BROKEN MIRAGE

CHAPTER ONE

  BANG!. I knew it had started. The everyday routine of my parents had begun. I rolled over on my bed and covered my ears with my pillow to get rid of that alarming  sound. Well, that did a little comforting but it didn't last long. I sat up and the first thing to greet me 'good morning' was the brightness of the sun. It shone so brightly that it could have blindfolded me. Lazily, I got up, said my prayers and wore my flip flops. Reluctantly, I opened my door and dragged my feet down the neatly carved wooden stairs hoping to meet a raging mom and a most raging dad. But, what I saw baffled me and I just stood below the stairs staring at a smiling dad and a mom setting the table. Mom saw me first and she gave me a weird look., "Come", she said. I knew something was wrong as I kept my gaze on dad and went to mom. But I dared not ask!

  Breakfast was a simple dish of bread, butter and tea but dad preferred coffee. So, coffee joined the table.

  "Pass me the jug, Helene", mother said in an almost unusual way. Usually, she sounds calm and polite but now, it is a complete different tone; fearful.

  "Mom, what's wrong?". I awaited mom's reply but instead, dad pulled my hair with disgust in his eyes.

  "Ki lo kan e?", he said in Yoruba. "I don't know what is wrong with you children that  you keep asking insignificant questions". BAM! That was the evidence to show that something was REALLY wrong. I passed the jug on to my mother and she gave me a smile; more like an assurance.

  "Good morning". I turned around to see my brothers standing lazily with sleep still in their eyes. My brothers are brown in colour which explains that only I and my mom is white. "Good morning dearies", mom replied. "Join us". As they were about to sit, dad started.

   "Ehn Ehn, that is how your mother taught you right? I was right. I knew she didn't discipline you well. You only greeted your mother. What am I? Invisible?"

   "Dad, we greeted you both, but only mom replied", my eldest brother, Richard said. Richard is eighteen years and he happens to be the boldest amongst us. On many occasions had he faced dad to quarrel and walk out of his face. So, with him, I feared nothing.

   "I see. I'm the bad one right?. Anyway, let me tell you. Here in Nigeria, we don't greet that way. I don't expect you to know because you don't have a trained mother too". I expected mom to burst out with anger but what she said kept me staring at her.

  "Your coffee is getting cold, Shola".

   WHAT?! That was so unlike mom. The mother I knew would defend herself at that spot immediately after dad's last word. But, today, she was unusually weird. Maybe she was sick and needed medications.

   Breakfast was over. Mom packed the plates to the kitchen and I cleared the table. I looked at the clock, it was 7:10am. I was running late. I had to be in school at 7:25am. It was the rule. I ran up the stairs, entered my room and went straight into the bathroom. Few minutes later, I dashed out of the bathroom, picked up my uniform where it was neatly folded and at 7:20am, I was ready for school.

  Dad and my brothers were already at the garage. One thing I knew my parents agreed solely on is not letting any of us out into the busy streets of Lagos. "It is dangerous", they would always say. Drake, the second eldest leaned against the railings of the veranda doing his thing; listening to music.

   "Helene". That was my mother at the doorstep with my lunch box on her hand. I exclaimed and ran to her to retrieve the lunch box. I pecked her and dad horned indicating it's time to leave. I ran into the car and waved to my mother who waved in return.

    The journey to school was quiet and boring. Dad had seized Drake's ear phones saying it was the cause of his poor performance at school. Since that moment onwards, a frown rested on Drake's face. One thing about Drake which the family despise is his anger. He's so quick to anger and I think I know where he got that from- dad. No one could even whisper to each other because if we did, dad would begin another phase of anger. We never knew why he was always angry but mom told me he wasn't like that from the start. It just started. Well, if you see him, you wouldn't believe he is capable of being an uncontrollable angry man. Dad is tall and of medium size. He has this sort of innocent face that would make you call him an angel when you meet him for the first time. He walks slowly, carefully and calmly. You would think he's suffering from a kind of disease. But, he is the exact opposite of his physical endowments.

   We arrived at school; the name; Green Field High School. Teachers were already outside the school with their canes moving back and forth but never had it done any harm to us- I and my brothers. It all happened the day Drake's class was flogged for excessive noise making. Drake refused to be beaten and because of his stubbornness,  he was beaten like a goat. Immediately, Drake called home and reported the issue. Mom became furious and rushed down to school with her car. She threatened to sue them all if they laid their hands on any of us. She also gave them strict warnings on improper discipline. Since then, cane meant nothing to us.

  Dad didn't bother to wave us goodbye like mom does. He just drove away after dropping us. That wasn't new to us anyway. We walked into the school and parted   ways into our classes. Richard is in his final year, Drake is in the Senior Secondary School one while I was in the Junior Secondary School two.

   After assembly, lectures started with my worst of all subjects, Mathematics. I just didn't seem to like it. Well, a lot of students don't like it too. I was always the centre of attention to most students because of my being white. Well, that was their problem.

  I made sure I behaved well that day as I was eager to go home and see mom.