Oranges and Fathers

Oranges and Fathers

She watches her father up on the makeshift stage in the market square. It was that time again, re-election. As the sitting governor, he didn't have much to worry about but he just couldn't help himself.

The crowd's reaction was curious, they seemed to adore him. Her aunty Folake usually spat whenever his name was mentioned. "That shameless man," she called him. Her tray of oranges were heavy on her head as she stood in the seething crowd. She could feel their tension, their hunger, their envy and their pride.

"I will rebuild this market, I will ensure 24 hours electricity so you don't have to worry when night falls, I will..." Her father went on and on, making promises he made before his first term. Promises he had failed to keep but the people didn't seem to mind, not with how loud their cheers were getting.

Her mind wandered as she thought of all the promises he had made to her, to her mother, to her family. She didn't notice when the crowd began to surge forward as the time for distribution drew nearer. Suddenly, a large man slammed into her, nearly knocking her down and throwing her tray to the ground.

"This girl, you dey craze?! See how you just stand for road block everywhere. Will you get out of here, yeye waste of space?" The man sneered and spat on the ground before moving on. She stood frozen for a few seconds and then dropped to the ground, trying to recover her fallen oranges. The man's words reverberated in her head and brought tears to her eyes.

She stood up straight and balanced her tray on her head. As she turned to leave, she overheard a woman telling her mate excitedly, "Governor Ayedije is such a great man, a real blessing to our community. Look how much he cares about us, coming here personally and not sending representatives like some do."

Her heart sank somewhere below her womb. Her father was a blessing and she was a waste of space.

A few hours later...

She walked into her grandmother's house with her empty tray under her arm, so distracted that she didn't notice the guests in the cramped sitting room.

She missed her mother more with each passing day. Her mother had put her trust in this horrible man and had paid for it, with her life.


"Funke! Haven't you seen your father sitting in front of you?" Her grandmother's voice boomed out, shocking her out of her mind.

She turned and saw her father sitting on one of their torn chairs, staring at her. She knelt down to greet him but froze before any words could leave her mouth. He had brought his son, his legitimate son, the one who lived with him in the big house on Government Lane, her half-brother, the bane of her existence, Sola. He leered at her with that disgusting smirk on his face. He was admittedly not bad looking but his weak mouth and arrogant expressions ruined any claim he may have made of handsomeness.

"Funke, look at the time you're coming back. Do you mean to tell me that you were selling your dirty oranges till this time? And just look at your dress, who are you trying to seduce? Street touts and conductors? You'd better not become pregnant because I won't give one dime to raise your dirty child!" He barely gave one dime to raise her, how much more his nonexistent grandchild.

She kept silent and outwardly calm as he raged and rained down insults on her. How was she supposed to dress when she had no clothes? Rage and pain, her constant companions, rose again in her soul but she reined them in. She must never show her father how much she hated him, her grandmother would kill her if he stopped giving the paltry sum he dropped on the ground after each horrible visit.

She missed her mother more with each passing day. Though she had never known her, she always felt this strange warmth and comfort whenever she was mentioned or when she thought of her. Her mother had put her trust in this horrible man and had paid for it, with her life.

"Funke!" She suddenly heard her grandmother's voice yelling her name.

"Yes ma?" "Don't you ever pay attention? Such a useless child. Abeg get out of here, let the adults talk?"

"So Sola is also an adult?" He was just a year older than her 16 years.

"How dare you? If you let me-" She got up and went out before her grandmother could complete her threat.

She was glad to be out of the malevolent atmosphere her father and his spawn always brought to the already loathsome house.

She wondered where her aunties were, Folake and Toyin always had comforting words for her after she encountered her father.

She went into the room she shared with her aunties, it was empty of persons. The room was sparsely furnished with two mattresses on the floor. She slept on a mat between them. She was very tired but she knew her aunty Toyin can and will drag her out of sleep if she didn't take a bath first. So she quickly took a bath in the adjacent bathroom and changed into her normal sleeping gown. Then she lay down with not a little relief and was asleep before she even covered herself with a blanket.

Funke woke up suddenly, she sat up on the mat. What woke her up? The room was very dark, she couldn't see the outline of anyone on the beds. Where was everyone? Then she heard a sound by the door, like a foot moving along the ground. She squinted in that direction and saw a dark shape.

"Who's there? Aunty Folake? Grandma?" There was no answer and she felt a sudden foreboding. She groped for the torchlight she usually kept by her side, found it and turned it on. Her mouth went dry as she saw who was by the door.

"Sola?! What are you doing here? Where's father and grandma?"

"Your grandmother has taken my father to her brother's house. I heard your aunties are there. They are having a little family meeting." He sneered at the word "family".

"Then what are you doing here? Why didn't you go with them?" she spoke harshly and desperately. She did not want to be alone with him.

"How rude of you, Funke," he smiled nastily. "I insisted on staying back so you won't be alone. I would like to bond with my sister, is that such a bad thing?" Funke immediately knew she was in trouble. Whenever they were left alone as kids, Sola made her life hell. He always played mean pranks on her, insulted her till she felt like dirt and beat her up whenever she tried to challenge him. Now they were grown and there were so many other things he could do to hurt her.

"Well thank you for staying but I'm really tired so I'd like to go back to sleep. I have to be up early for school tomorrow. You know the way to my Uncle Kunle's house or you can wait for them in the sitting room." She had every intention of locking her door behind him.

"Now, now Funke, there's no need to be like that. Are you the only one that goes to school? We can hang out for a while," he walked closer to where she sat as he spoke.

"Sola I don't want to hang out with you! We are not friends and you don't even consider me your sister so please leave."

"Oh Funke, it breaks my heart to hear you talk like this. I tried to be nice about it, maybe even give you some money after but you just had to ruin everything, didn't you?"

Her skin crawled, "What are you talking about Sola? Give me money after what?" She started inching backward on the ground, calculating the distance between her position and the door. She could hurdle over her aunty's mattress so she won't have to go past him.

Suddenly, Sola lunged and caught her ankle.

"Where do you think you're going? Running from me? But you don't run from all those dirty boys you let have you so they'll buy your wares. Why will you run from your own brother? Don't I have more right to you than they do?" He said all this with a horrible smirk on his face.

Funke's heart was in full overdrive, blood was rushing through her body and she felt an overwhelming desire to run. She tried to pull her leg from his grip but it was too strong. "What are you talking about? There are no boys. Don't do this, Sola. You're my half-brother, just stop this type of play!"

Sola laughed long and hard, "Play? I don't think you fully understand what's happening here. I'm going to sleep with you and you're going to be a good little girl and let me just like your mother let my father. The time for talking is over, Funke, we both know this is what you really want, filthy slut that you are."

He suddenly fell on her, crushing her beneath him and pulling at her gown. She started struggling, trying to push him away but his weight was too great. She opened her mouth to scream when lightning struck across her face. He had hit her, she thought dazedly. Pain like she had never felt before erupted on her face, she was sure her cheek was broken or something. She couldn't even see straight, much less speak or scream. But she knew worse pain was still to come. Sola finally succeeded in ripping away her gown and went to work on the boxers she wore under, while simultaneously fumbling with his belt. His breath was hot and stank of the suya her grandma had given him as it fanned across her face. She noticed all this with a strange detachment, as though she was separated from her body. She knew she was going to pass out soon because she had slammed her head against the ground when he hit her. She was eager for the repreive, this was not how she thought her first time would be. She did not want to remember.

"No daughter, no! Fight!" She suddenly heard in her ear as though someone else lay beside her and whispered into her ear. Immediately, she returned back to full consciousness and a steely determination filled her. His father had ruined her mother's life, she would not let his son ruin hers!

He was still fumbling with his zip and boxers, trying to free himself. So clumsy, she thought disgustedly. She stretched out her hand looking for something, anything that she could use against him. Then she felt cold metal and as her fingers curled around the edge, she remembered her orange tray that she had kept beside her because she was too tired to take it to the kitchen.

It was heavy, it would do. She lifted it above his head and almost of its own accord, her hand brought it down. He didn't even see what hit him. She brought it down again and again and again, until she tasted blood that was not hers, until his fingers stopped working at his trousers and her boxers. Still, she brought it down, the metallic sound dull against smashed flesh. Finally, she stopped. She took a deep breath and smelt blood and urine and faeces. He had lost control of his organs, it seemed. She stayed that way for a while, she couldn't tell if it was seconds or minutes or hours. Finally, she looked down and saw the head she had beaten out of shape lying on her stomach, his blood, red like hers, flowing like a river. His body has fallen to the side taking his loathsome weight away from her. She knew without a doubt that he was dead, she had killed him. She had killed the governor's son, her father's son.

There would be dire consequences, she knew, but for now, she smiled. Then she felt her mother smile and everything was alright.

Comfort Obarein is a medical student, an avid reader and a budding writer who hopes to publish both prose and poetry someday. She is crazy about cats.