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Shortly after I was done with my masters and I was back at my
father’s house. After staying without a job for a couple of months I
decided to take a teaching job, I taught maths/further maths at a
secondary school in kaduna. The pay at a little over 30k, was
criminally low, But under the circumstances, I was left with no
choice but to take it. I took the job just to be able to get away
from my father. As soon as I came back home after my masters,
my dad summoned me to give some new sets of rules. Rules I was
expected to adhere to if I wanted to continue living in his house.
Among the rules and regulations he laid down, I was expected to
come home before 9 pm at my age. I was expected to drive his
wife to her activities anytime she requests. Then he seemed to
always criticise my mode of dressing. Regardless of the fact that
we saw old pictures of him in black and white spotting Afros in
some tight fitted clothes back in the 70’s. He felt because he was
now born again, only the traditional way of dressing, the hausa
kaftan and cap were the only respectable mode of dressing. So he
requested that I stopped wearing T shirts and pants. As with too
many rules and regulations, breaking these rules became
inevitable. Anytime I stay out till 9 pm, I’ll come home to find our
gate locked and in the morning at my age, I was expected to
explain where I went to. There was this weekend after washing my
clothes which were mostly t shirts, I dried them on the washing
line, I came home to discover them shredded Into pieces with
scissors as a punishment for not following his rules and still
wearing them. Two of my friends on different occasions were sent
out of our house when they came to look for me. The first because
he kept an Afro and the other, because he didn’t bend down to
greet him. My father was just out to frustrate and humiliate me.
One faithful day, just because I had a little quarrel with his wife,
he gave me one week to find somewhere to stay and move out of
his house. A few days before the one week was supposed to
elapse, an appointment letter for a better paying unexpectedly
came. While I was overjoyed, I planned to report to delta state
without informing him because he kicked out of his house. My
sisters urged me to show him the letter. As usual he forbade me
from taking the job. For someone that threw me out of his house,
this man sure had a lot of guts. All my family discouraged me,
these delta people are nothing but kidnappers and militants, don’t
go, they said. manage your teaching job, god will surely bring
another job. But that job was my ticket to freedom and I didn’t
want to waste it. Leaving kaduna for delta state was the first
major decision I made for myself. That decision changed my life. I
just can’t imagine how miserable and different my life would’ve
been if I had listened to my family.

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  1. Families can be like that some time

  2. OK

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