Chapter 27 | The unauthorized lieutenant

At the onset of my teenage years, financial instability edged its way back into our lives. The shop that Papa had which, initially was doing so well, slowly started to lose its customers. The taxi rank close by, had for some reason, moved away. Businesses in the vicinity started closing down and eventually Papa had to no choice but to do the same.

This meant that Papa was left without any means of income. But wait, there is worse.

‘How can there be anything worse than not having financial independence?’ you might exclaim. Yet, for us there was.

Papa being jobless also meant that for an ENTIRE day he had nowhere to be. Usually, we’d tread on autumn leaves when he was around but this was much much more agonizing. Papa would have made for an exceptional lieutenant in the army, he’d guard us continuously and there was nothing we could do without asking him for permission first. Even Mama was subjected to this authoritative rule.

Asking for permission FOR ANYTHING forced us to be courageous in the face of uhm, Papa, even though our veins trembled in absolute fear. Something as mundane as “Please sign my exam paper” would solicit a penetrating stare so questioning it would leave you double checking to see if you had placed your birth certificate on the table by mistake.

When Papa and Mama would fight I’d often find Mama on her prayer rug afterwards sobbing her heart out. I ached at the sight of her but I was afraid of Papa as much as she was and though I sometimes said a word or two in her defence I didn't have the courage to take on Papa. In fact, nobody did.

Sometimes Daddi would come running to our side as fast as her short legs would take her begging Papa to leave Mama alone but even that didn't soften his heart. When Papa was angry nothing could temper his anger. I wonder if Papa would have been different had his own father been alive long enough to see him grow into a young man.

Often, after a fight Papa wouldn't speak to Mama for weeks on end. You could see the hurt in Mama’s eye and though she’d often pretend as if though it didn't faze her in the least, I knew that Mama craved a marriage that was to some extent stable.