Why don't you take your time and teach him? Stop hitting him. I haven't touched him. Witch!
She ended the call after that. I was so pumped up for the drama and I thought we'd laugh about it later. I thought of how her lips would turn down, how she'd wonder how she got where she was to be called a witch by her own fucking father!!! And I got mad! I called her back so many times, she wasn't picking up. My worry increased. Was she safe there? Was she alright? Maybe she was crying? I decided to let the atmosphere there cool a bit. I still can't say where for fear of giving up too much. I called my half brothers then, who i didn't even want to ha e any contact with- we'll get to that later. He aslo didn't pick up. I hated him, my father. To call your own daughter a witch???? That was not okay. That was horrible. I'm sure he's drunk, not surprising. There is in fact nothing new under the sun. I was looking for a way not to blame my stupid little brother took. He just had to always play around and be dum!!!!!!! What the hell. If he was serious with his books none of this would've happened. And I don't even know how bad it is or was or is becoming because she ended the fucking call!!!!! Okay, calm down calm down. He's not dum, that's too harsh, he just doesn't learn. It's not his fault. All this I'm telling myself and for what? It's not calming me down. It is in fact his fault isn't it. He's a fool a big one. That fucker. Always playing around. Ughhhhhhh!!!!!
A few days before that i was helping him with his homework and my dad came and asked whether he could do it. I said yes asked .well why, why then was I holding the protractor he was using to draw the circles. I just stared at him and thought in my head, well I'm just measuring something to make sure his work is neat. But of course I didn't say that. I just stared at him and watched him walk away. What changed today? Why was he, is he against my sister. What the actual fuck. The tone he said it with, witch. It kept replaying in my head. He said it in twi, I've told you, I'm Ghanaian. )bayifo). I kept replaying it over and over in my head. Looking for signs of aggression in his tone, looking for anything to make me angrier, make me hate him more. It just sounded lazy to me, like a drunk talking, there was no real weight to it. He just said it. Like how you'd respond to a how are you? I'm fine. Lazy, automatic. JUST. LIKE. THAT.Ughhhh!!! I feel them on my face, the tears. I didn't even feel them coming. I'm so mad right now. So very angry.
I sent her a text, asking what's happening.
My phone is broken. How? I text back.
He threw it. Daddy? I ask. But I already know the answer. Yes, she texts back. Did he hit you? I ask. No, she replies. I let go of the breath I didn't even realise I was holding.
No one understands me. Everyday, everything I do, there's a problem.
Don't worry I'll be back soon. I text back.
It's not going to make a difference, ahe replies.
Oh, how i wanted to pat her back and tell her that it would. How I wanted to take away all her problems,her pain, sadness, all of it away, far away from her, where they could not hurt her any longer. But that was not my job. I was after a younger than her, a child. This wasn't a child's duty. Not at all. I hated that she had to feel that way. No one deserves to feel like that about themselves. No one. Especially not because of their own family. It's just not right. Not right at all.
This was not okay. I had not even told my mother yet because she had a problem with my sister earlier today. But it's love is it not? It's the fear of watching your child go astray that causes you to be overprotective of your child. It's love that causes you to scold your child to the extreme when he or she does something wrong in your eyes. It is love that makes you hit your child as a form of correction. To the point of tears. It is love is it not? That's what we've made ourselves believe. That's what everyone says when we, children complain. You'll not understand it now because you're a child. Your parents do it out of their love for you. Love, love, love, fucking love!!!!!!!!
As if love justifies everything. It doesn't. It never has and it never will. People have to stop using that excuse. It's worn out, outdated.
I feel better now, and as usual, my head aches, so much. I feel sleepy, tired, drained. Anger isn't good for my health. I don't think it's good for anyone's health really. It's just so poisonous, wanting to kill you from the inside without even trying. Sometimes, I wish I were confident enough. Bold to let my thoughts out. But i was the quiet child, the one who didn't question, the one who was always satisfied. The one who didn't talk back. I couldn't come out now. I was trapped, I had to live this out until I was out of here. Away from all this. Away, gone to a place in could finally breathe. A place where i could talk freely without being scared, shy. I'm just so tired of it all.
I think about making my own money, freeing my sisters, brother and mother from him. That's all I think about these days. I want us to be free. But do we really need freedom? I mean, she did marry him. But she wouldn't have known would she? No one ever does.
Freedom. That's what I want for us now.
And now look at the shithole we're all in. We'll discuss this later, next chapter maybe?.