𝑬𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑻𝒐 𝒀𝑯𝑾𝑯

𝑰𝑰𝑰

Out of the seven days of the week Thursday and Saturday is my favorite. Maybe it had to do with the weather, or the bubbly feeling I get the moment I wake up from sleep but I could always tell that the day would be good.

I pushed the covers aside, letting my feet touch the cool marble floor of my room. With a stretch, followed by a yawn my lungs were filled with the crisp dry air of October attributed by my slightly opened window. That alone elevated my mood.

It's unexplainable but I feel like I can conquer anything this morning.

Memories of the previous night caused me to smile even as I brushed my teeth. Through the mirror my eyes looked sparkly, as if a new light had been ignited in them.

God is real.

It was hard to shake off the feeling of doubt that settled shortly after. What if it was a coincidence? What if I'm just being desperate to hold onto the truth that my mind is adamant to believe? What if he's really not out there? The explanation for the turn of events the other night could be as a result of sheer happenings.

Nothing special.

By the time I was fully clothed in my uniform consisting of a dark green pleated skirt, navy blue long sleeved shirt and a dark green blazer to go with it, my excitement dimmed. My mind had started to make me feel like a fool for believing. Instead it fed me with thoughts, reminding me that two weak instances shouldn't spark false hope in me.

Suddenly there was a loud commotion coming from outside through my window.

"You're hypocrites!"

I wanted to mind my business but it was hard when they were practically inviting everyone to listen to their conversation. Not to mention the proximity of our houses separated by only a single wall. In order to avoid being spotted I grabbed the chair in front of my desk, placed it just by the right of the open window and got to work wearing my navy blue socks and lacing my sneakers.

"He didn't mean what he said, you're just a part of the family as your sister and brother. gbe ohùn rẹ silẹ, lower your voice. Come inside, let's settle this."

"Emi ko bọ sinu ile yẹn lati gbọ ti ọkunrin yẹn sọrọ nipa iya mi ni ọna yẹn. Kii yoo ṣẹlẹ!" I recognised the angry voice as belonging to the boy from yesterday. Unfortunately I'm not fluent in Yoruba so I wasn't able to understand all of what he said.

My conclusion was that he said he won't step into the house to speak to a man about his mother that way, it won't happen.

His mother?

It was then that I recalled him saying he was their stepson. That'll make him the son of another woman, meaning Mr Adebayo had two wives.

How interesting. Maybe their perfect family is not so perfect after all.