He had taken
a turn for the better; character wise. He can honestly call himself a matured
man now. The thing about pasts, presents and futures however is that, they are
like building blocks and one cannot exist without the other.
Ernest Kojo
Mensah is forty years old, a father of four; all from different mothers and all
born out of wedlock. Granted he is currently married to the mother of his
youngest child, a self-made man driving his own commercial bus (trotro) and a
deacon in his church but you never truly outrun your past. Not on earth here,
you don’t.
He would be
the first to admit the credibility he doesn’t have was of his own doing, even
discounting the string of offspring he’s left in his wake.
His two oldest sons,
Ekow and Fiifi turned thirteen a month ago, his third son, Ernest (Junior) was
eight and he lived with him, his wife Naomi and their little girl, Adoma.
From the
profession he’s chosen, it’s very obvious he had other things occupying his
time and mind during the time he was supposed to be getting his formal
education.
He was still
trying to make the best out of the situation he found himself in. He knows he
got off easy with only four kids because in his day, he would admit that no
self respecting Casanova actually tried to mar his experiences with condoms. Thus
he became a hunter of the unsuspecting females in his path. He hunted for the
hymen.
It was this
habit however that prevented him from denying it to himself whenever he was
faced with the paternity of yet another pregnancy. Not that he ever admitted it
to anyone but himself though. The age old “deny, deny, deny” has been his haven
all these years.
His aged
parents are always looking at him with the disappointment they could not quite
hide. His meek sister, an ideal example of the well-trained Ghanaian woman,
Evelyn, idolizes him. To her he’s always been “big brother”. His beautiful but brash
and haughty not to mention rich sister, Alice hated him with a passion. It’s
evident in the way she talked to him and their parents whenever it involved
him. It always baffled him too because, of his sisters, he was rather fond of
Alice when they were kids.
He understands
now that everything changed the night their parents decided that the money they
had could only sponsor one kid and they’d rather have their “only son” take as
many re-sits as he could to qualify him for a tertiary education even though
his sister already had the grades to take her to the university. Hell broke loose
that night when Alice without mincing words told their parents that they were
more or less taking a stupid decision. The old man of course was incensed; no
woman talked to him like that let alone his own daughter. To him, they had done
enough giving her an education to the secondary level and they must concentrate
on the ‘man’ of the family. After all, he was going to save his family. Their father
drove his sister out of his house that night, for a son that would amount to
nothing!
Alice was a
beautiful woman but her greatest asset perhaps was her brain. Not that it was
any help to her in the early days though, apart from her studies that is. She
loved to rub her intelligence in people’s faces, especially her male
counterparts. With years, however, came
wisdom. She came to understand that though the majority may be stupid, it doesn’t
help anyone to keep pointing that out. It certainly didn’t get her things she
wanted; just enemies. She put herself through school, got her certificate and a
job. It was quite a journey for her and no one dares blame her when she flares
up whenever the “it’s the man’s decision” argument came up in family meetings. She
had no compunction whatsoever to tell whoever to shove it. She would most times
end up bankrolling the projects anyway.
She grew up
hating the dynamics of her family. She saw her father as a tyrant who shoved
his decisions down everyone’s throat, her mother as a spineless mute who never
stood up to her husband, her sister as the mirror image of their mother and a never
do well son she had the misfortune of calling her brother. To be fair, though,
fate might just have dealt her a bad hand. She probably just had the misfortune
of being born generations too soon for her own good.
************
This morning
had started off as any other morning for Ernest. In the mornings, the majority
of his clientele were the formal sector workers interspersed with a handful of
market women. Fuel prices were up again and it was all everyone was talking about
or wanted to talk about. Usually, he would just switch on his radio to drown
out the sounds but his mate had broken it a few days ago and since he hadn’t budgeted
for a new radio or even repairs, he endured the morning and all that was for
the day.
