There we were (Dad and I), seated at the reception of a man whose final decision would decide my fate; whose yes or no would determine if I literally lived or died. A million thoughts ran through my head as I sat there, my eyes teary as I didn’t know why I had to go through so much pain. I knew the outcome of that meeting would either be so drastic or so ecstatic that it could make me go insane out of depression, or make me burst into laughter due to joy, laughter that the world would be unable to phantom. So as I sat there with my teary eyes, and my heart both perplexed and confused looking earnestly at the door like a man waiting for the doctor attending to his wife in labour with all the glimpse of hope he can muster, my heart raced faster with each passing moment, while my thoughts seemed to more or less freeze, as I was like a man walking on ice, unable to think, but only able to hope. I didn’t know what my life would be like if I had that negative response, I didn’t know whether to pray in my heart, or curse GOD for hating me so (which was what I thought). But then as I looked at my father and watched his hands shake, watched him struggle to hold back the tears and the pain, it hurt me even the more, but made me realise that I had to be strong for both of us. It hurt me even the more, and made me realize that no mtter how much wealth I would attain, or how much success I would get, that this man would be there for me regardless to hold my hand as I would always always be his little boy. And just then as I thought I had lost all hope, the hymn played from the mobile phone of the receptionist, and a line of her ring tone rang:
Duru Adolphus Jnr is a very interesting writer. He blogs at www.duruadolphusjnr.blogspot.com.