My 'Father'

It has been a couple of months for me to embrace Christianity. I try to hide it in the beginning, but paper can’t wrap up the fire, the secret eventually reaches my father. The people start to dump me aside. My friends? My Family? Everyone seems like talking behind me and trying to stab-back me. Am I doing the wrong things? Am I considered as betraying my own culture? Am I? No! I am an adult now! I must be firm to my decision. I have the rights to choose my own believe. I can't accept that 'killing people is  fine’ which is prevalent in my culture. I cannot compromise with the verdict of the Oracle and the Egwuwu which can determine a man, either to be sinful or not. As for now, I believe I can find my own way in Christianity. Jesus will help me to bear the suffering of my life. He will save me and bring me to the correct pathway.

My family members start ignoring me including my wicked father and sisters. I don't understand and don’t need them to understand why I need to make such a big change in my life. They won’t support my changes; instead they will curse me for the name of betraying my own Igbo traditions. For me, they are really square-minded and conservative. I am sick of the taboo, and I want go get rid of that. I want to have a happier life. I need freedom and rights to voice up my opinions and question on anything which I face is inappropriate. As expected, my father chases me out from the obi a few days later. But, who cares? It is perfectly fine for me. My Christian friends will let me to stay at their house. I even feel more comfortable with them. I’m like actually at seventh heaven when I finally escape from the shadow of him. He is not my father! He is just a devil for me! I want to let them know even I have embraced Christianity; I am still alive and living happily in my own way.

                                                                         

I am wondering. Why the things around keep falling apart? Sooner or later, I’m taken aback of the news. I can't believe that my father has just passed away. I hear from my friend that he just hangs on himself. As a son, I think I know him better than anyone else. His whole life is tainted with the will to be successful and wealthy. He is actually afraid of failure. He is that kind of perfectionist. He demands everything is perfectly done. If there is anything wrong, he will straight away go mad and crazy. The death of my father has inspired me and strengthens my will to trust my faith. I believe that everyone has their own weakness and feelings, so they should not hide their emotions including a male character. A man can be as gentle as a woman; a man can also be a musician if he has that particular talent. Why not? Why not we make a difference in our own lives since we only live once. Since then, I promise myself, I will be strong to face the challenges in my life. I will be strong to protect my rights and faith. I believe in what doesn’t kill you make you stronger. My journey of searching my faith will continue until the end of my days, how about yours?

The Grudge

It has been months of Ikemefuna's death. Losing him is like having a deep scar on my body. I am like been thrown into the darkness. There is no light, no love, no hope... At the very first beginning when he is not besides me, I feel like losing the direction of life. Sooner or later, I realize that I am actually assuming him as my brother to look up to. I am some sort of depending on him, learning how to be a real man to please my father, to please my society, to please everyone. The time passes like a blink of an eye, it has been one year of my brother's death. But, I'm still haunted by the tragedy every night. Sometimes, I do feel like: the life is meaningless? Can I just kill myself to wash away all of the the unhappiness and hatred feelings in my deep recesses? I am like hovering between the life and death.

As for my evil father, I can't actually forgive him. 'How could he do this to him? Won't he feel desperate of losing his son? The questions as such keep on filling my thoughts. I hate my dad, I hate the villagers around who are trying to justify the death of Ikemefuna, I hate the Igbo religious customs. I know I shouldn't think this way. But I can't! I can't stop myself from questioning my father's capability. I even start believing that the order from the Oracle of Hill is not necessarily to be obeyed. Why should this kind of rules still exist in this world? Why must we follow the order blindly even though we need to do inhuman things? Does it really make sense? Taking someone's life is not as easy as like breaking a glass. 'Never take someone for granted, hold every person close to your heart, because you might wake up one day and realize that you've lost a diamond', I always say to myself.

The grudge towards my tradition continues to expand. I start to question everything which is considered as the untouchable in our society. I’m starting to question the validity of lyi-uwa and Ogbanje? Why everyone thinks that Ogbanje can reincarnate itself only to die again as a baby? I have actually witnessed the truth by myself. The so-called “Ogbanje” which is believed to be my sister shows the people the location of the Iyi-ugwa. After much deliberation, she decides on a spot in the forest and the medicine man begins to dig. All of the bystanders, except for me, go off to the side leaving the medicine man do his work. Therefore, I’m the only one who realizes that the Iyi-uwa is actually planted in that spot by the medicine man. Besides, there are some 'English men' come to me and keep on persuading me to join their religion. I’m really puzzled, but the change to the religion is yet to be considered. I don't like the killing culture. I don’t like the immorality of my society. I want to have a great change of their thinking. Finally, the illegitimacy of the Iyi-uwa, along with the practice of killing twins babies, and the murder of Ikemefuna tears a gaping hole into my faith; and this hole will be filled by a new religion - Christianity.