Tag Archives: Son

“Why are we taking all day son hurry up”

Desmond’s mum won’t stop calling and pestering him to drive with her to this funeral.

‘Des’ as everyone fondly called him was his mums only child, with one of the most successful well-known politicians in town. His popularity was not intentional, but because he bore a name which represented a whole political party simply meant he was the guy to hang around with and the one every girl desired. His dad was the kind of man you’d hear of but will never see – he was an enigma in the society and his mum was allegedly the only woman who had successfully kept him in check and the sole person who made him do anything out of his will. Hence people will queue at her office reception to get help with seeing her husband – she had morphed into his secretary gradually over time, something she wore with exhausted pride.

“Son come-on, seriously , WHY ARE YOU STILL WADDLING AROUND LIKE A PREGNANT HOSRE – I give you five more minutes, can we go now, we are running late, and i don’t want dad getting there before we do, you know how strict the protocol is.

Desmond had spent the whole night breaking dawn bringing the entire CITY CALYPSO club down. His entourage counted on him for endless rounds of whiskies, beers and of course the attraction of girls- it was a very lavish night out and he really had not recovered but the last thing he wanted was any kind of tongue lashing from his mother especially since he had barely four weeks to return to England and finish his Masters. He needed her support and her influence on the amount of money dad was to deposit in his account or the possibility of having a duplicate debit card to mums HSBC savings account in England.

The good thing about him is that he never disappointed when it came to excelling in his education, and that made his mum very – very generous.

—————————Mr BRIGGS———————

Mr Briggs knew for the first and the last time that he had failed in life greatly regardless of his wealth. He felt downcast as he stared at the close replica of his eyes staring at him emotionlessly, uttering no word. He knew he was wrong so he had to apologise and make every word count. He wanted to erase the past but 28 years felt like a lifetime of hurt that he did not know where to start. The shame and the pain counterbalanced his real emotion and he could barely tell if he made any impact but he cleared his throat and started …

“Son, my son find a place in your heart to forgive me will you? I was young and reckless and did not know the impact of my actions and could not take full responsibility.

“When I met your mother we were both young and innocent. She, a lot more and I can never forgive myself for ruthlessly stealing her youth and ignorance. We had an affaire, it was a fling and I thought she understood my stand about the relationship- so when she announced that she was pregnant, I panicked – I had a life ahead of me, my father had plans of sending me to study abroad and I had a serious relationship, we were already engaged to be married.



It could have taken him 12 lives like a cat to die …for he believed in his own infallibility and it betrayed him

He saw his life flash before his eyes as he lay on the muddy soil, the earth where his umbilical cord was planted, he was no stranger to this land but today he stood out a pariah. He had known too many people , he was a very popular person better still a local hero and all that meant nothing today, his popularity had nothing to do with his predicament, this day was bound to come. Yet when he lay dying the echo’s of the wind called on other things and not the people he knew. the wind sang his crimes, his betrayal, failures, dirty wealth and his legacy as a colossal failure to his family. How did he get here, his thoughts drifted as his life ebbed away his death was eminent.

Suddenly the revering voice of the mob brought him back to life and to his predicament.
”kill him burn him
”Lynch him and let the dogs eat his flesh”
The mob yelled – no mercy – there was no mercy

The pain in his head was unbearable but the stab wounds in his chest and lower belly were way past painful, they were killing him. Yes that’s what will kill him if the crowd did not rush him to the hospital…he lay there and listened to the voices fading and cascading a very dirge-y feeling, bemoaning a recap of his funeral. A few onlookers who knew better than to intervene with what the vigilantes had decided was the new rule of the land stood adrift with unreadable facial expressions – neither sorrow nor joy for his predicament. Perchance he could have redeemed his life months ago if he had made himself part of this group, but instead he dragged his feet knowing the source of his wealth will be unearthed easily, so he contented himself with self glorified accolades of a White goods importer/trades man with friends in high places.

Ten feet away a mother slumped into the muddy earth, holding unto other women , wailing, a very dry raspy rubbery cry that could barely be heard from the strain in her throat. It took her every will to cry but she cried, that was all she could do as a mother, watching her son being slaughtered by the crowd for being something she knew nothing about. As a single parent she contributed and invested nothing but good in his life, good manners, education, food on the table, clothes on his back, borrowing when she could barely afford a meal or school fees, but as a mother her aspirations were ever high, ever high for the day her son will become the man she dreamed of him.

Today she stood and watched all her hard work dissipated with no pity, no mercy. Her womb ached and her veins throbbed and pulsated from the struggle and strain of trying to reach her son. Yes! she now knew exactly what Mary felt watching her son Jesus’ Crucifixion, but at least Jesus was crucified for the good of the humanity, what was her son being murdered for ? she reached out her hand but could only grab the wind and for a moment their eyes met- she could read her son, her baby , and his eyes screamed HELLPPPPP! she was helpless as she watched the leader of the vigilante cast a huge car tire over her only son and demanded for fuel- she screamed so loud, buried her head into her thigh so deep she could smell the dampness of her femininity and the source of her pain, she sobbed so intensely that the source of her tears felt like pulling water from a drought battered earth…

Time had passed and he must have slipped in and out of consciousness, when he awoke. his first reaction was to flinch from the pain on his right side , he reached out to feel his abdomen where the pain was coming from but his hands could barely stretch, then he saw the handcuffs. He had been handcuffed to a bed, a hospital bed and there was no one else in the room. He knew he was naked for there were no clothes underneath him but the cold caress of rumpled sheets with the logo ‘general hospital’.

The pain suddenly meant nothing, his mother probably had managed to get the police there on time to take him off the hands of the vigilantes, there was no other explanation for going scout free this time around. He decided against calling out because he barely had the energy to raise his voice. He slowly shut his eye and slowly went back to sleep, this time peaceful enough to mutter three words ‘thank you God’. As the darkness seized him again he ventured into some place he had never been in his mind, a place of remorse … he was remorseful for the pain he had caused the family he had robbed at gunpoint, beaten the father and son to a pulp and molesting the mother, he was remorseful for many other things he had done which suddenly felt so real he wanted to dissociate himself from, but it was too late he was known as a thief, a deadly criminal and a rapist, what difference was his remorse going to make ?

Somewhere down the street a mother hastily cooks and stacks the food filled dishes in a food basket, eyes bloodstained from crying and throat sore from screaming, she hurriedly covers the basket with her best knitted quilt hoping to just keep it another minute warmer for her son in the hospital. As she walked down the street the whole world stared, amazed at what a mothers love could do… some verbal enough to express their disgust for a thieves mother.

She quickened her steps and let the voices pass over her, she had one single worry , whether her son will make another day, in jail or in hospital all she wanted was for him to be alive, so she walked and prayed.

(property of Dorothy Diamond – not to be reproduced or duplicated in any form)