His son, his pride

You should have seen him: he was gonna set out and conquer the world. He was gonna do things right. He was going to be the best father there was. He just wanted to do the things his father never did. Things that made him seem not less of a man but more of a human. He didn't want to hand his son the same excuse that his Dad had fed him every time he needed his presence there. Ever since he was 13, this word called father had ceased being sweet in the tongue. It was more of a command to instil fear or discipline. " You'd better do your homework or your father will make you do it," his mum would say just after he'd arrived from school. " I'm telling Dad what you did," his sister would tease just to blackmail him into what he wanted.

Things weren't always that scary or tense between them. Before they were strangers they had first been friends, the best of it. He used to come home from work and give him piggy-back rides or swing him up into the air much to his amusement. They had ice-cream weekdays, parkdays Saturdays & church Sundays. Every morning just before Dad went to work, they would brush their shoes together,straighten their ties in the mirror and dig in to breakfast side-by side. He would linger under the sink and watch him shave his beard, yearning for the day he'd be a man and his father would proudly teach him how to use a razor. When he was taking too long to come back from work, he would tear apart from his friends and stare at the road longingly. Just when he was about to give up at the first sight of dusk, the man of the house would show up carrying a newspaper and something in the bag. You should have seen those little limbs tear off at the sight of him, hurriedly pursued by his little sisters who sang choruses of joy. " Daddy, chololo!" When he went for his frequent safaris, he would sneak into his parents bedroom to try on his gigantic shoes and marvel at how great his daddy was. How Mummy was always so happy when he was around.

Yeah, the good old days. His memory of all this was fuzzed up by what was to follow. He couldn't exactly trace why or how, but Daddy changed. He was no longer as warm and close. He badly wanted to blame it on his being an adolescent, the need to learn his lessons of manhood were best met by his father being strict. But then why was he also cold to his sisters, and mother? They avoided him like plague, only approaching him when they needed the money or something else. His mother was all the more understanding but she didn't help the situation. She gave an excuse or a warning for every little drama that unfolded.He hated him, how could he ever have loved ion those photos that teased him?

THE BEAN IS PLANTED

"So we start tomorrow at 3pm?" she asks with those innocent piercing eyes that leave you with no room to maneuvre for a declination.
"Sure, 3pm," I half-heartedly reply in what has become my thinking pose. My eyes look lazy as I run through my entire schedule for the day. What in the blazes can a full-time student like me be thinking when I sign up for more on my "to-do" list? I joined this club to get a life, not have the remnants of it snatched away from me. But here I was being me. Too timid to say no. We left that evening determined not to let her down. On the bright side, it meant our pockets would be happier. No wait, that's incorrect. The club's pockets would be lined but eventually ours would be lined because we were the club and anything the club did, we got to shine.
Still did not make sense the next day. At 3p.m., it got even more confusing so I ducked to the health unit. What with this excuse of a cold, I had apologised and sneaked myself of maid duty. One day down, many more to go. Many did indeed come but I always found an excuse to worm out of it. Maybe if I found a way to share in the profits, maybe if I did not have the indignity to admit that I was missing class to do this- SELL COFFEE! Why did it have to be in front of all our friends? Why did we have to carry that big urn around all day and beg, literally beg our friends to buy? Who buys coffee anyway, why at that price? Just full of excuses. If only I knew how bad life was about to make me eat humble pie, I would stop acting like I am full of myself.