Cruelty of my mother.

It isn't the norm in my city.


For a male child to refer to mother as cruel.


No. Neighbours don't allow it.


But, I'm not guessing.


My mother gets angry.


I do try to know why.


Yet, she'll not let me.


Instead, she engages me in a story about my illhealth as a baby.


All the ordeals she and myself contend with.


To add to lack of competent doctors and hospitals.


She never forgets the detail.


And even, it isn't my duty to make her happy.


It's that of my father.


For her anger is one strong on biological aspect.


She's wife in an era when women are proud only if female offspring is the first issue of marriage.


My mother is unlucky.


I'm male.


And the first product of her affair with my father.


No matter she tries and copes, the women are bad.


They manage to deny it.


The recognition she needs from them.


My mother will be a member of an executive council.


But, they'll never let her preside it.


At home, sometimes involuntarily, she curses me. Even, do take drugs for it.


Page 1.
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The picture tells it.


My mother lets a social distance stand between us.


If at all she hugs me, She'll let me know she loves me only while I'm too young to be aware of her.


I'm a male.


She'll rob me from my father and converse me up.


But, not now it's a male offspring I am.


She abandons me to him.


Like a looser will do to a winner.


And this, during even the years from 1976 through 1981 to 1991 that I'm a pupil, a student and an undergraduate.


Her back she turns to me does cost.


Parental and academic care.


Backgrounds I need during all of socializations.


Not only am I home in 1976, 1981 and 1991 with deficient college grades, I do have to drop out of University of Calabar on Mon Dec 23, 1991.


My father is the winner in the union contest.


But, the people of his town protest.


His employer_Government do avenge for her.


He writes a letter of protest to Government before ever he gets yearly promotion a classroom teacher gets.


But, he bears a guilt.


The blame which border on why he has to weld with iron, the year 1960.


My mother so, do corner.


Has only his children who are girls be university graduates.


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My mother has a good handwriting. I do confirm this from minutes book she keeps for group of women she's their secretary. My father too. His is the best among classroom teachers in town. But,
there's a problem. If a child performs well in class, do parents not ask, `who is your teacher?' I do reserve the question for my parents. I don't go on to interview them. I know that a commandmen
against idolatory is in place. No one must make anything adorable. Especially, any of letters and numbers that represent real things. As I'm to find, my mother writes well at expense of life of a
blood relation. My father builds a house so it does steady his hand for a good handwriting which is regular. Moreso, he pays and lets bricklayer and mason weld numbers 1,9,6 and 0 with material
iron. And has us, his children, be born after this weld year 1960. Page 3.
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The front of my father's house has two weld 1960s in place. One is under brick desk on the left side. The other, under brick desk on the right side of entrance to reception area of house. The
1960=1960 does illuminate the house. Perhaps, my father hurts to have the house be a tourist sight. But, the 1967/1970 Nigeria civil war in place does attract refugees instead. A group from Aba who
with help of Police dispossesses my father of this house. But, it's while the 30_month war lasts. I do observe weld `1960' dim clear vision. And it sets to attract people who worship objects. Yet,
none of neighbours and visitors to our house raises a complaint. All do see weld 1960 as work of a teacher. For us who go to School. Especially, those of his children who are male, weld 1960
affects our academic performance. really and adversely. And then, an Idol like that can account. My mother finds herself cruel to me. An Aquarian. A manifestation of a belief. Page 4.
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My mother has mother, father, brothers and a sister. I've so, maternals. Grandma, Grandpa Uncles and an Aunt. She lets me visit them. My father too. He has father, mother, sisters. But, no brother
of same mother. I've so, paternals. Grandpa, Grandma and Aunts. He lets me visit them. By 1984 I'm out of Higher School, most of these relations are dead. Cause of death is mystery to me until the
day my mother refers to each one of surviving maternals as a wicked person. To mean, there's a standard she wants them to live up to. But, they disappoint. And she confesses their undoing to an
audience. And for my case, she lets a neighbour hear her call me `Wicked soul'. I do understand a thing from her opinion. A Pupil is exceptionally_gifted. And do well in School work. Yet, the Pupil
is wicked. My mother has a good handwriting to reknow her for. But, at her background are blood relations who are wicked. People she'll reject their life so that her handwriting is of an excellent
quality. Page 5.
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My father and myself are `Father and Son'. Unlike in the case where `Father is in his Son' and vice versa', it's love that binds two of us, a Person. Many Nigerians depend on one we are. Sues for
`One Nigeria'. I use to think of us. I do this alone. My father don't let me converse with him. For we owe a duty. To be participating members of Gathering of kinsmen. And other social groups.
It'll be sabotage if we engage in tete_e_tete in any of ways the trinity of `Father, Son and Holy Spirit' do. My mother don't so, let me converse with her beyond obvious. `You speak nonsense !'
she'll utter. And this, as often as I go for topic which is abstract. In her presence, I've so, to avoid use of intellect. But, this training is to cost me progress in education. I don't have an
Educational institution I study in until I graduate from it. I read either or all of writing on gate of a School/University and Prospectus. And I'm the Place's Graduate. What a Genuis I've to be.
Page 6.
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Who'll later be my mother in 1964 is a 16 years old teenage virgin girl in 1963. She lives with her parents in Port Harcourt. This same year, who'll be my father is in Port Harcourt taking refuge
in her parent's home. This, in order to sit for the 1963 University of London General Certificate of Education. She isn't quite a Secondary School leaver. She isn't up to either Age of consent nor
that of marriage. But, she's first issue of the marriage of Emma and Flora. On completion of writing the exam, the man she sees frequent exam hall daily is soon back to his hometown in Isiekenesi.
But, a damage is in place. The man loves her. Parents let her know. The man is coming back to Port Harcourt, to bring a keg of Palmwine over an intention to marry her. Ver, who plans to go to
University, before she'll marry. But, standard of living is below average. Emma works for a Local council. Flora makes and sells Beansballs to Public. Ver has to obey and agree. For a Townsman to
marry her. Page 7.
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It's now 1984. My father retires after 35 Years as a Primary School teacher. From 1950 to 1984. The year he's 52 years old. Ver tells me his story. How in 1963. He's in Port Harcourt to sit and
obtain Credit grade in 9 GCE Ordinary Level subjects. But, falls in love with her in the process. He's so, to fail all the Nine subjects, except the Ibo language. And has to be a teacher with only
one GCE OL subject. It'll help him attend Teacher Training College, Nsu. Yet, in a Classroom with Pupils, he's an Aeroplane flying to a destination on just one of nine engines it works with. Ver is
cruel. She herself needs GCE OL Credit grades. Why she agrees to marry a man, who in the 1963, has a Mental age problem asks me my own question, `When is my life true?' Page 8.
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My father is a teacher. And my mother, a seamstress. Both of them are howbeit, subsistence farmers. By 1982 that these are their occupations, we're ten children in all. With time, I do discover a
precedent. My mother don't go to farm until my father is already there. Whenever then I See two of them in the same farm, I notice myself feel unhappy. For motivation behind their doing farmwork
together isn't free of fear of enslavement. Ver waits until the man is there. So that he shorts to turn her into his slave suppose she's in farm when he's in house. An ugly trend. It's to prevail
for many years. We, the male children are to qualify as teachers. And the females, seamstresses. But, these Parents envy and compete with eachother. Do afford to engage in combat even. An ensuing
Peace they achieve has Ver follow in his footsteps. In 1992, she qualifies and gets the teaching appointment I'll get. And in 2013, like my father in 1984, retires as a teacher. Page 9.
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By date of birth, she's a Capricon mother. I get to know this while I'm a Bank clerk in Aba (1986). From a book its title is `1986 Astrological predictions'. she's `I use' in attitude toward
things. But, I don't know the implication until it dawns on me. Ver agrees to marry my father at so young an Age? Perhaps because she's `I use'. She'll get the upper hand. Use him to death once it
occurs to her that all who'll be his children are born. While marriage lasts, she has him forge my 1976 First School Leaving Certificate. To be the replacement for her missing First School Leaving
Certificate. Moreso, makes him be the one who sponsors her completion of the Secondary School socialization she has to drop out from in 1963. And the Teacher Training College she attends for five
years (1987~1992) after birth of last of us his children. My father. The one she sends on errand to the Government Ministry in charge of Primary School socialization during most of days of her
career as a teacher. Page 10.
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My mother is the one. All of us Children of Maths entrust our School results in her hands and custody. She keeps the documents safe. But, little do any one of us School leavers in our Nuclear
Family know. A Certificate which has to do with an Academic performance in School work blesses who it's in his/her custody. Over the years, Ver discovers this. But, she'll not let Cat out of bag.
She benefits from keeping our Certificates. To an extent she shorts to die on the Aug 17, 2012 which is her date of death. Stimulants and Drugs she indulges in, to the overdose, account. But then,
blesses of a Certificate does account most. I do recall retrieving Statement of result of my 1982 West African School Certificate Examination from her. I've F9 in Biology. None of Grades in the
English Language and Mathematics is a Credit grade. It may then be my mother who wants me to take it and burn. A Statement of result that doesn't bless. Yet, all the days later, she scolds me over
disusing it. Page 11.
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My mother Ver and my father Maths are, in 1963, into a union. It's to reproduce mankind. But, individually do they hurt for just their specie of man. A Partnership. It has Maths contribute Bride
price. And Ver, Dowry. Maths is the one to determine sex of offspring. But, many influences affect how well he's to do this. In the Nuclear Family he's from, his mother's first offspring for his
father is a female. It'll so, be quite a guess to expect it. Ver sets to conceive for him a female first. But, at the time in 1964, the People of Isiekenesi are under a fatigue. First issue of
almost all the Unions is female. Maths and Ver are into a two_yearly reproduction combat (1964 until death stops them in 1982). Two fighting. It has Maths determine outcome of a Union in a manner.
If an outcome is a male, the next must've to be a female. And vice versa. Page 12.
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Ver (1947~) and Maths (1932~) grow and mature toward 1963 they'll meet, marry, raise a Child and be a Nuclear Family. But, like Ver, Maths has three main enemies. Namely, the Roman Catholic Church
they're each, a Member of. The Government of Nigeria they're employees of. And the ambushing Hospitals. Until death of Efqwz, tenth Child of Maths, in 1982, little do I Know. The RCM don't
establish a Hospital until there's a Person they need to steal his/her Soul there. Likewise do Govt. The RCM hurt for death of a Child. And Govt, for father of a Child. In this state of jealousy
has the RCM to Set up a Hospital. The Isiekenesi Hospital Complex. Are so, in institutional ambush as Ver gives birth to a Child after every two years. The RCM is to use Mabel. A Nurse. A Victim of
School rape. Intuitionally, she injects and kills One_Week old Efqwz. Years later, the Govt of Imo State put in place a Hospital in Orlu. And on Sun Jan 5, 2014, has Maths lose his Ghost within its
Four walls. Page 13.
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I know that none of words of the English Language is real. Words for representing real things. But, there's a Problem. Whereas Ver uses her word to represent a real thing, I use my own for an
unreal thing. During a conversation, she so, waits. If she hears my word. And it represents what is unreal. She retorts, `You're up for nonsense again !' I do suspend my opinion. Yet, I don't come
to agree I've a word I speak which border on nonsense. I recall. She reminds me of my Childhood illhealth. And seem to say, `You underestimate impact of it on your ability to use a word/number to
represent any of a Person, a Place and an Object !' No wonder. On completion of Secondary School (1982) and GCE AL Exams (1984), I can hear Maths urge me to find work and earn income. As if he
adds, `You're a Genuis. A Secondary School leaver who is a University Graduate merely knowing that there're people who'll earn income of money while he's an Undergraduate. Page 14.
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The People seem to want her to survive us. I can know this from every townswoman and townsman I pass by. Each one likes to respond to my Greeting with `How is your mother !?' I respond saying,
`She's fine !' But, at bottom of my Heart, I Know. We, especially those of us who are Female. We haven't Life to live unless our mother departs to the great beyond. It obtains. A law which is for
us to observe. If we marry, has sex and give birth to an offspring. Are so, to die. So an offspring do live. Yet, a Parent do like to live, notwithstanding. The Roman Catholic Church seem to
suggest a thing. `If you hate to die this death, don't marry. And don't indulge in sex'. Townspeople of 2021 ask me, `How is your mother !?' Even, years after 2014 that my father is in the Grave.
Ver do scold me over opinion. My feedack no one is backing. To our Townspeople then, Ver don't have to pay for life we've. Children who'll so, not continue a Parent. Page 15.
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Ver is a chaste wife. I do note it. For it, she'll not permit Maths freedom to keep his Public experience a secret. She chats him up until he divulges to her a secret he ought to hide from her.
Even, a secret from membership of Gathering of kinsmen. She'll not let him be friends with any of women he meets in a social group. And she'll not let him succeed. Even, as a trader. And, on the
hand of his career as a teacher, she helps Maths be a failure. A Headmaster. But, he's then faithful. In an incident is a Youth by name, Raph. Raph uses to be a tailor. He hasn't been my father's
Pupil. Yet, Raph pleads. He wants to attend College. Maths issues to him a First School Leaving Certificate from among blank copies in his custody. Ver shuts her eyes over it. May be, as she's to
need the same help. A chaste wife (1963 Until 2014). Maths is the only Man she has anything serious to do with. Yet, he hasn't his opinion she likes to make it her own. Instead, she lets me know he
has shortcomings. Page 16.
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Ver tells to me stories. Most of themes border on her time with Maths. In 1963, before my birth in 1964. she wants me to know who my father isn't. She fears he'll try to make up for me a story
she'll not agree with. One of vulnerable stories is about the first time she's pregnant. Malnutrition lingers. Maths is negligent in his role as the Breadwinner. Ver needs proper nourishment. Yet,
there aren't food to eat until it's end of month. Only then, the Head of Government signs a Memorandum ordering Accountant_General to remunerate the teachers. Ver and myself inside her Womb are
starving of food on the day she calls a spade a spade. Has to abscond with me from our Isiekenesi home to her father's house in Port Harcourt. And gives birth to me there. Maths isn't around to be
her Birth partner. Maths has so, to reject me. If he loves me, it turns out to be in the name of God. Unfortunately, it's a name I do hear him swear with. Page 17.
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Body Mass Index is a measure of size of a person. It's equal to Weight in Kilograms over Height to Power 2. I use to be happy I Know my BMI until a Day an application of BMI reveals to me a danger
awaiting. A Website deal in comparing Countries of the World on the basis of Average BMI of all the inhabitants of each country. Scrolling down, I do note Average BMI of my country Nigeria. I'm
lean like Ver. My BMI of 20.76 Kgm is clearly below the Average BMI of Nigerians. Come and see the consequence. For Ver, the Roman Catholic Church are in Frenzy. Publicly do they abuse Ver over her
lack of large buttocks. And so, do exclude her from among those they honour with the Title, `Good mother'. For Me, I don't know that my below average BMI account for why I'm a Nigerian who don't
own a Fashion product like the lot. No Car. No Motorcycle. No Tricycle. And no House of my own. All the days, I'm almost a road to drive on. Page 18.
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Ver uses to get and own Lump sum amount of money. Like all the other Teachers, she gets arrears of monthly Salary from Employer. And like Maths, she gets big sum from his Children who reside in the
other Continent. But, she never comes to be a Lender. None of friends and neighbours show interest in any Lump sum she has. For they get from their own People the same she gets courtesy of her
sources. Ver gets. Yet, continues to be a mother who is buoyant, today. And poor, tomorrow. The recurrence of poverty is to turn her into a mother who borrows as a habit. If she makes a Budget,
it's one of an amount she plans to borrow for the Week. Maths too. He has never been a Lender, for the same reason. He has to borrow. But, unlike Ver that her group do co_operate with, Maths lacks
friends and also, neighbours who lend money. He's hardly, a member of a Social group which has money to spare. He so, depends on a Letter he writes. Either to Ver, or to one of Children requesting
for a Loan. Page 19.
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First of all, she's like a girl who hates the boy attracting her interest. Yet, she submits to him. But, it's in order to find a chance and punish him for his Gut, My mother comes on, a case. She
ceaselessly homes in on my father with incessant nagging. Among others, says he's failing in his role as the Breadwinner of Nuclear family. Much more than this, and during occasions on end, she has
him be an audience of a rude speech. Her outbursts which suppose to be against an enemy of family. Page 20.
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She tells her audience about my role I don't play well. From leader of the rest of Children to duty of secrecy I owe my Parents over secrets of family. Her audience happen to be neighbours I expect
good remarks from. I'll grieve and grieve, each occasion she's over there engaging one and other in a blackmail. Each of conversations ghostly murders me. Page 21.
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My maternal Grandpa. Her father. In the 1940s. He's like any other employee of a City council. He makes ends meet. But, not as much as train his Child up to University level. My maternal Grandma.
Her mother. She fries and sells Beanballs at a corner of street in Port Harcourt. My mother has yet to take the First School Leaving Certificate Examination. Yet, the man she'll be his wife has
come. He's in Port Harcourt over a University of London GCE exam. A girl who hopes she'll attend Secondary School. She'll not believe her bad luck. One which is more hurting than Seamstress she has
to be during the first few years of marriage. Page 22.
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My Parents aren't ones who forget the penalty. The punishment which has Man and Woman be two who till and toil before they've food to eat. Over it do my two Parents take to the teaching occupation.
It'll bring them close to farmland. This's while each one of neighbours escape to the Cities for white collar occupation. For it helps them keep farmwork a distance off Life which is easy to live.
Page 23.
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My mother recounts the story. She's there in the Labour room of Immaculate Heart Hospital, Port Harcourt. She's reeling in pain. It's time for her to feel the baby come out. Yet, none of Face of
Nurses around indicate so. But then, there I'm. At my discretion have I come out. My mother recounts of a baby flexing arms and hands frantically. I do feel her suspect My coming out. I'm avoiding
contact with walls of Vagina. Hence, I delay and come only by own effort. A probable reason she declines to let me be aware of it if she ever has put me on her laps. Page 24.
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I know my mother on a count. She's a person who attends many meetings. And regularly. Each of meetings is a Gathering of wives who share a common interest. She attends many Meetings. In almost half
of settings, she's the Secretary. The member who keeps and updates Minutes book with deliberations of day. I do stop and take a glance at one and other Minutes book. Her handwriting is so excellent
I wonder over what she isn't a University Graduate is all about. And also, over what she isn't Chairlady of a Meetng touch on. I don't know of a day she's the member presiding over a Meeting she's
present. She'll feel disappointment. But, no. She manages to be happy instead. But then, at home. It's an experience which makes her unable to be patient with me whenever I go abstract in a
conversation. Page 25.
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It isn't simply that the four conditions for germination of her egg by his semen are present. No. The union is indeed taking place in the presence of Air, Nutrients, Water and Sunshine. But then,
my propective mother isn't a Plant; but, a Human. Unlike a Plant hasn't a Soul, she has. The conditions for germination of her egg has so, to include the fifth condition. Weather in its
environment. A condition which takes care of sophistication and quality of the offspring undergoing conception. To be able to conceive me has my mother to be this mature girl born on Dec 31, 1947.
For my prospective mother must've to be a girl whose day of birth can only be December 31. The last day of a year. Page 26.
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According to an ancient history, a man is wealthy if either he owns a large stock of animals or the number of his children from one wife is more than twelve. The same history has it. These wealthy
men come mainly from among any of the continents except Africa. The arrival of money and industrial revolution are to usher in a change. The man is wealthy who earns more than a million Pounds
annually. My Parents aren't born with a Silver spoon in mouth. None has a Royal family s/he descends from. And all do short. In Ascribed and Achieved Status. The most which is success is simple.
They're a native of a Place. This's athough my father hasn't an Owner_occupied Land to show for a native he is. Everywhere they look, University graduates, Private car owners and Owners of highrise
buildings abound. My Parents seek to be like them in achievement. But, do fail. My Parents don't come to know source of wealth they witness. A State of affair. It's to make them rear us. To tidy
over. Page 27.
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I call them a People because of common interest they share. From Grapevine it's occurring. There're many who don't love me. And has plan to suspend me into a grave. As quite as sympathize do they
die in their numbers. Each one dies, very happy it's occurring before it's my date of Death. I search for a meaning. If those aren't the Good, they must be people who seek to be good on an account
of a plan to ruin an Innocent Child. Whichever one it is, I appreciate the guesture. And lets my Prayers save. Especially, if they expect it. I recall it often. My father hurt me much and unjustly.
But, he manages to be one of those who quickly departs in order not to wWiness my death. My mother keeps living, instead. But, it's over a `x' at back of thumb of my left hand. It cancels me
infinitely. Page 28.
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I'll be there indoor of our house when my mother sets to leave and attend a function which Venue is some metres away from home. Yet, I do observe. She never skips to put door to her room under lock
and Key. She so repeats the maltreatment. A day like that, I feel myself digest a mistrust of me. She's afraid I'll open the place in her absence and tamper with either an important personal effect
or a document. This's whereas if it's any of my sisters who is indoor, she drops Key with her. In some instances, she'll be very happy it's my sister who is around. And lets her room and windows be
wide open. But, I happen to be the one most available for a conversation. I hear her accuse me saying, `You're fond of destroying things. Not even any of your Certificates do you Spare !' Page 29.
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My own account of myself is what I go to sleep with. An account which isn't to the World, their account of me. I live in a midst of a People. I come in, reading and listening to their history. A
history of neglect of the other people over there. Those they look down on and overlook until it's them who account for themselves. A World. My presence on a Planet of Universe is Phenomenon to be
ignorant of. Come to tracts of living, None of my wants has the Earth what satisfies it. My father is to die in 2014 under weight of the black Sheep he ceaselessly is. Just in this similar manner a
food my mother eats is the Inhabitant of the Earth she enjoys recognition from. And I see her pretend saying, `I'm one of those living, after a day of Birth !' I don't succeed in pardoning any of
disappointments I contend with. I've so, to observe myself sweep my heart with an electronic broom. To rid it of a black Sheep I too sets to be, to a World. Page 30.
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An enduring advice is at background of a marital life. A wife knows she's the one who makes soup for her husband. She must so, keep hands clean and off a transaction which is an evil. For a soup of
a wife has a taste it uses to report to her husband that there's what she's doing he isn't knowing. Not only has soup of a wife whose hand is unclean a dull taste, it's disorderly she adds
ingredients of prospective soup to boiling water. My father, perhaps detects that a soup is tasteless. But, he'll not complain because a priority is at stake. He'll not stake in favour of soup of
good quality at expense of her honour of his desire for sex. I'm so, the one who complains and leads my mother to an improvement. But, when I open the topic, she quickly tables, `Your father don't
give to me an amount of money sufficing for a soup of standard taste !' The question as to if there's either an undoing or an occupation she rubs her hands and talent in, is to remain for years
without an answer. Page 31.
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No one dare mention. The rinsing. A Custom of the Land. If a wife is mother of ten children, the People do rinse her of labour by killing Goat of the Ten. In our case, this Goat happens to be our
tenth by day of birth. At end of 1980, we're nine children in all. One day in Feb 1981, I'm home for weekend from College. My mother is pregnant. It's my final year as a Secondary School Student.
I've to help over a few Chores and hop back to College. I'm at home, a month later. News filter in announcing birth of a male and tenth child. Everything is so obvious I short to know I must rush
to Maternity home forthwith and see the baby. Only a week. News of his death filters in. A Nurse. A victim of School rape, a few years back, do kill the Week old baby with an intuition. Her
intuition I'm to find among only mature girls who, in marriage, usually give birth to a female first. A baby too young to carry an injection. Page 32.
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I know that if another is managing my Age for me, I'll have to give also, control of me to the Person. To me, my Age is an answer I get after I subtract my date of birth (17021964) from Date on a
day of anniversary (Say, 17022022). To me too, control of me is an Outcome I get after taking a decision. Early in life, my mother quickly shows to me my date of birth. I quite understand the
guesture. She isn't the one to manage my Age for me. My father grieves over his own problem. And isn't so, the one. His father (my Paternal Grandpa) is already dead the day his wife (my Paternal
Grandma) is to give birth to my father. And his mother hasn't a date of birth she let my father jot down as his date of birth. Now in School in 1969 until Feb 17, 1981, I'm my own manager, I do
fall to playing football. For there isn't indeed anyone who renders to me, the service. The Heads of School I attend who suppose to manage my Age, really don't. Page 33.
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I know it. Her faith is one among immaterial cultures of Town she's from. Over there, a man don't take, the same instant he gives. Instead of take, he has faith. Another time does arrive. And he'll
not give, the same instant he takes. In Town she's now wife and my mother, faith isn't among immaterial cultures of the People. A man takes, the same instant he gives. No man listens to a promise.
This's because it often creates violence. A transaction perfect on the basis of a promise leads to a conflict. This's in that settlement of the debt it's about is coming late. Thus, making real the
problem of time value of settlement. While then my mother takes what belongs to my father on the basis of a promise she'll honour his desire for sex, my father don't take what belongs to my mother
until he has what he'll give to her in return. Many occasions in Parenthood, I do find them aiming rude speech at eachother. They often end it with either a quarrel or a physical combat. Page 34.
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I don't know of a woman who'll not marry a man because he's a difficult person. A man who isn't easy to please. No. A woman marries even a criminal. Once his undoing is yet to be subject of a Court
case. By end of year 1960, an undoing of my father (of welding 1,9,6 and 0 with Iron) stands there at veranda of his four rooms and parlour house. Years before he'll meet who's in 1964, my mother.
The `1960' is visible to a public. But, none of Christians who agree that my father is adoring `1960' raises a petition. In 1963, who'll be my mother arrives. She sees the numeric idols. Yet,
stays. She'll not divorce my father. As my mother in 1964 until Sun Jan 5, 2014, she observes my father breach the law against idolatory. As she finds, even after delivery of ten of us his
children, my father is unrepentant. Instead, he values `1960' as a People do a work of art. But then, while pregnant of me in Jan 1964, she absconds to her father in Port Harcourt over lack of food
to eat. Page 35.
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The School has neither a teacher nor a textbook to recommend to its Students. It's a School for a husband who has been able to impregnate his wife and give to the World, a child. It's also a School
for a wife if she has been able to be pregnant and give to the World, a child. It's so, a School only for who is either a father or a mother. My mother is a Student. I've to be a Student. This's
after birth of my first child at 06:25 Pm on Mon Apr 27, 1998. I need an achieved status. To me, `Parent' isn't a status until I do identify which material ingredients I put together and it's a
child. The story is this: For second child, my Wife declines to reveal to me if she's pregnant. For she feels I don't know skill to form a child inside her womb. And so, like my mother and myriad
drugs from my father, I daily give to my wife a raw egg of hen to break and drink until total is 107. Since her womb rejects my skill, my experiment is that those eggs does the work I'm wont to do
to form a child inside her. Page 36.
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Until in 1986 that I've to reject admission to an Undergraduate course and join a Bank, I enjoy a privilege which is an average for children. Of having on ground, Parents who'll not let me be
unimportant to them. Though then I may be along a street all alone, behind an exposure to scrutinizing eyes of General Public, are my Parents and their house I return to when it's night time. All
the time, they claim me. A treatment which means I've a family I belong to. And love of Parents who protect children from other Parents. An employment as a Bank clerk completely does disappear the
privilege. So much so I do go on to lose the employment in 2001. I'll go in search of either a reinstatement or a new employer. Yet, never again there comes up other Bank seeking my skill and
service. Not even to protect a secret of banking I now know, has a Bank interest in offering to me a second chance. I'll get Contract jobs. But, all does offer little in terms of tenure and wages.
Page 37.
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I discover it from a Photo. My mother probabily has cut short my Life expectancy as early as my Childhood. I get to know this from result of interpreting this Photo which is minus two years as old
as myself. The Photo shows a girl carrying me on her laps while my mother sits among Apprentices. Their master sits alone at a corner. A man who contends with loss of one of legs over amputation. I
do imagine that while sewing and I'm playing around, my mother do perhaps chop off a good chunk of how long I'll live with a needle of a Sewing Machine she's operating. The Photo shows back of two
hands of the girl (Matilda) as she firmly covers area about my Penis. To mean that it remains my Penis and my mother ruins entire of me with a Sewing Machine. I often ransack our house (1969 Until
1984) to see if there're other pictures about her as a tailoress. Luckily for her, there isn't any other. She'll not take up the Career. How I'll take her up in a castigating of an Occupation I'm
yet to like. Page 38.
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It's now years I've come to know that some people destabilize others by means of telepathy. As the Sun effects the Earth without passing through a medium, so a Man/Woman who practises telepathy,
another. At I.B.W.A LTD Aba in 1986, there's this Libra wife. She's perhaps, a member of a group that teach telepathy to eachother. She remains where she is, a distance away. Yet, she's able to
push to a ground, all which are in order in the hands of a Staff far off, who she victimizes. When home, I often observe my mother eat little quantity of food to avoid escape of crumbs. She omits
an account about crumbs. It Says, `Though home, Worker may still be a victim of a telepathy over an office s/he's from'. Page 39.
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I often have to warn the girl saying, `I'll marry you. And become your husband. But, not if you attend either a Church, a Mosque, a Shrine or a similar Place. Places that World dedicate to a belief
!' The girl's name is Zeynabe. She's first of all, apologetic. But then, she begins to take offence. Her face turns pale. She's angry, `So, you don't know I'm a handwork of an almighty. You've to
wait. Everywhere, it's Church first. You must welcome me to your House if I visit. Don't want me to visit you with my private organ that a Church is yet to be fond of !' ME: `I'll not accept. Take
you into my house? A girl who lets Church know she's ovulating and menstruating. And so, cleans excretions with a holy spirit !' Zeynabe picks me and bounces back, fuming, `You're asleep. At hour a
hand is forming me. I don't have a feature you're to be the first to enjoy. Worst still, the only man who enjoy it !' My hands has to let Zeynabe depart from my mother and myself. Page 40.
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I do account for a maximum of twelve Persons. Clothing, food and house are the basic necessities of life. Each necessity is very scarce. I've so, to supply to each one of twelve, a Clothe to wear
at an expense of either a food to eat or a house to pass a night in. Luckily, one after other soon deserts me in search of ends in question. Each one of the six females, including my mother, in
this Span of Control are now in the home of a husband. From there do they help the males, time without number. Helps which act to encourage the Male members to be Self_reliant and independent.
They'll so, not depend on me. But, if help from a source arrives on their account, I'll not be the one they ought to remember. I'm therefore alone; fends for my ends. I'll plot and plot stories.
Develop and develop as many as tick my fancy. As late as 2021, a Publisher shorts to show interest. For, a Culture is in Place. A Person in high Social Class recognizes only who already belongs to
it. Page 41.
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I agree. `There's life to live'. One of constituents of a planet of solar system is life. I then sit and ask myself, `There's life for me to live?' Thereon, a question has me repeat, `I'm from
where I haven't life to live?' I do answer, yes. I'm from a place I haven't life to live. Courtesy of my mother and her breastmilk, I've to define life as `Something to kill and eat'. Here's
therefore a planet. The Earth. One of its constituents is `A thing to kill and eat'. In my time as a baby, my mother quickly let me know she's life I've come (from wherever) to live. Life that
economizes. Hence, she starts my killing of her, with breastmilk. In 1982 until tomorrow, I'm not able to secure the number of GCE OL Credit grades our Universities are asking for. I've time; sit
idly and observe girls and women pass by a shop I keep. I ought to hate them. But, I don't. Instead, I manage. Finds them to be a pleasant lot. `Life is Pleasant', I let myself imagine. Page 42.
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Like all who get pregnant, my mother contains a clock indoor. It ticks and tells time. Unlike an artificial clock and its time, it plays a major role in determining time and date of birth of an
Embryo developing inside her womb. And also, time and date of death of developed child. I know of contracting this indoor thing. And an affinity ensuing. My father soon discovers. It's abnormal. He
starts to execute a project of taking my attention away from my mother's clock. He'll not attend a public function without wearing a wrist Watch. And he'll never let his house lack a wall Clock. To
distract an attention I give to my mother's. Indeed, he has to employ services of a Radio. It does Blare and Blare. Has me turn off attention I pay to some silent Clock now ticking, far inside my
Ears. For giving birth to me, with her womb Clock stuck to back of thumb of my left hand, do my mother withhold forgiving of me. She'll send me to University. But, because of stealing her `Times',
she'll not. Page 43.
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My mother has more of big than small eyes over quantity of things she gets from an open market with money she has in Purse. She isn't wife who beware there're forces of demand and supply at work.
Forces that effect price and value of Cash in hand. She starts going to a weekly market, happy she has big amount to spend. `It'll bring to home many goods', She decides. Now inside a market, She's
face to face with reality. Stall keepers sell at current market price. Money she has does go down without goods to show for it. A dismay drives her around in search of where to get things at amount
she affords. I do note. She usually wastes hours within four walls of a market. Perhaps, to be how she persuades Stall owners to show mercy. Now home and drops all of what she has come back with,
all of the goods doesn't fill a Tray. I use to around. She feels a disappointment. She looks up. But, none of us at home dare show sympathy. Less she feel a bad emotion. Page 44.
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To a wife, `nothing' is an area. A space which isn't hosting a shape. Nothing is so, a space a wife who is yet to experience Pregnancy drops her buttocks on. I get to know this from a girlfriend by
name, Stelly. A wife who starts to engage in union with husband; but, misses to take in, do soon go in search of `nothing'. A fresh space she'll drop buttocks on. And it helps her achieve
Pregnancy. My mother, over the consecutive two years she delivers ten children, has become affine to `nothing'. And on terminating union with my father after death of tenth child, she isn't again,
a wife in search of `nothing'. She sits on the `nothing' about conception and birth of the last of us, Children. A space which is then old. Exposes her to fatigue and diseases. I hear her announce
arrival of a new, just a few days after Pharmacists rid her of an old ailment. My father hasn't her sickness he solves. This's knowing that her need for `nothing' border on a mystery. Not, on a
secret. Page 45.
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I'll not go on and marry the girl I'm in love with in 1988. This's because my father shorts an accreditation he needs for it. It's to come from native town. It's only if they accredit my father
he'll go to the girl over me. And she'll agree to marry me because of him. A maturing girl know the custom at finger tips. The girl soon disappears from my life and marries other suitor. In 1995,
Sabine appears. My Mother is on hand. Native town do accredit her. She has so, to go to home town of Sabine. Seeing it's my mother and knowing that she can satisfy custom ensuing, her Parents are
happy to let Sabine agree to marry me. But, maltreatment of my father quickly reminds me of my University of Calabar Direct Entry B.A Philosophy in 1991/1992 Academic Session. National Universities
Commission are yet to accredit the Course. I've then, to abandon the Programme on Fri Dec 23, 1991. Page 46.
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For many years during babyhood, I'm one who contends with one disease after other. My mother likes to recount an ordeal. `For any one greedy disease, its vector and pathogen are unknown to the
Doctors on hand !' I've so, to be a victim of an illhealth which shorts to let go under the best of intensive care. Page 47.
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A Case is perhaps in her favour if it's true she's selfish. The Word `selfish' has how it reminds my mother of a dead man. He rises from the hell to the heaven. But, before he'll be in the heaven
proper, he requests a survivor to give to him a fish to eat. His survivor lets him hold and have his fill of roast fish. But then, has him know what it means. `It'll happen. None who is yet to die
likes to be hungry of fish'. I do recall. My mother looks down with her Word she speaks about a kinswoman who sells fish in an open market and at home. Either it's that the woman lets some of stock
overstay or indeed, she sells tilapia which already has foul smell. Page 48.
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My mother makes a type of meal because it's it she'll like to eat. Not, in that it's the type my father and us children do like to eat. My father do eat. And all of us at Home, Quite similarly.
This's though I know that food is a factor of production of us. The Capital. Reward to Capital is interest it's attracting. She sets food which attract only her interest. The food sort of, offers
nutrients just to her. Whereas, we do eat. Lack of nutrients for us whose interest don't then count means we eat her food. But, it helps us contrarily. As when food we eat is why a belief is
attractive. And the days according to Calendar become source of knowledge of meaning of a day. The latter do I put into practice. Marks and notes down the days I'm able to achieve. Page 49.
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My mother recites a Rosary every night. I do hear her chant and sing. But, it's right there on top of Marital bed. On one hand, to scare away my father. For he continues to desire and request for
Sex. On other hand, to scare away God in that Rosary isn't His idea. The `God' stuck to her vocal tract like a word she's unable to speak. But, it's there, present. And breaching her part of vow of
marriage. The vow which makes my father the person (about my mother) who the World's people ought to reknow. She chants hoping it's an alarm instead she's raising. I do hear her accept that she's
guilty of a sin. But, a Court isn't in session. She's so, a victim of torture. An enemy is extorting a Confession from her. There isn't yet, a neighbour who rescues her. From 1947 she's born until
2014 my father departs to the Great beyond, she contends with an invasion of a privacy. From 1964 to 2021 has it to really eat deep into fabric of her Achieved status as a mother of us, ten
Children. Page 50.
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After passing away of my father on Sun Jan 5, 2014, my mother must needs have some man who plays role of husband of her. But, first of all, she must put on black Sackloth and mourn him for one
year. It's the Custom. She cannot re_marry until after. Howbeit, my mother isn't hoping to re_marry. She's well over 60 years old in 2014. In the Nigerian Law in place, She's up to an Age. She's a
Widow. But then, she comes on bringing a problem. She chooses to listen to the Roman Catholic Church over an advice. It asks a wife to mourn her deceased husband for 6, not 12 months. And colour of
Sackloth must've to be white. Come and see Ver in the white Sackloth. If you don't use to hate her, You do have to. Seeing her in it, I get the impression of a wife who is successful in murdering
her husband. I feel the worst knowing she's to remove the Sackloth after only 6 months. Now, come and know who she fancies for a replacement husband. Exactly, the man I don't envy his social
status. Page 51.
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My mother is guilty of a crime. She let my father engage her in a union after my time (09:00AM) and date (Feb 17, 1964) of birth. But, it's an undoing every other Parent is guilty of. But, it'll
soon be time to apologize. And to this first offspring who has then a brother and a sister s/he isn't their superior. Over apology, my mother chooses Irony. To be a figure of speech to use and tell
to me she's sorry. And too, to express disgust I'll like to be certain of the cause. If she's wont to apologize, she invents a fault instead and says it's true of me. And rains curses on me. One
day, she's keeping her hatred of me alive with rude words. So much so it has me run to the Kitchen. Collect a handful of wood ash. Bends and blows the ash at her through window that separate her
room from my own. It'll dismiss her. But, my father is on hand. Undertakes to be victim of what obtains. A year later (Sun Jan 5, 2014), he dies. On her behalf, a death from an avenging ash. Page
52.
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My mother is able to escape unemployment. And so, lack of a viable subsistence farming. But, never ever is she able to overcome fail of her health emanating from life as a Seamstress. She earns
income of a School teacher. But, monthly Salary arrive late. And instead of relieve her of poverty, the income turn out to encourage her to borrow. Scarcity of buoyant times means she finds herself
select only my father's Children who are female. For training up to University Level. Not until toward an end of the gender discrimination do I know. My mother declines to help me attend University
under income she earns as a teacher. She lets me be the one who take care of myself. She diverts to medical bill over illhealth, all income which remain after she has my sisters attend University
and marry. I'll grieve over her use of my 1976 First School Leaving Certificate to attend Teacher Training College, Umudi. And she seems to mean I must wait and not attend University until she has
been able to be there. Page 53.
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It'll be my birthday anniversaries on end. I don't come to have a day that my mother is reminding me it with a party. My time and date of birth. Year after other, I continue to anniversary without
a `Happy birthday' from her. She'll keep noticing nothing. But, it's from her I know my time and date of birth. 09:00 Am Feb 17, 1964. I do recall seeing the data on a Paper baptismal card. The
card having come from a Rev Fr Macffery. The then Parish Priest of St Anthony Catholic Church, Isiekenesi. Perhaps, my mother is suing for gratefulness from me. I ought to be grateful I've the
data. For, of us ten Children who are from her, she repeats, `I cannot tell the time and date of birth of eight of you !' Page 54.
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I've come to know. My father reads the English dictionary above all the books there are in town which aim to take a wife's eyes away from husband. My father do also read a pictorial book. Psalms of
King David. But, whereas his business with the English dictionary reveal to my mother he's a backward man educationally, that over Psalm book make her wait and has him be a man to use and achieve
an end. I do recall. The English dictionary I've as a Student of Bishop Shanahan College, Orlu. It Cost me so much regard from Classmates. Over similar diservice from my father's Psalm book do I've
to one day, burn the book to ashes. Ashes I'm to collect and blow at my mother the day she declines to stop raining curses on me. My mother hasn't a book she herself reads. I'll mention it here if
there is. She's to me, a teacher who don't teach to Pupil the Knowledge to follow her footsteps with. My father is to die searching for a book she reads. A book which compare to a dictionary. Page
55.
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I don't want to be a thing who daydream that death doesn't end a blood relationship. No. I remind myself of vow of marriage with my wife. We who'll be husband and wife do continue to marry. But,
not after either or all of us two die. I often sit and ask myself, `Do vow of marriage affect offspring of it?' I ask it myself because my mother is silent over what obtains. And my father don't
teach in a School which answer difficult questions. Yes. I've to decide. The Vow affects them. If my mother and my father aren't blood relations because one of them isn't living, my brother and my
sister aren't too. A sign reports the new state of relationship. Fierce conflict. A brother and a sister fighting. And this, as often as one of them don't accept that end of Sex relations they're
is in place. I also remind myself of Children of Israel. They do set in battle array. One tribe against other. Yet, my father cleverly buries issue in his belief saying, `Our belief does undo a vow
of marriage'. Page 56.
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Until a day my mother abandons me in Nigeria and boards Plane to Hong Kong, I fail to ceware. My mother and I are one Person. I don't have to do a thing if it pleases only myself. As in a sole trip
I've to take to Ghana aboard Ghana Airways. During my 1995 Afribank PLC Annual Leave. My mother has to later avenge. Takes to what pleases just her. I vividly remember the day. She first of all
takes me to a Prayer ministry at Osina. There're Prayer thugs around. I've to note her threats to lock my two legs with fetters. At home. The day she's leaving. I do see her back me and depart. For
Medical treatment in Hong Kong. The home country of a World famous film Actor by name, Bruce Lee. Page 57.
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I'm inside my grave. I'm not sure I'll rise again. And be a man who is living. None of my five main sense organs is functioning. I'm cut off, Socially and physically, from World I use to be one of.
I'm dead on the basis of maltreatments of the living. I'm so, unable to be a pure Corpse. One great in the feeling of its Survivors. I'm in my grave Impure. A dead man the living aren't in danger
he'll contrarily achieve high Social Class they enjoy. Yet, an occurrence wakes me. Wakes me saying, `The living do still look down on you !' MY REPLY: `I Know. I don't have to help a People like
that overcome it. If they look down on me out of fear it's me who is living !' Page 58.
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Their fraud and burglary are dangers to beware of. So, for years (1986~2001) as Staff of I.B.W.A LTD, I'm unable to let Ledger balance of my Staff account be on the high side. I quickly withdraw
all to avoid one Thief and other. And also, Staff who indulge in using purity of heart to divert to their Pocket/Purse, the monthly Salary of a colleague. My Cash in hand is then, often large. If I
don't need house fittings, I must've to. So that there's outlet for excess Cash in hand. At home on weekends, my mother sits me down and sternly checks, `Give a thing to another only on the basis
of a Legal transaction !' She's aware I give Gift to a very beautiful girl I meet Instead of fall in love I cannot afford, with her. I do hear my retort, `How do I then express love !?' `You
mustn't express it until you're enjoying protection of a provision of law !' She advises. It's so, like a battle field for me. A girl is beautiful I mustn't believe with a Gift. Page 59.
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My mother isn't a wife in search of a person. An anonymous person she'll direct tips of her ten fingers at. When she's Practising a belief. This's because if a person is anonymous, it's with
respect to everybody in the setting they're members of General public. My mother knows it'll be silly of her if it isn't my father she's in search of. Her vow of Marriage and his do require it. A
wedding which make them Parents in a Positive, Comparative And Superlative Marital relationship. I know. She so, hasn't over there, either a Place or an Object which blunts sharp tip of any of her
fingers. Not even is there far off, a person she's embarassing with an outpour of Chants. I often sit her to it. To this faithfulness which is transparent. I'll later (1992) find it honest also.
Page 60.
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Who'll be my mother from 09:00 Am Feb 17, 1964 is pregnant. Tummy is visible. Romance from my father is yet, important. But, my prospective mother already lifts herself up in victory. A wife who
seeks excuse to keep husband at a Social distance, is pregnant. What is more than it to ask for? Within the same four walls of house, she deserts my prospective father. Minds herself. So that he'll
mind himself. Unfortunate for them, No one is around to explain to her. It's him; not, her who is `a Hen over an egg to nurture and hatch'. She's happy how a thief is. As she later narrates to me,
`I'm a victim of some implication. While pregnant, I don't get much to eat. I'm very hungry. Daily. Your father hasn't the money to rid me of the malnutrition setting in !' `Toward end of
Pregnancy. A few weeks before it's day to deliver !' She Continues. `I do quicky pack Dowry. Absconds to Port Harcourt. To my People who don't want a husband who romances. Even, during Pregnancy !'
Page 61.
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I remember boarding a taxi at Mile 2 Lagos. Someday in Jun 1999. It's again I've to go on an Enquiry trip to Ghana. The first having been on Fri Nov 17, 1995 aboard 10:15 Pm Ghana Airways Flight.
This time around, I'm on my 1999 Afribank PLC Annual Leave. A time to know if I'm indeed Mobile. An employee who change Workplace without incurring a bad luck. It'll be my fifth visit to the
English West African Country. I do recall. A brother is seeing me off. A disappointing feeling certainly rushes through as he observes me desert. For a time abroad. A dismay coming late. For I'm
mindsup to leave my Country, Nigeria for Ghana. Where I hope, there'll be an employment more exciting than the Fraud_prone bank work I'm coming away from. My mother isn't around to join him give to
me a farewell. My mother is fond of omitting to be present on almost all the occasions one of us Children is at a Junction over which road to follow and it leads us to a progress in life to write
to home about. Page 62.
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Until my wife is training my child who disobeys her in a University, I don't know it isn't clever for a child to obey mother. My wife don't get action on an errand she sends my child. Yet, she
pardons. And sponsors. I don't know of a reluctance from her. She simply has the child matriculate at her expense in 2013. `What must be wrong !?' Unlike my child, I obey my mother. Attends to all
which are errands. Bruises my knees over some. Bees bit their pins into my head in one incident. Twice weekly, I carry with fontanelle almost, bucketful of water from stream to home. If it's
farmwork, seeds and crops from farmlands far off. Yet, I haven't a matriculation number to show for these. Worst still. One day, I've to obey and follow my mother to a Native Doctor. She lets the
man disect palm of my left hand and remove my talent in disguise it's a fibre of palm he Cut out. A fibre she hides into a Termitehill at home according to the man's instruction. I obey. But, it
tells her I'm not a wise child. Page 63.
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My mother values dinner more than breakfast and lunch. It doesn't matter it'll be late, she never omits to prepare dinner. Super is to her, an activity to prefer instead of a prayer she'll say
before she'll close eyes and sleep. And which she'll base a dream on, while asleep. So that evil of an aspect doesn't befall her. I do note what it indeed means. On waking up at dawn, she remembers
not a word over a belief; but, the food without which she'll not be able to start to sleep. But, I Know. She's a bit, a pagan. For She's a native of a town practising Pagan beliefs until arrival of
the Roman Catholic Mission. And ridding of town of their affinity to N and M. The two alphabets they most adore. Yet, my mother is careful. We children have come. She'll so, not relent over
exemplarily showing it to us every night. It's a prayer she ought to end her day with. So it's it that makes her start to sleep. Page 64.
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The man must be an immigrant teacher from a neighbour country of Nigeria. Most probabily, from Ghana. In 1966, at a compound belonging to a forefather by name, Ukeh are we all, Pupils in a Nursery
setting. Lesson is in Maths. Topic is `Addition operations under Hundred, tens and unit'. I vividly recall. The man stands over there, in shirt tuck into trouser, Teaches and explains. It's a full
Class of about 35 Pupils. It isn't easy for me to be sure I understand him. But, I observe him teach the Skill. Soon, it's end of lesson. For us to work and submit answers to a Classwork. Result of
my answers to the four questions turn out to be 0%. I remember taking note of the Pupils who leave their scripts to look into my own. Now, certain I'm not one of those who are exceptionally gifted,
do they laugh and return to their seats. Page 65.
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In a similar setting a Government has a ghost worker as an employee do I have. A worker supposes to be a person. Not, either a body, a spirit or a ghost. A worker is so, an employee because in
person and name is s/he present. But, a ghost worker isn't an employee. Any employee s/he is. It occurs by fraud of a labourer who is an employee. And in name only. A ghost worker isn't then,
productive. This's though s/he/it may be matter. Has weight and occupies space. I remember my name and then myself who answer it. Let me refer to myself as an employer to food I eat. And my name,
as a ghost worker I contend with. My name and myself are present in all of an attendance register and a payroll. One day, my mother is on hand to listen to me argue. She comes on and asks me a
question over why I get hungry. Indeed, too often. `Your name lives to eat, exactly if you yourself eats to live !?' Page 66.
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It surprises me. Ibo people has a language and dialects of it they speak. I use to be a pupil, a student and an undergraduate. Yet, at none of stages is there an account for me revealing the first
humans to be Ibo people. My parents mind only to make ends meet. Are busy buying, producing and selling either farm produce or teaching services. Whereas they ought to first of all recognize that
they aren't the first to speak the Ibo language they're speaking. I don't so, know the first humans to settle in Ibo land. And how it's true they're intelligent enough to form a language and its
dialects. The omission hurt the Ibo people. My father don't know that some of these first settlers are still around. Are all over town as men and women and very attentive. To know if my parents
train us with their history and culture. I'll discover it only later. None of parents do. My mother has us know that if she gets ill, she heals it. And my father lets us know he produces big yam
tubers. Page 67.
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Ceaselessly, deaths and funeral ceremonies fill moment in a land. Natives who attend burials are soon to contend with a scenario. While attending a burial, news of another to attend, filters in.
Death rate is frequent. Five of six living persons die every week. The list include blood relations as it does otherwise. One day, it ticks my fancy to guess and ask my mother to confirm to me if
any one of these is a cause of these deaths. 1. Pray and it preserves who is praying by helping an overly ill blood relation die. 2. If you now live in Lagos. And ceases to go to Auckland you use
to live in and see again this lookalike of a woman you're her neighbour in Lagos, the lookalike in Auckland quickly dies. 3. If a people recognize a person, s/he lives. A person they don't so
recognize dies. In 1960 until Jan 14, 1966, death rate is low in the land. Over farming chores to escape from. And western education, has natives of the land to migrate. From rural to the urban.
Page 68.
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On a hand of a contest is one over whose beauty I do trust. May and Rose are two equally beautiful women. Love is a background in May's beauty. Rosary is a background in Rose's beauty. On a TV
screen, beauty of Rose challanges May's. I admire both. But, I'm unable to order it. Danger is set up. An angel sets to damn either May or Rose; never both. From what I get, Rose makes the case
saying, `May's is beauty of a devil'; where hers is `beauty of a christian'. On other hand, are Senami's beauty and handsome of a Newscaster who is a manifestation of Christ. Senami is 100%
beautiful. Handsome that Christ's manif is challanges it. Death is a background in the handsome of Christ's. Sex is a background in the beautiful Senami is. As I study the looks on an AIT screen,
it occurs to me. Christ's manifestation is asking me to hurry and choose either hers or his; but, never both. For an angel sets to damn the contestant who loses. Page 69.
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I remember a day. My mother is home from an open market. The ingredients she'll use and cook are in place. But, she complains of fatigue. It emanates from a long walk she has to do; to market and
back. I haven't my book on hand. So, she begs me to start cooking. She promises she's available for questions. A few minutes after adding all of ingredients for the soup, her voice rings out
through window of her room saying, `Make certain of it. Avoid excess of Salt. Yet, if deficit, do recall. I don't use to like adding salt while I'm eating !' It's true. I recall. An ancestor woman
turns to a pillar of salt over her back to sender. But then, as my mother sets to relax in bed, I let out a question. For it appears it's rarely she let me help her cook. ME: `Has adding salt in
excess a thing to do with the penalty where a wife is a pillar of salt ! MY MOTHER: `No. Yet, an ingredient like salt may be a source of a mistake in cooking. It's our culture. It lets bread, fish
and salt be ingredients !' Page 70.
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In an exchange of a packet of coasters for a packet of crackers, ten naira helps B to collect a packet of coasters from C and give a packet of crackers to D. It's now 1991, many years after 1982
that I've a grade 2 in GCE OL Economics. Yet, I do fail to understand this relationship of an end (a packet of coasters from C to B) to a scarce means (an amount of money from B to C) and to an
alternative use of ten naira (the ten naira from C to D; and a packet of crackers from D to C). But, I must've to. It's a requirement for an admission to a University degree course in Economics.
The same 1982 until 1991 does my shortcoming give to my mother a cause for concern. She'll engage in one and other trade to see if I understand a thing. Honestly, I don't. One day, I do calm her
saying, `cheating prevail at every stage of this transaction I illustrate with !' My mother agrees. But, she has so, to be a teacher. Ever after 1992. She wants to know if there's where she cheats
another in a transaction. Page 71.
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My organ of sight comprise of two eyes. Yet. I don't see by binocular vision, like my mother do. No. I see by monocular vision. I see either a person, a place or an oblect with the light s/he/it
reflects to my eyes. But then, work of my right eye isn't to see simultaneously, who/what my left eye fixes up. As happens under a binocular vision. No. It's work is instead, to filter off a light
and a source I'm not familiar with. It's quite like I've funnel ears. My half_closed right ear filters sound coming in through either it or my wide open left ear. I recall explaining this to my
mother saying, `It's only a few of many words you tell me I do hear !'. Page 72.
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I live in a social environment. Its name is happiness. A happiness conducive for a man if he likes to live as a member of this group. I also live in a physical environment. Its name is Coke. A
mineral coke conducive for a man if he likes to live as an individual who drinks Coke. On the hand of a happiness group, each one of us lets happy he is add to those of others toward happiness to
share before we retire to home. On the hand of an individual who likes to drink Coke mineral, I save money I get toward buying the drink. My mother wants me to be important in only one of these two
environments. At home from each of group meetings, she listens to my account. But, as it isn't happy I'm which preside is as quitely she swallows hard. In a meeting, I'm happy. And contributes it.
But, election does set. At none am I member whose happy he is does win topmost votes. I let my mother observe me go individual and important over Coke. This's then if I'm not important unless I'm
leader of the happiness group. Page 73.
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If I make a stress call to my wife, I want her to know the call is from me to her more than to know my message. for instance, `someone is trying to assault me sexually'. If it's instead, a distress
call, I want her to know my message, `someone is trying to assault me sexually' more than to know that the call is from me to her. I make a distress call irrespective of myself. This's if anyone
else is fit to make it. In either my name or otherwise. And also, if message still has to do with me. One day, I do discover my wife. She hides her low intelligence from me. She rarely studies hard
at marital home so as to achieve an IQ higher than the 50% her 1992 Teacher grade 2 result show to me she has. In 2021, I live in Lagos city. And she lives 100km away in Isiekenesi city. I call her
by phone and she makes response lively only if phone I call with, is a new one. She tells correctly my call which is with a new phone. She'll not respond knowing it's either a stress or a distress
call. Page 74.
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I make a point. It's from occupying a space. I make it. I recall. Each one of candidate neighbours throw glances at me from their respective points. But, I'm unable to say if any of those points is
untrue. I know that, for instance, Miss Edith on a space is a point. And Miss Scholastica on a space is a point. Yet, it may short to be. This's if they feel neither a negative nor a positive
emotion. It's 2009 NTI/NCE final examination in Integrated science. And there's this point I make. A prevaling rate of movement of air vouchsafe it and give to me, a comfort to feel. And in the
order I weigh on seat I occupy. My point has also, a relief about it. It keeps occurring. And seem to say, `You'll not resit this paper !' True, I'm not to resit it. My result does meet
expectation. A grade to write to home about. A lecturer isn't going to relent until three of us in the Dept of ITS are all making points. At end, she has us go home from campus as holder of our
respective points. Page 75.
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I observe it with dismay. It isn't because it disturbs me. No. None of parties in a conversation targets to upset me. But then, I see the need to grieve against an idle conversation. A phenomenon.
It's today, culture in Nigeria. And there isn't a provision of law which is against it. A party `M' to a conversation isn't wont to ask other party `N' to provide a proof if `N' mentions that `N'
is a University graduate in Chemistry. It's why every two see conversation as an activity they can afford. Along path I feel dismay do I, one day, ask a girlfriend to tell me the course she has a
degree in. GIRLFRIEND: `English !' she utters, with elation. The communication, `English' is all she means to mention. I don't have to ask for details because it isn't a norm. Worst still, if
setting isn't an interview. Yet, I do hurt for details. In 1976 until 1981, I'm in College. But, it's likely. Instead of learn skill to solve a problem a subject is about, we learn skill to defend
ourselves with its name only. Page 76.
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A question is good it it's on either an elem school subject, a secondary school subject, a higher school/GCE AL subject, an undergraduate course or a postgraduate course. On the contrary, a
question isn't good if it's on either a social or a physical environment. Generally writing, a question from a source is good if it's for a learner to answer. A question from a source is bad if
it's for an employee to answer. Note well: A teacher is an employee. One day in marital home (May 2000), I'm hungry. My gemini wife isn't home from school where she's a teacher. I've to be outdoor
in search of a restaurant. I do find one and has my fill of a lunch meal. At home later, she comes over. And asks me, `What food is that !?' ME: `Is your husband one of pupils you teach and ask
questions. If I tell you which food it is, I'll send you back to your father !' She backs out. I hear her whisper saying, `I'll get the information. It isn't night time yet. Is it !?' ME: `Ok. It's
beans and plantain !' Page 77.
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In our nuclear family home. Ever before there's anything certificate to collect from a school over a mental age test, a point exists. A point about my mother (a shape) and an outdoor of her womb (a
space) she's occupying. Another point exists yet. A point about me (a shape) and an indoor of her womb (a space) I'm occupying. The two points are to exist for a nine months ending at 09:00am on
Mon Feb 17, 1964. Six years after this my birth, I'm set to enrol and be an elementary one pupil of an elementary school in town. My first day in school, the headmaster of school calls me into his
office and asks, `where is your mothercare leaving certificate !?' ME: `My mother neither teaches me nor has she a record of it if at all she teaches me while I'm in her womb. In the absence of a
teaching, a learning and an examination, am I suppose to have a certificate from her to show to you !?' HM: `What you rather say is that the distance between the two points her and you make isn't a
line !' Page 78.
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I recall. In the year 1970 that I'll start my elementary school studies, the Nigeria civil war in place (1966 until Jul 1970) is yet to end. We've so, to gather at various family compounds under a
teacher and learn talent which has to do with a pre_elementary school subject. Each one of teachers helps us be aware of programmes and activities of government of country. As events unfold, there
isn't a certain government. Hence then, each one of teachers trains and has us be aware of programmes and activities on each of pages of a school textbook. As late as then, none of state Ministry
of education in country conducts a common entrance examination for admission into primary schools. Parents simply go to a school they like and enrol their child for a six_year primary school
socialization. Luckily for me, my father is one of teachers in all of schools I'm a pupil (1971 until 1976). Page 79.
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I refer to the group of people who constitute government of Nigeria as natives of Nigeria until a day. The day they do remove from practice, an order to follow in the work of governing country and
citizens. An order which make citizens see their government as a good group of people. And that means the source of Nigerian law is Nigeria; not, UK. In British law, it's Parliament; not, 10
Downing street which is source of law. In context as beginners in the work of governance, law must needs be originating from policies of the executive arm. Not, from bills of the legislative arm.
The executive arm make a policy (ex; we love women who are fat more than we do the otherwise) and forward to the legislative arm. The legislative arm make it a law (ex; we love women who are fat
more than we do the otherwise) and forward to the judiciary arm. The judiciary arm interpret it and forward decision (ex; transport service for fat women is free) to the executive arm for approval
and assent. Page 80.
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I'm not who I'm. Instead, I'm what who I'm is inside it. Succinctly put, I'm a non_living thing. But, a living thing is inside me. I'm so, analogous to a package of a piece of biscuit. That is to
say, I'm not my life; but, a package of it. You can imagine the feeling of a consumer. It's to buy a piece of biscuit s/he's at a shop. A biscuit s/he'll eat in order to quench a hunger for an
in_between meal. Yet, s/he ends up buying package of the biscuit. I contend with friends who hurt me because I'm to them, a piece of biscuit. Whereas I'm not. I've an acquaintance girl who turns
out to be a victim of this misconception. She fails to be friends with the man I'm his package while trying to exclude my interest in her. One day, my mother is on hand. I let her explain my
friends well to me. MY MOTHER: `Your friends are about a phrase, `I'm who I'm' Do help them complete it, `I'm who I'm, if I'm not who I'm !' Page 81.
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Perhaps, it's why. My mother has to go on, conceive and give birth to as many of us as ten children. If not on account of death of the tenth, she sets to be a mother of up to twelve children. So
that she'll be able to take her eyes off child of other parents. She bewares of covetiousness. Especially, as it relates to standard of social distance which fits to be in place between parents and
a child of other parents. As a virgin girl, my mother rejects angels. She'll not let one fall in love, either for her or on behalf of a master. Now my mother, she reminds me. `An angel, guardian of
a child, covets another child who other angel is its guardian'. One day, my mother do call me. She's searching through a book on Nigerian law of tort. She wants to see if `you oughtn't covet
neighbour's child' is one of its first ten commands. I'm on hand to answer. ME: `No. This's although the ten include `you oughtn't covet neighbour's wife' and `you oughtn't covet neighbour's
husband' !' Page 82.
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By 1965. In our nuclear family. A policy is in place regarding attitude of us to basic needs. It states saying, `We're humble'. By 1982, the policy isn't yet a law. Not until 1984 have we to
assemble and debate on it. Thereafter, we do make it a law. The law states saying, `we're humble members of the nuclear family of Maths, Ver and Children'. As to an interpretation, we've to wait
until 2014. The year there's this conflict between my father, Maths and my mother, Ver. We're unable to prevent the death of Maths because an interpretation (he isn't humble if he's hungry) we
agree with means he's the one who if he dies do attract less sympathizers than if it's Ver who dies. A day after his death, we're together under a hut to calm our nerves. One of us confirms saying,
if it's Ver who is dead, the people will certainly have to appease her corpse with death of one of us !' For approval of the law and assent, we've to wait and be sure of who of us children is the
most successful in life. Page 83.
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It does appeal. A song. Its theme. And content. The man makes it; with a guitar and a talent. He sings the song aloud. And into great ears of a Rafiapalm wine tapper. In song, he cautions him,
`You're aware of it. That, you're a great man. You know you'll die. But, you'll not like to know why, when and where. I'm here to let it be over my music you'll be dead. Does it matter? Over the
same, am I going to die. Yet, before ever you'll die !' In process, this guitarist speaks. Even, he writes. But then, I'm on hand. An anonymous audience; to yet, a conflict. It lingers between
Guitarist, his song and the great Rafiapalm wine tapper over there. Together, they has me know a thing. In terms of a woodpecker then, I'm present. Pecks lips of one person the three of us are.
About just this musician, I peck. `Either sing or speak; but, it kills you. Moreso, this audience. If he listens to you. Has a good he makes of your music !' At home, I do tell my mother. A
Guitarist seeks vengeance. Page 84.
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I know a hard thing. How old I'm, In chronological terms. I bother. I'll be today old only tomorrow. But, I don't know if a day has an end. And if there's ever a day which is previous. Besides,
I've a need. A need to have a firm grasp of my age. Hence, I've yet, a cause. The cause to represent my age with a number. The number is either one, two or three digit depending on how old I'm.
But, it does give; yet, just a true and fair view of my age. I know. A number fails to accurately represent my age. This's considering an attitude. My mother I get to know the day which is my
birthday, neither reminds nor happy birthdays me if it's an anniversary of my date of birth. Page 85.
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As day after day breaks in, late 1982, it dawns on me. My parents are giving up. They'll sponsor me to University. But, not now I don't have a result which commits them. My 1982 GCE OL result
doesn't satisfy. From a brochure, I note it. I'm not forthcoming. I do short to satisfy general entry requirements for admission into a University in Nigeria. My mental age must needs meet standard
for a Nigerian. It meets if I've a credit grade in each of three compulsory subjects; namely, the English language, Mathematics and a Science subject. And also, in two elective subjects. I'm hurt.
I've a credit grade in three elective GCE OL subjects. But, fails to have it in any of compulsory GCE OL subjects. I'm hurt. Moreso, if my mother is unsympathetic. In 1992, she's a student of a
College of education. Yet, instead of go for a hard course like Physics, she chooses Social studies. A course. But, it satires me over my poor performance in GCE OL. And tells the world it's me who
has that poor result. Page 86.
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Early in life, my mother cautions me saying, `Beware of the suggestions of a word !' As a teenager and an adolescent, I often go in search of why she wants me to beware of suggestions of a word.
One day, a friend offers to explain it to me. FRIEND: `Your school has you know we use a word to describe either of three exact phenomena. A person, a place or an object. But, society tell you a
contrary saying, `Teachings of your school on word and meaning are impractical'. To your school, the aim of a word you act/speak/write is to represent either a person, a place or an object. To
society, a word fails to represent either a person, a place or an object. But then, in that a word is already either in act, in speech or in writing; but, fails to describe either of these, it
doesn't also, fail to suggest either. A person, a place or an object !' ME: `I oughtn't tolerate a word if its suggestion lets me be aware of either of these; a person, a place or an object
who/which is evil !' Page 87.
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My people agree that I know. But, over if it's everything, their answer is a loud no. A day in Nov 2010, our community has a world bank to develop soil with. And who's to do what is issue. I
recall. Knowing that I use to work in a bank, a member of community quickly comments about me saying, `his knowledge of us is below an average we'll be safe as a community'. My father is bald at an
area around fontanelle. And I'm aware it means he suffers from an incomplete dominance. As to what matter it's in, I don't know. I remember all the gathering he attends. In none is he ever, the
head of meeting. At home, my mother completes the bashing. Nags him often; to his face. A nagging of who don't know all. And until it's Jan 2014. The month and year he submits to death; on a
sunday. The day he uses to hope on. For he wishes he'll be the leader of his community. A day all those who make incomplete dominance mean a thing do use to confess to god they're christians. Page
88.
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Beginning from 1964 until 2014, my father helps me know that life is measureable. According to one of his calculations, life is a clock with three unequal arms. If you set life, its longest arm
gives to you, one second of life. Its medium arm gives to you, one minute of life. And its shortest arm gives to you, one hour (one degree) of life. In practice, there're people who don't set life.
And so, hasn't an interval of life to live. It isn't by mistake they omit to set life. No. It has to do with complacency. An act of knowing the wrong thing. Life travels through a medium. The
person who is to live it. I know of some of my acquaintances, friends and blood relations. They seek to live life without setting it. In some cases, it's to them possible that if B sets life, D can
live it. No. None lives life which another has set. What then is a government of country up to? To answer, my mother trains, teaches and earns income. A government can set life for a citizen if
they do employ and reward him/her. Page 89.
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A mass service I enjoy participation in. Yet, it does turn into one I'm at home to think again about. As I listen, I hear as the Priest lists names of more than twenty saints. He hasn't need to
mention all the saints. Yet, I'm certain. He's excluding saint Alexis. During a mass I'm present. And as an angel who is to carry Priest's (mass) service to where his master actually is. A saint I
take my baptismal name from, deserves to be one a Priest mentions his name if I'm present. Instead of do, if it's time to pray the saints, a Priest has me know a Cecilia is a better saint than
Alexis. I don't know if my saint has an issue over inclusion in a roman calenar. Howbeit, I know. The Roman catholic church do remove a saint if years afterall, the saint shorts to be generally
acceptable as a saint. At home, I'm set to discuss the matter with my mother. But, she grieves over a neglect of either saint veronica her name is about or herself proper. Page 90.
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One day. In a year preceding a national election in Nigeria, I do bend over the textbook, Business administration by Robert Appleby. It's to read up Maslow's theory of hierarchy of needs. I want to
know which of either basic or physiological needs reminds me I've the need to register and vote for a group of people. As I finish review and lifts my head, I find myself welcome the need to
exercise my right to vote and be vote for. Yet, I don't tolerate the need to register. I don't have either a data or an information to register with. I've so, to approach my mother asking for an
advice. ME: `Mom, I'm not an employee of the government already in office. And suppose another employer is good, I'm not a university graduate. I don't have what to fill registration form with !'
MY MOTHER: `Yes. But, it's your own fault. Go on and submit your time and date of birth to them. Afterall, it's it that count !' Page 91.
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Interest and profit are rewards. For years, I observe as founder of a small_scale enterprise don't know difference between his role and that of the capital he set up his enterprise with. In my
position as his accountant, I let him get what obtains. But then, I look closely at what he understands. He's unable to separate role of capital from his role as entrepreneur. To him, interest and
profit are for entrepreneur to earn. One day, I let him know he has need to add new capital to the initial, if he likes his enterprise. A week hence, we're together at his bank. For a loan of N27m,
bank is to charge 16% per ann as interest. He turns to me asking, `Has my enterprise an interest it pays me. Its Initial capital is from my pocket. Don't you know !?' ME: `Yes. But, it's because
you keep it a secret !' At home one weekend, my mother sees me bring home four crates of egg from the man's new poultry farm. She calls out, `Oh return all ! If there's what you know he's yet to
know !' Page 92.
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I'll be home from school (1970 until end of primary school in 1976). And proudly, I do account to my mother, lessons I learn. By Jun 1975, mock exam is over. My position in class is 5th. And by Jul
1976, result of Jun 1976 first school leaving certificate exam has come. My grade is neither distinction nor credit; but, pass level. I'm not happy. And she isn't. But, I remember the day. I'm in
exam hall over atleast one Maths question I don't know talent (how) to solve it. A shortcoming which lingers into Jun 1981 I'm taking College leaving certificate exam. Perhaps, 1976, the year I'm
12, isn't the year I've mental age which understand basic operations of Arithmetic. A day in Aug 1976, result of common entrance exam into colleges arrives. My aggregate is 25. But, it's the
cut_off mark for 1976 diet. I've so, to attend a community; not, a government secondary school. In 1989, my mother has to be a trainee teacher and later (1992~2013), a teacher. All, on the basis of
my shortcomings as a learner. Page 93.
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All I get now is my penis. Yet, I don't get rest over having it. For a god is in ambush day and night; to help me lift and drop it if it's my time to urinate. Eventually, I do ask the god, `So,
this's what you mean? You're god in that my penis is here with me. And not with anyone else. You disguise as me in your bid to touch and feel my penis. To be what god you're means. In circumstance
my wife I impregnate with this penis don't yet give to me the child resulting. Even, a prostitute I patronize with the penis, never reciprocates my visit !' I've so, to turn and utter into the dark
where god occurs to me, `Woe !' Knowing that he isn't going to stop minding me, I utter again, `Woe ! God in vain !' I quickly recall. In 1970 until 1976, My father takes me with him when going to
school as a teacher. He never lets me attend a school where he isn't one of teaching staff. He and god has bad luck. My mother shorts to give me to either him or god to own. Page 94.
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I'll have to go outdoor and buy a need. But, meanwhile, I stay indoor. And lets a need I've been able to satisfy from a previous outdoor trip work for me. One day, my mother chats me up. For the
year is 1982. I'm a secondary school leaver. She has plans to sponsor me if course I've in mind borders on human behaviour. I've so, to spare a moment. I let her engage me in the chat. Its theme is
`Need'. MOTHER: `What may be the difference between `I want pepper' and `I need pepper' !?' ME: `Suppose that you're set to cook a soup. You want pepper if it's an ingredient for making soup. But
then, you need the pepper only if none of those who either produce or sell it isn't pepper !' MOTHER: `My need is so, a thing who produces it, isn't !?' ME: `Yes. Moreso, a thing who sells it isn't
!' Page 95.
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I'm not the one who can say if I've a great mother. A man has a great mother if an account says so. I get to know it from some biographies. Especially, those of post_1776 Americans. A man is great
mainly if he has a great mother. The account says little of a great father. My study of life history (1947 until 2019) of my mother doesn't reveal she's a mother who belongs to highest social
class. No. Instead, she belongs to social class of housewives, mothers of ten children and elementary school headteachers. Yet, perhaps due to my habit of reading widely, I seem to ascribe to her,
status of a great mother. Somehow, it sticks. Moreso, with what I now know. That, my mother whose date of birth is Wed Dec 31, 1947 and date of death, Fri Aug 17, 2012 is living, well into 2022.
Page 96.
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Judging by my mother's name, Veronica; instead of, on the basis of fact she's a woman, she's as old as the earth itself. 1947:2022 people who see her do always believe she deserves every respect
she earns. And she helps them by showing presence at all occasions where the people live up to a custom of the land. And to corroborate this account of her is a woman by name, Deborah. I imagine.
My mother is one of the women of jerusalem of two thousand years ago. The convict conveying the cross they'll kill him with has an issue over who my mother indeed is. To him, all the other women,
except her, are easy to place. In his unfamiliarity with her, he fails to beware that the handkerchief she rubs at his face to remove sweat does instantly rob him of his labour and the reward he'll
get for his dieing for the world. Page 97.
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Hardly. But, I'm able to benefit from a sense, an intelligence and a belief. A sense which is a chronological age. And moreso, an intelligence which is a mental age. This's though my trunk isn't
transparent. It's a body opaque to light it receives from a source. I've to let my mother review a discovery in 1995. She shorts to delay in forthcoming with a chat. We do sit over which of body,
spirit and ghost of me is opaque to light it gets from Sun. MY MOTHER: `First of all, beware of people who say to you that they'll not give to you access to a benefit !' ME: `I already beware of an
illiterate. But, please let me know. Is a human really opaque to light from a source !?' MY MOTHER: `Not quite. Yet, an intelligence of a human. An intelligence of a person is opaque to its
equivalent !' Page 98.
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I beware of a person who tells people I'm not somebody whenever s/he's telling them s/he's somebody. Moreso, a person who lets my heart learn of his/her maltreatment of me. I recall a day in feb
1982. My mother is home from maternity without my father's tenth child that the nurses, a week ago, do deliver her of. In tears, she holds my hands and cautions saying, `Speak your words to people
only because they speak their own to you. Let it not be a one way communication affair !' ME: `Yes mom. I obey commands of my boyfriend; whereas, he never obeys my own commands !' Page 99.
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My love for her is like one of a chick of hen out of it's egg case. Uncertainly do I tell my mother, `I love you'. But, she reacts to it. Nods in response. Yet, it's often, not clear to me. The
basis of this emotion I've to express. But then, it obtains. Sometimes, I get a feeling. A Light I use to see her and know she's admirable, does account. A self_luminous light and an object
reflecting it must be culpritly up to a setting. Has me admire myself from admiring my mother. Me, the young of the two of us and the one innocent. My mother lets me love her despite that we
contend with individual differences in fact (blood), mirage (fingerprint) and mystery (life history). Page 100.
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