DANCING ON HIS GRAVE

When Papa was alive he kept all four of his daughters under his watchful eagle eyes. Of all his daughters, he referred to me as the bomb which was bound to go off at any moment. I was a bit fiesty I wanted to do the things my brothers did for him and even more, wash the car, fix the generator. Chiebuka my older brother would run off to Papa and announce to him that I had once again climbed up the udara tree in front of our compound, papa would run outside scream my name and call mama , immediately I got down from the tree, abuses, blows and slaps were showered on me.

My name is Obiageli. I really hated my name even though my friends said my name would attract the right man for me -She who has come to enjoy- I'm sure papa had that in mind when he arranged for Nduka, the secondary school teacher to marry me. Papa was aghast when I said I wouldn't marry Nduka, "Why? he asked, Nduka is successful, he earns good money as a teacher and he is a noble man, what else could you possibly ask for Obiageli?

"Papa, I want to go to the university!' 

Papa looked at me sighed deeply turned to my mother and said "you better talk to your daughter"

Mama tried to convince me that it wasn't a woman's place to be more educated than the man, I had my secondary school education which was more than enough, mama herself barely completed standard 2, but wasn't she breathing? Nneka, Iheoma and Udoka were already happily married why was I proving so difficult? Mama was already in tears, I pitied her but I was determined to stand by my word if being married defined happiness for my sisters, great! but as far as I was concerned I wanted a university education before I would think of getting married. Papa refused to give in to my demands neither did I give in to his. We remained at loggerheads on that issue till he died that Sunday morning.

We were late for church, mama was at Aba visiting my sick grandmother, my brothers had left for the 6:30am mass, I woke up late so I was stuck with attending the 8:30am mass with Papa which was not really my favorite. Three soft raps on Papa's bedroom door, he didn't answer, I went in, I immediately knew something was wrong with the way he lay straight on the bed. Papa was cold.

Two months after his burial, my uncle Ifeanyi, Papa's younger brother a university professor visited us and in the meeting that followed asked mama to allow me further my education, mama and my brothers vehemently said NO! Papa did not wish for any of his daughters to see the four walls of the University, why?, the university made girls wild, it made them think that they now possessed the same thing men had both physically and mentally. Chiebuka said allowing me go to study at the university was more or less dancing on Papa's grave and he would not be part of that abomination.

If going to the university and finding my happiness, becoming a writer, following the footsteps of Buchi Emecheta and Chinua Achebe, meant me dancing on Papa's grave, then I'll dance. If me wanting more out of life than pounding fufu every morning for my husband and not doing anything but cook  and engage in idle village gossip all day meant me dancing on Papa's grave. Then yes! Prepare to watch me dance on his grave.

You've gone mad! Said Chiebuka, and he stormed out of the living room.



📷:   J.D. 'Okhai Ojeikere
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