Mr. Obeng was what I’ll call a green snake under green grass. To the outside, he was a poor widower who was taking good care of his only daughter and child, Awuraa. No one except Awuraa knew that inside the beautifully decorated exterior of Mr. Obeng’s closet were hideous skeletons. So it wasn’t surprising when her eyes remained dry after right before her, the man she had hardly called father writhed in pain and cried repentantly into the next world.
Some minutes after it was all over, Awuraa felt numb. She stared at the lifeless body of the once powerful man and her mind did the usual flashback thing. It had not been like that when her mother was alive. Theirs was a happy family. They did things together, supported one another and it was all love and sunshine. Then it all came to an abrupt end when she died. Mrs. Magdalene Obeng’s death was mourned by all and sundry. She was a kind-hearted woman and was a role-model to many young girls including Awuraa herself. Even after death, people still respected her. Awuraa finally shed some tears but more for the sweet memories of such a great woman who had been in her life but for a short while.
She was nine when her mother died, and for about a year after, father and daughter consoled each other. Everyone thought Awuraa was lucky to have such a father. And yes, she felt lucky herself then. When she was ten years old and for nine years since then, the whole scene changed. That day, she came back from school to find her dad already home, preparing supper. She went about her usual chores and hummed to herself as she always did. She remembered her father was rather absent-minded that day, but she attributed it to tiredness. She soon understood his strange behaviour when after supper, he ordered her to use his bathroom when she had said she was going to take her bath. She thought it strange but once again, she paid no attention to it. It was while she was bathing that Mr. Obeng entered the bathroom and what was he wearing?...Nothing!
At this point, Awuraa closed her eyes and kept them tightly shut. She feared she would go into hysteria if she allowed her mind to torture her so. She walked into the kitchen, away from the body that was grotesquely spread on the dining room carpet. She poured herself a glass of water and there she was again. Little Awuraa vividly embedded in her memories. She couldn’t help it: she knew she had to let her mind do its own thing. And so of course, it continued...Mr. Obeng had entered the bathroom butt-naked with a straight face and burning eyes that could singe the hair off Awuraa’s flesh. Little Awuraa was dumb-founded. She was holding the wet soapy sponge to her chest and as the lather slipped down her young firm thighs, Mr. Obeng turned hard with desire. Awuraa flinched as she watched the frightful transformation of his manhood. He walked straight to her and took her soapy, fragile hand. The sponge fell with a thud at her feet. Her knees buckled as her father placed her hand around his maleness and slid it back and forth. He moaned unashamedly and Awuraa cried in her confused state. He closed his eyes and kept repeating, “My little girl. I love you my little girl. I love you.” He went tense, let out a deep guttural groan and then relaxed, leaving Awuraa’s fingers dripping with his semen. He paid no attention to that or her tears. He just patted her bare buttocks and without a word, walked out, leaving his ten-year-old to ruminate on what had happened.
Awuraa gulped the water down her sore throat. It was choked with sobs. She cried for little Awuraa. She could see her crouched on her bed, crying hysterically. It had been the beginning of something new and unpleasant. Each night, it became her responsibility to do whatever her father wanted. For nine years she had to live with the pain and the shame. She sometimes thought it was her fault and that she was being ungrateful because her father gave her everything she needed, everything but love. She couldn’t tell anyone. She went through it all alone, and as every day passed, she hated the man more and more.
Because she looked forward to a brighter future, she put her all in her education. She managed through basic school to senior high. When she had results for the external exams, her joy knew no bounds. She had passed so well, all she could think of was; going to the University and finally, most importantly, leaving home. This dream threatened to flow right down the drain when she discovered she was pregnant. She was carrying her father’s child. She couldn’t take it anymore; it was time for the man to listen to her. One morning, she looked directly into his eyes and threatened to tell the whole world what he had done. She flatly refused to get rid of the baby. Mr. Obeng was clearly shaken. He had to do something and he had to make it quick.
To top up all evil, he brought home the next day, some food. He had one purposefully for his daughter. He first put up a great show of apologising to her, shedding a few tears. Awuraa was surprised but she said nothing. He then asked her to join him for dinner, to which she obliged. He was so nervous while setting the table that, he placed the one meant for Awuraa at his side of the table. When she got to the dining room, Awuraa sat at her usual place and started to eat. In his haste to get everything over and done with, Mr. Obeng forgot how he had placed the food so he also sat and started eating.
He kept looking at his daughter, waiting for a sign. The man who had sold him the drug had said it worked really fast. Then he felt it; the pain and also realizing the truth. His eyes dilated to splitting point and welled up with tears. His whole life flashed before his eyes as he doubled over in pain. He could feel the heat of hellfire already. And looking into the confusion-dazed eyes of his daughter staring down at him, he started crying bitterly. It reminded him of that look. That same look in her eyes the day he started going mad. He confessed through his tears that it was he who had caused his impending death by attempting to poison her. The expressionless face of his daughter, looking down at his contorted face was the last he saw before he became silent... silent forever.
Awuraa rubbed her slightly bulged belly unconsciously and wiped her tears. She dialled the police emergency number as a smile played on her lips. She had remembered the popular Akan proverb that says, “Woto aduro bↄne a, ebi ka woano.”
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