouldn’t be graced with their presence, but such was nothing new. It was just another wasted Saturday.