Author: Jenn Azu We were all finally assembled by his bedside at the hospital. It was much work to get the entire family members Papi requested at his sickbed but through teamwork and some sacrifice on the part of a few of us, it was achieved. By this time, Papi looked very weak and in much pain. We had been told he could pass on anytime. Papi gently raised his right hand and held my youngest sister’s hand, Lola, as he spoke softly. She was his next favorite after his oldest girl, Adebisi. As Papi spoke to Lola, I could only pick up a few of his words mostly because I was suddenly feeling sick. A heaviness settled on me that I could not shake. Almost at the same time, I started feeling pressure at the back of my head and tightness in my chest. Yet, none of those feelings afflicted me like the thoughts in my head. Papi is our father who suddenly took ill a few months ago. Many resources have been poured into his health with the hope that he will recover but to no avail. Now, we are left with preparing ourselves for his death and everyone appear to be taking it well except me. Dad took turn with each one of us kids giving his blessings and advice. He started with Jide, our oldest brother and although, he went in order of our age as he addressed us, he spoke to me, his second oldest child, last. “Dan, take care of yourself and be strong for your mother. Always remember that I am leaving here to go stay with Christ until I can see you all again…” Dad took a break to gather his strength before continuing. “My son, if you decide to give Christ a chance in your life, be rest assured I will see you again or else goodbye.” He concluded with a weak smile before turning his attention away from me. At this, I felt weak as the pain in me worsened. I had had dad preach to me a million times but I couldn’t understand why his last words hit me so hard. “Goodbye?” I thought “Why would he say that to me?” A part of me wanted to brush my thoughts aside but I struggled greatly. “Common Dan! This is a dying man saying farewell. How else is he supposed to say it?” “Yeah, but he said goodnight to everyone else.” I continued to argue with myself. I noticed the kindness in his eyes and the gentleness on his face which radiated pure love when he spoke to Jide. “Good night Jide.” Papi had said to him. Jide rubbed dad’s arm almost tearful. They stared at each other lovingly and would have hugged but for the various tubbings connected to dad to sustain him. He showed similar tenderness towards everyone else too. I couldn’t take it anymore. I moved closer to his bedside and snatched his hand away from Lola’s grip before falling to my knees. Surprisingly, no one attempted to stop me. “Why would you say ‘Goodnight’ to everyone but say goodbye to me?” Why daddy? Tell me, Why?” I wept aloud. My heart aching from sorrow. Papi started to weep as well. “I shall see them again! I shall see the righteous again! But sin can never enter there! Sin can never never enter there” He said, with a loudness that somewhat shocked me. How is his frail voice suddenly gaining strength? But then, he started to cough and my mom pushed me aside to attend to him. Almost immediately, his nurse entered and tried to stabilize him while we looked on helplessly. I stood there watching fearfully, momentarily forgetting my pain but feeling overcome with guilt. The nurse managed to get him to stop coughing and advised that no one bother him any further till he can get some sleep. Like the banging of our church bell, the pain in my head returned, this time worse. I could not bring myself to talk to anybody about my pain. I felt it could be part of my punishment for being a source of grieve. I turned around, pushed my way through the small mournful crowd and hurried out of the room and to the main entrance. * * * * * * * * A few years ago, I got tired of my family’s religious ways and wanted out. We are a family of six and devout Baptist Christians. My father was an elder at our church who perfectly fits the biblical qualification of one; a faithful husband, well behaved gentleman who has a well behaved family etcetera. At first, I was a good kid, in the Christian’s definition of “a good kid,” but my life was a routine that revolved around school, home and church. My discontentment started when I was about 10 years old. At that time, I was just becoming self conscious and remember struggling with not fitting in at school and being bullied. Actually, I didn’t make much friends because my siblings and I were cautioned at home not to mingle with unbelievers. “They are bad influences.” My parents would say. The problem however was, it was hard to tell who was or wasn’t an unbeliever and the concept “believer” to me just meant people who lived life like my family did, so I didn’t talk to many people. You could palpate my joy when I found out one day that my classmate, Sam, is from a “believer” home. You guessed right! I made him my friend but not for long. My mother dropped in at school the following week to say hi and I took the opportunity to introduce Sam to her. If it was to show off how well I was doing socially, I still can’t tell but she started questioning the boy almost immediately. “Hello Sam, how are you?” Mom started “Doing very well ma’am.” He replied courteously. “Where does
