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Nigeria's leading fictional story blog - Walt Disney, Houston, Surulere, Nigeria, Murtala Mohammed International Airport, Samsung Galaxy S6, Ipad, Orlando Florida.

“I will call the police on you if you touch me!!!” Raymond yelled at his father. “You can’t talk to me like that,” said Chimdi, his father. “I have every right to talk the way I want,” the fourteen-year-old retorted with no respect. Chimdi wanted to beat him into the ground, but afraid of the consequences, he held his temper at bay…just barely. He was fuming. “What are we going to do?” Ifeoma, his wife asked. “I am broken on the inside. I never spoke to my own father like that. I came to America to give my children a good life, and now they have turned to what I cannot describe,” Chimdi lamented. He sat on the couch and took a deep breath. Ifeoma sat beside him and rubbed his neck. She had tears in her eyes as she rubbed him. “It is going to be fine Ify,” Chimdi tried to console her.” “But he is getting worse. We have to find a way to send him to Nigeria. This is intolerable. He calls us names and does exactly what he wants…and there is no way to control him. This has to end,” Ifeoma said through tears. “Leave that to me honey. I will take care of him. I am his father. I will show him that hot water kills the tortoise,” Chimdi assured his wife.

Three weeks later, Chimdi returned from work with an iPad. “Raymond!” He called to his son. “What?” He answered him impudently. Chimdi kept a smile on his face. “I have something for you,” he announced, shouting from the living room. “Bring it here!” Raymond shouted back from his room. He was deeply absorbed in his computer game. “I bought you an iPad,” Chimdi shouted. Raymond abandoned the computer game and flew down the stairs. He unwrapped the box with elation and excitement. “I love it!!!” he shouted. The iPad glistened at him. He smelt it, touched it and hugged it with glee. It smelt brand new. He ran back upstairs, hardly saying thanks to his father. Soon, he was fiddling with it, refusing to come downstairs to do the dishes after dinner. “I am going to kill him if he does not come down here,” Ifeoma shouted. “Leave him to me, honey. Trust me on this. Let him have his way for now,” Chimdi assured her. He went to the kitchen and did the dishes himself.

A few weeks later, Chimdi returned home with a Samsung Galaxy S6 for Raymond. He went just as crazy over it. This time, he yelled, “you are the best dad in the world daddy,” Chimdi smiled and hugged him. The presents kept piling up, and Raymond was exempted of all chores. Peace rained in the house…except for Ifeoma who fumed and puffed, but Chimdi continued to calm her down. Chimdi took Raymond to Walt Disney World in Orlando Florida. He returned, full of stories for his friends. He and his father went on a fishing trip. Then, one evening, Chimdi announced, “I think we should take a trip to Nigeria.” “I don’t wanna go there,” Raymond replied. “Come on son, let’s visit your grandma. She does not have much long to live.” “What am I going to say or do with the old woman?” he asked rudely. “Just see her….that’s all. Besides, I hope to take you on a wonderful fishing trip back there. We will spend some time on the beach in Lagos too.” “Really?” “Yes son.”  “Then, let’s do it dad!” Raymond agreed, finally.

As the plane descended at Murtala Mohammed International Airport, Chimdi’s hands shook with excitement and anticipation. Ifeoma watched with a rapt attention. For the first time, they had managed to bring Raymond to Nigeria, where they both were raised. “This place is so hot men,” Raymond shouted as he left the airplane. “Welcome home son. This is Africa,” Chimdi answered him. “I don’t like it…I don’t like this heat,” he complained. I hope we have air conditioner everywhere we go?” “Not only air conditioner. We have mobile fridge that will follow you around,” Ifeoma answered. It was her turn to be sarcastic. As soon as they went through the regular checks, Chimdi landed a ferocious slap on Raymond’s face, tawaawaa!!! “What is that men?” He asked in shock. Chimdi landed another slap on his face; this time with even more force. “I am going to call the police on you,” Raymond shouted. “Let me call them for you,” Ifeoma replied. She called to the policemen that were loitering around and explained the situation to them.

“What? He threatens you with the police? His own parents?” “Yes!!!” Chimdi replied. “Deal with him. We are going to 175 Adeniran Ogunsanya Street in Surulere. When you finish with him, bring him there. I will pay you,” Chimdi added. Tawaawaam!!! The policeman delivered a swell-inducing slap on Raymond’s face. “You have no right to do this you know,” he protested. Before he could finish the sentence, another slap landed on his face. A sliding tackle sent him to the ground as he watched his parents walk away. “They are gonna kill me here dad. Please mom, come and help me,” he pleaded. “Let them kill you!!!” Ifeoma shouted. “Please, I won’t do it again,” Raymond pleaded with the policemen. Chimdi and Ifeoma went outside and watched as the policemen dealt with Raymond. He began to cry like a baby. When he thought his parents were gone, they came back to fetch him.

“Please dad…please mom, I will never treat you that way again.” He was pleading with everything in him. Tawaawaam!!! Chimdi capped off the evening with a summarizing slap on his face. That night, he could not sleep well. He kept waking intermittently, afraid that the police were coming to get him again. A week later, he was in the village fetching grass for his grandmother’s goats. Black ants feasted on him in the process and he yelled like a woman in labor. He cut grass with his bare hands, and washed his clothes by hand. “Will you treat your parents like that again?” Chimdi asked him every morning. “No!!!” He answered emphatically, eager to make his way back to Houston. A few weeks later, his parents returned to the US and left him in the care of his grandparents. After two years, Raymond returned to the US; a different person. When his father asked him, “Will you go and help your mother with the dishes?” “Yes dad,” he answered.


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Written by:
Victor Chinoo

Poster source: www.huffingtonpost.com
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