na wa o

nice update ma,we appreciate. Chuma,tanks 4 being there 4 Isi who's going through alot now,but i'm hopeful it will leave her a better person.

ure too much safari

That was an amazing update. I wish it continued beyond where it stopped. U never disappoint with the characters in ur story. Always have a way moving ur readers. Thanks Safarigirl.MERRY CHRISTMAS.

Happy New Year Guys



*****Chapter 6*****


It’s been a while since I came here last, not that much has changed since then, but still, it’s an odd feeling when you’re in a familiar place you haven’t been to in a while, I think with just a modicum of regret how much I’ve retrogressed in my ways….the changes having a child to care for and a constant pain in the butt to put in his place can cause in one’s life are enormous. There was a time it used to be just me and Gladys keeping each other company, calling each other up and seeking each other’s opinions, the fact that two males have more or less caused a distance, no matter how little between us, is testament to the destructive tendencies in men and of course, my obvious retrogression.

A year ago, I wouldn’t have even considered the possibility of having a male anywhere around me, even less two, and to think one of them is a fully adult male is even more startling…..worse still, he has more or less occupied Gladys’ post as my confidant and in my defense, it’s not because I want it so, he just has a way of poking into my business and prodding for information until I have no other choice but to spill my guts.

What I’m here for today though, is a far more important topic and I will need Gladys’ opinion more than anyone else’s even though the chief interrogator has done well to drop his uncalled for opinion.

I’m conflicted, I normally am not indecisive like this, but it can’t be helped in certain situations like this unfamiliar bind I’ve found myself in. I’ve been so anxious since I and Chuma spoke to Toriola, waiting for Gladys’ return because I honestly think she’s the only one I’m going to listen to as far as this new development goes, even though something tells me she’ll probably reiterate what Chuma has been harping in my ears the other week, I still want her advise and consent. My biological father may have finally appeared in the picture, but I’m not uncertain on who my real parent is and it will be disrespectful to make any decisions before getting her wise counsel as well as her blessings.

The object of my thoughts finally comes to the backyard where I’ve been sitting and waiting for her to bring in her customary freshly made orange and pineapple juice with lime, she doesn’t have any perceived important conversations inside the house or without a drink. Something about wanting people to release tension by admiring the outdoors and sipping on a healthy drink, although a bit unconventional, I think it works- at least on me.

She drops both our glasses on the small wooden stool between us and takes her seat with a sigh. The two week trip seems to have done her some good; she’s so much more livelier and brighter as well, she doesn’t have that tired look in her eyes, it was so obvious that she felt tired before she travelled beneath all of her smiles and laughter, I’m glad she’s regained herself.

“You look great mother.” I compliment her.

“Oh, it’s no doing of mine dear, it’s the Lord’s grace in my life” she gleams. I nod, it’s always the Lord in her life as far as Gladys is concerned, even when she’s having troubles, it’s the Lord testing her faithfulness…and she smiles through it all. I wish I had her strength.

She adjusts her seating position until she’s facing me and places her clasped hands on her laps, “So, what is this important thing that happened while I was away?” she asks with a warm smile.

I didn’t tell her anything that happened, and thankfully, Chuma had the sense to not tell what was my tale to tell, “Someone called me, a private investigator, and he told me that he was hired by a certain Mr. Isama who happens to be my biological father to look for me. So, I and Chuma, we went to see the man last week and he showed me pictures of the man and….and his family. I don’t think I want to meet them.” I finish, unwilling to go into any details concerning how rejected I felt at seeing my father’s happy family. The funny thing is, whether I admit it to Gladys or not, she always reads between my lines and understands unspoken words, she and Chuma have that uncanny gift.

She keeps a neutral expression until I mention my unwillingness to meet with my father and his family, her face contorts into one of mild surprise, “Why not dear?” she asks

I just stare at her for a while, she’s not even a little pissed that some man had emerged from some hole to claim me at his daughter, it’s not like Gladys gets angry a lot, I can say I haven’t seen her mad more than five times in all my years of knowing her, but still, just this once, I would like or expect some form of outrage on her part. How come nobody seems to share in my disagreement in all of this?

I shrug my shoulders and mutter some inaudible jargons, but give no further explanation. I just don’t want to meet the man, I don’t think it’s necessary and I’ll be glad to just shove this episode under a thick carpet and act like it never happened- like I never got the chance to meet my biological father.

Gladys sits at the edge of her chair and reaches out for my hands, “Isidore, look at me.”

I raise sad eyes to look straight at the woman I’ve called mother for over ten years, the woman that has been more of a mother to me than my own real mother. I don’t even know why anyone will want me to see the man who left me to that witch and her schemes. What kind of father abandons his child and then returns over twenty years later to make amends? He will never be able to make amends for the pain and hurt I suffered or the consequences of all of the molestation I suffered as a child, it would be better if we never even met.

“I know how you feel, I know what is going through your mind right now. You’re angry, and you’re not wrong to be angry at him or at the troubles the world has given you, but you have to let go of that anger my child. You cannot achieve your true potential, you cannot fulfill your purpose for being on earth when you’re filled with anger. God doesn’t want you to be angry….”

“God doesn’t understand….” The words come in a choke. As much as I try to stop myself from getting emotional, I can’t help it. the activities of the past two weeks have really taken a toll on me, on my concentration, my organization, everything is just muddled up and it’s all because he showed up. I was fine before him. FINE!, “…..God…doesn’t understand how much pain I suffered, he doesn’t understand the things I had to do to survive, I was eight mother, EIGHT! What kind of God allows an eight year old go through all of that pain?” I sobbed

She places a warm hand on my cheek and wipes a tear lovingly, “God never wishes for harm to fall on his children, but in life, some things have to happen, even his son, Jesus Christ, had to endure humiliation, beatings and nailing upon a cross. God knows you’ve been through a lot Isi, and he understands that you have to heal, you have to experience peace in your heart and your soul and that is why he has brought your father to you. You have to see him.”

I close my eyes and allow the tears of pent up frustration, anger, helplessness roll down my face. I want to counter everything Gladys has said, but I can’t even bring myself to do that. A little voice in my head tells me she’s right, but the more rebellious side of me doesn’t want to believe her or acknowledge the fact that here is truth to her words.

“You have to see your father, you need that closure. You will never move forward without knowing and understanding his motives for not reaching out to you all these years, all of this paranoia you harbor and your hate for men, this is the last step you must take to wash it away. You cannot run away from your destiny.”

I shake my head, but my heart knows the truth, it doesn’t matter how many times I try to convince myself that I’m doing the right thing, I’m not. I’m scared and my fear is pushing me to make hasty and eventually foolish calls. I don’t want to look back on my life and have to list this as a regret as well. I may never get another opportunity to meet my father or ask him questions that have plagued me since I learnt of his rejection. Maybe I do need this closure, what I fear is the possibility that he may not have the answers I need, that he may look at me and realize that I’m a waste anyway and reject me once again. He already has his family and a young, beautiful unblemished daughter who he can always make amends with. I’m nobody to him, he doesn’t know me, he’s never met me. What if I don’t measure up to his standards? I can’t bear to be rejected again, I can’t bear to be looked upon with disdain or disgust. I don’t want to put myself in such a situation, it would put the nail on an already solid coffin for me.

“Isidore, open your eyes.” Gladys’ soft voice filters into my ears, I’m not even aware I have kept my eyes close all this time. I reluctantly open them and stare at her with reddened eyes, her smile hasn’t faltered, “You’re a very beautiful woman Isi, and as your mother, I’m proud of who you have become despite the adversities. I’m proud because I know that you’re fighting this thing, you’re fighting the darkness and you’re killing it slowly. I know you will eventually have victory over it, and meeting your father is a necessary step towards that victory. You’re a smart, intelligent and successful woman that any one will be proud to have as a daughter, never fear rejection of man. Remember that even if he is your biological father, your true father is far greater than any man, and as long as you have God with you, nobody else should hold more importance in your life.”

I nod, desperate for that little kick, that dose of motivation and morale booster. Even if he doesn’t like me, I’m not an unfortunate soul. I have a family, I have people who love and care for me and have accepted me flaws and all, it will be his loss. Yes, I’m not a reject. The thought causes another sob tio rack through my being. I am loved, loved by people who are related solely through circumstances and not blood, even without having to love me, even when they could have abandoned me to my fate or discharged me at their convenience, they’ve never made me feel unwelcome. They’ve never judged me or questioned me, they’ve shown me nothing but love and understanding, so, what will it matter if this man doesn’t want me? I’m the one with the power to reject, not him. I have all the cards .

She places a kiss atop my forehead and pulls me into a warm embrace, I sob into her shoulder a bit longer, grateful for the respite and for her presence in my life. I can honestly day that if not for this woman, I would be dead by now, either by the hands of a random stranger or by my own hands. The one who gave me a reason to live has endorsed me, no other person ‘s opinion matters in my life. Not even my father’s

Yay! My favorite story is being updated. Happy new year safarigirl

Beautiful way to start the year. Happy new year Safarigirl.

Sgirl......always on point.
Beautiful update.

dis story is soo touching.....kiip calm isi

I am so touched. A turning point for Isidore

I never knew i will meet up with the magnificent brilliant piece....... Happy new year to u anty safari lovely piece u ve got here

d story is so touching. welldone ma

happy new year safarigirl...

happy new year err'one


#tormented. ....hmmm. ....

lost in the mystery of words


touching update to start the year with
keep em coming safari...,
still I follow

Sisi Safari why's it taking u sooooo long to make an update?

Safarigirl

JeffreyJamez:
Safarigirl

sorry. Had to overcome writer's block and I've been in school and haven't been able to type anything because of the type of phone I use

Just got home this weekend, will type on a lappy and post an update tomorrow. I'm very sorry for the late update

safarigirl:
sorry. Had to overcome writer's block and I've been in school and haven't been able to type anything because of the type of phone I use

Just got home this weekend, will type on a lappy and post an update tomorrow. I'm very sorry for the late update

No shakes dear....take your time...I been think say you Don abandon am o Lol.....

Good 2 hear from u again Safarigirl. Great work u av going. God bless!

welcome back and patiently waiting for the update

****

Have you ever felt an anxiety so deep it’s like you could faint and go into a coma for at least a week? A tension so great, it riddles your entire being, leaving you feeling light-headed and choking for breath? Has your mind ever been so occupied that you can’t even sit straight for a minute?

That’s exactly how I’ve felt since I called the PI my father hired and informed him that I’m willing to have a meeting with my father three days ago, he set a date for today and I’ve just been watching the clock since I got out of bed. I don’t think I’ve slept since that day, I’m anxious, uncertain and even as I’ve tried my all to push it away, I can’t stop that little bit of fear rearing it’s ugly head, just gloating at me and I hate that this is all happening to me.

I’ve placed myself in a precarious situation, one I’m largely unfamiliar with. I don’t remember a time I’ve gotten myself in a fix I can’t….fix, I’m not one to dive into a pit of lions blindfolded, I like to take into cognizance, the dangers I’m likely to face, I study my opposition, I become aware of every minute detail attached to whatever I have plans to conquer and usually, I come out victorious, but this time, I’ve found myself- for all intents and purposes- blindfolded and using my hands to feel my way around. For someone who is so meticulous with planning, I’m understandably uneasy about what I’m about to do.

I’ve been questioning my resolve in the past 72 hours, thinking of the wisdom in seeing this man. It doesn’t even matter to me that Gladys and Chuma have endorsed the meeting, I still question it’s purpose. Do I even need to see him? would it not be better if I just hold on to the knowledge of his existence and save myself whatever unforeseen circumstances that could arise from this meeting? I hate to imagine that the beautiful horse I’m set to be presented with could turn out to be an ugly beast eventually. The memories I have of my mother are tainted and fill me with loathing, I do not think I have any ill thoughts of my father yet….well, none that may have been as a result of his direct conduct, do I want to ruin that? Do I want to meet this man and discover he’s just like the other dirty scum? Do I want to be hit with the reality that not all men are like Chuma?

I still the thought once it comes to my head and quickly erase it, I needn’t make him some model person in my imagination. He has his flaws too, maybe nothing glaring, but I’m sure there’s a chip in his perfect suit of armor somewhere and I will find it soon enough, I just need to bid my time.

The continuous ticking of the clock serves to further aggravate me, funny how you never notice such things until you’re drowning in anxiety and anticipation. I wonder for the hundredth time- or more, why Chuma is yet to show up. I’m well aware I specifically instructed him to be here not earlier than the stroke of twelve, but when I said that, I hadn’t taken into consideration the possibility of being swallowed into a state of nervousness. This will surely b e a good time for him to show up uncharacteristically earlier than planned.

I pick up my phone to call him, but I drop it immediately as if it scalds me and chastise myself, it’s a few minutes to twelve, he’s most likely on his way. He called me earlier this morning, but I ignored his call, I was not in the right state of mind to answer a call. I still am not.

The thought barely crosses my mind when I hear the very familiar and welcome sound of his car engine approaching. Before I can stop myself, I run to the window to peep for confirmation. Sure enough, the maroon-coloured jeep is right in my driveway. My eyes shoot back to the wall clock, he’s about twelve minutes early. A small part of me is glad he didn’t take my words seriously, but another part is annoyed for the same reason. I huff to myself, just like him to not heed my words. He must think of me as the little kid who likes to throw their weight around and he’s the reasonable adult putting the kid in her place.

I watch him step out his car, the man could be stepping out a jalopy and still make it look cool. He’s dressed in a pair of fitted black denim paired with a white polo with short sleeves that instantly attract the eyes to toned, muscular arms.

I quickly draw the curtains close to stop my inappropriate perusal of Chuma. I can’t fathom why he still has this effect on me, I shouldn’t have a shiver of excitement running through me at the sight of him, neither should I feel parched. I honestly need to get this thing with my father over with, that way I can get rid of Chuma faster and we can return to the status quo I’m most comfortable with.

Two firm knocks at my door break me out of my trance. I take my time going to the door to answer, not just to help me calm down, but also to settle my jumbled thoughts so I don’t look or sound like an idiot when I see him, and like I’ve realized these past months, hostility is the only way I can mask my true feelings in Chuma’s presence.

He knocks again just before I get to the door and I frown at the insistent knocking, one would think I’m a defaulting tenant and he’s the frustrated landlord with the way he’s knocking.

I open the door and open my mouth to speak but he beats me to it pretty quickly, “Why aren’t you picking your calls?” he asks as he all but shoves me out of the way to get into the house.

I stand at the entrance momentarily stunned at his rudeness, I’m starting to question my ownership of this house with the manner with which Chuma exercises his liberties around here, did he just walk past me, into my house without so much as a greeting?

“Close the door Isi, flies are coming in”

The sound of his voice draws me out of my state of shock. I slam the door and turn around to face him, I honestly underestimate Chuma’s use in my life, within less than a minute of coming he has managed to make me forget all about my state of nervousness and has replaced it with anger, he really is a charmer.

“You should address me with some respect considering you’re in my house and I could throw you out whenever I wish.” I spit at him.

He raises a perfectly arched brow at me, the only other person I can think of that can raise a brow in that way is Dwayne Johnson, but it looks so much better on Chuma as much as that kills me to admit, “That’s rich, considering how respectful you’ve been towards me the past two years.” He shoots back

Oh he has some nerve this one, I open my mouth to speak, but words fail me. I think I’m flabbergasted at this point, “Really? You’re going to suddenly pull out a file now?”

“No, I just want to know why you haven’t picked my calls today, thought you had done something silly.”

“Well, I didn’t pick your call so it’s safe to assume I’ve done nothing silly.”

He stares at me for a while and then lets out a pleasing sound that washes over me- what most people would call a chuckle if you may, he walks- or strides more of, to where I’m standing and invades my personal space, normally I would step back. I feel very uncomfortable having anyone taller than me standing so close, especially if said person is a male, it’s a deep-rooted fear from when I was a child, but my daily interactions with the resident Hulk has expunged that fear from me- either that or it gives me a thrill testing my limits with this particular man.

“As much as I would love to engage you in a battle of words Isidore, I regretfully cannot be your entertainment for today……”

“You must be deluded if you ever thought yourself entertaining.” Like I said, it ‘s sort of a sick hobby of mine to just get on the nerves of a 6ft4”, muscled man

“I think Ismail would disagree with you, do I bore you?”

I may be wrong- which I hardly ever am- but I believe this man is trying to turn the tables on me….but of course he is, he’s a law enforcement officer, turning tables on people is part of his job description, “I’ll get my bag, we’re running late.” I reply. I move to walk past him, but he has his hand wrapped around my wrist before I can go far.

“Running away again Isi?”

“From what?” I spit, I seem to be the one whose nerves are getting stepped on in all of this, why do I let him get to me so easily?

“From your feelings.”

Something tells me I won’t like wherever this is going, “We’re running late Chuma.” Like I have learnt with him, whenever I have a bad feeling about something, it’s probably something bad.

“What are we?” he suddenly asks out of the blue.

“What?”

“We’re going to see your father….”

“Sperm donor…”

“Father” he says with such a finality, I have no other choice but to silently agree, “If he asks of our relationship, what do we say?”

“Simple, you’re my foster brother”

“He’ll spot the lie.”

“It’s not a lie.”

“It is when I don’t think of you in that way.”

His declaration leaves me speechless. I’ve been having many sleepless nights thinking of meeting my father, I should have spent more time thinking of evading the temptation that is Chuma. I swear, I should have turned down Gladys’ proposal that Chuma take me to the meeting the minute it came up, but I was so immersed in my emotional breakdown, I just nodded my approval without giving it a thought.

“Isi, a man can tell when another man is interested in a woman romantically….”

“That’s your problem Chuma, if you can’t keep yourself in check, then by all means sit in the car and wait.” I refuse to waste the little energy I have painfully reserved for whatever confrontations I may encounter with my father on Chuma, I will not go down that lane with him. I will not let him pull me into his fantasy world again.

I barely get the words out of my mouth before I get his comeback, it’s swift and takes me unawares. I swear, I have never in my life been as stunned as I am in this moment, I don’t know whether to hit him or give in to him, but one thing is glaring to me. I’m not scared. I haven’t gone blank, there’s no seizure, I haven’t blacked out. I’m very much conscious and aware that I’m being kissed right now and it’s….positively mind-blowing. His lips move against mine softly, there’s no urgency on his part, he isn’t trying o force me into anything….coax is more of it- and it’s working. A small sound leaves my throat, I would like to think of it as a groan of protest, but the slight movement of my lips against his and the flush within me may counter my conclusion. The tension leaves my body, like frozen butter next to embers, I melt into him. All rational thought leaves my head as I welcome this warm, yet intense feeling that washes over me at my first kiss. Am I supposed to feel like this? Is he supposed to be this good? Where is the fear? Where is the apprehension? Why do I feel so comfortable with him? Why does being held so closely by this man feel so….right?

He doesn’t push for anything more once he feels my lips move in tandem with his, he slowly withdraws from me, it’s only when I feel the disconnection that I realize my eyes have been closed all this while. I don’t think I want to open them as I imagine the victorious smirk sure to be on Chuma’s face right now.

His hand sweeps along my cheek with butterfly touches, “You can open your eyes Isi.”

I note two distinct emotions in his voice, the first I can clearly say is amusement, the other….i can’t quite place it, but it leaves his voice somewhat strained. i hesitantly open my eyes to look up at him, like I guessed, he’s smiling, but it’s not a cocky smirk. I can’t describe the smile because, well, if you haven’t figured by now, my thoughts are a little scattered and I’m very much disoriented by all of this, but it’s a smile filled with tenderness.

“What are we?”

He repeats his earlier question, but this time, it carries so much more weight than when it was initially asked and I don’t think I’m ready to put a tag to all of this, all I know is, we simply shouldn’t be.

Just. Effing. Brilliant. Safarigirl

Wouldn't have minded waiting 8 years for that.

This story gives me life.

Thank you.

Wow...this girl strong head ehn...e carry weight.... nice one safarigirl.

Update don land *grabs chair*

What are we?? Kweshion of life

As in. Right up there with 'Where are we headed?' and 'What's your plan for this relationship?' And a rung below the almighty 'We need to talk'.

Those are Phrases / Questions most people would not be able to answer.

gal10:
What are we?? Kweshion of life

gal10:
What are we?? Kweshion of life

As in, the kweshion no be here o. Isi be loving Chuma unknowingly.

Sgirl thanks for this kissy kissy update

Hmmmmnnn! Great!

Twale mama safarigirl.thanks so much for d update

gal10:
What are we?? Kweshion of life

We are kpoh she slapped him

Where is safarigirl,pls come and finish this story before i faint here o.



I read this story through out the night,am loving and reloving this story.... Thumps up dear,u are a great writer.

heemah:
Hmmmmnnn! Great!

pls I sent you a PM