three moments

impact

As the morning sun streamed into the room, my mother returned from my uncle's house, trying to wake me up. Perhaps my father wondered what was going on, why my mother was waking me up so early.

He asked, "What happened? Why did you come here so early in the morning?"

My mother replied, "Ask your son about it."

I stayed hidden in my room, feigning sleep. However, my mother seemed to know that I was awake and started recounting the events of the previous night to my father, emphasizing that he should hear it too.

After sharing everything, she turned to my father and said loudly, "Ask him what's going on." I didn't venture out of my room and continued with my pretense of sleeping. But my mother, knowing that I was listening, recounted the whole incident to my father in an effort to ensure I heard every detail.

As she continued, her voice grew louder, and she wanted me to hear every bit of it. "Does he even know? Does he know how his father reached this position? How he achieved all this? He worked tirelessly from a young age, doing everything from farming to laboring to studying late into the night. Back when he was your age, he was already taking on the responsibility of the family. He didn't shy away from any work. He understood the weight of his responsibilities. Even when he was studying, he made sure to contribute to the family. He worked in the fields first thing in the morning, fearing that if his father saw him studying during daylight hours, his books might be torn apart again. He was determined to make his mark, to ensure that his younger siblings didn't suffer as he had. And what has he been doing? Running around with friends, neglecting his studies, and acting irresponsibly. He has no idea about the struggles we faced to get where we are today. He needs to understand his duties and responsibilities."

My father, growing concerned, asked, "What happened that you had to come here so early in the morning?"

My mother responded, "Ask your son about it."

I remained inside my room, maintaining my facade of sleep. But my mother was relentless, narrating the whole story of the previous night, explaining my actions and reactions to my father.

After she finished, she turned to me and said, "He should know what you've done."

I finally emerged from my room, still not making eye contact. My father's gaze fixed on me, his face a mix of concern and curiosity.

She added, "You should ask him about it."

My father finally addressed me, "What happened, son? Why did you come here so early?"

I hesitated before replying, "I... I had some things on my mind."

My mother continued, "Don't just ask him about this morning. Ask him what he plans to do next."

My father, now looking directly at me, asked, "What are your plans for the future?"

I responded, "I'm pursuing a B.Sc. degree."

He inquired further, "And what do you intend to do after that?"

The question, one I had grown to resent, sparked a surge of frustration within me. But this time, I decided to respond differently. "I'll see what I can do."

My father's expression softened as he recalled his own struggles and sacrifices. "You know, your mother worked so hard to get you into science. She believed in you. How can you give up on something you once wanted? Your choices impact not only you but the whole family."

My mother interjected, "He needs to understand his responsibilities. He can't keep going on like this. We gave him opportunities, and he should make the most of them."